Snowbirding 2019: In Mesa and Gilbert

I take a break from camping and spend some time selling rocks and visiting friends.

Posts in this series:
The Long Drive
At the Backwaters Campsite
In Mesa and Gilbert
A Quick Stop in Wickenburg and Forepaugh
Off Plomosa Road
• Camping at the Big RV Show
• A Trip to Organ Pipe with the WINs
The Tucson Gem & Mineral Shows
Wickenburg Gold Rush Days
• Constellation Park Interlude
• White Tank Mountain Park
Bumming It in Phoenix and Apache Junction
A Dose of Civilization
Return to the Backwaters

With my Colorado River Backwater vacation over, it was time to get back to work. I was scheduled to participate as a vendor in the annual Flagg Gem and Mineral Show in Mesa, AZ from January 4 through 6, so that was my next stop.

Setting Up My Booth

I headed east on I-10, letting Google Maps direct me to the Mesa Community College campus where the event would be held. At about 3:45 PM, I was following a young guy on foot to the space in the covered parking area to where my booth would be.

There was not much I could set up. After all, I’d chosen space under the covered parking area so I wouldn’t have to set up my tent shelter. But although that saved me some work, it also made some extra work for me. Without the tent and its sides, I couldn’t just leave my merchandise out overnight. There was no point in setting up more than just the tables to mark my space. So that’s what I did: I pulled the three folding tables out of my truck’s back seat area and set them up in a row along the outside edge of my booth space.

I should mention here that my booth space was huge: 14 x 28, I think. I didn’t need that much space, but it was the smallest space they offered. This was a big contrast to the 5 x 8 space I’m allowed at Pybus Public Market in Wenatchee where I do most of my selling. Rather than the usual challenge of cramming my wares into a tiny space, I had the unusual challenge of spreading everything out so it looked as if it filled the space.

The “Rough” Cargo Trailer

Meanwhile, I’d been texting back and forth with the owner of a cargo trailer listed on Craig’s List in Chandler. I was pleasantly surprised to learn that he was only 4 miles away from the show. I headed over to see the trailer.

The owner, Dan, lived in a kind of cool neighborhood in Chandler. From the street, it looked like any other subdivision, but each home had a very deep back yard — so big, in fact, that I suspect many of his neighbors had horses. Dan had a goat — the biggest goat I’d ever seen. It was very friendly and kept coming up to us to be petted. He also had a pit bull mix dog who was equally friendly but not quite as annoying about it. And he had a big garage in the back yard (although not as big as mine; as if anyone’s is).

He’d bought the trailer three years ago from someone else on Craig’s List to use as a storage shed for his tools until his garage was finished. Now that his garage was done, he didn’t need it anymore and wanted to sell it.

The trailer was in reasonable condition. Sure, it had some dents — thus his description of it being “rough” — but it was solid. It was outfitted the way I wanted: side door, back barn doors (vs a ramp), and two axles. It even had a screen vent and lighting (which needed some work). I could stand up straight in it. The price was good, but I’ve learned never to offer the listed price for anything on Craig’s List. (Frankly, you’re an idiot if you ask your best price since everyone wants a deal.) I offered him 10% less and he took it. He agreed to hold onto it until I was ready to come get it. I told him that might be Monday and he was okay with that. I also took a close look at the plug for the connection to my truck since it seemed that it might not be long enough to reach the truck with the hitch extension I needed to use with the camper on top. I went back to the camper, raided my mobile bank, and paid him. He gave me the title.

I do admit I had buyer’s remorse several times until I picked it up. What if it was too big? Had I paid too much? Did I really want to tow a trailer for the rest of this trip? Did I really need a trailer? The usual. All that cleared up a few days later when I put it to use.

Friends in Gilbert

From there, I went to Gilbert, where I’d be staying with friends. Tiffani and Jan have a house in a subdivision there with a guest room that’s always available for me and Penny. They’re great people and lots of fun and I know they think I don’t drink enough and go to bed too early. (I’m just not a party animal.)

I backed into their driveway, in front of the door to the extra garage they didn’t use, not sure whether overnight street parking was allowed there. (It was, fortunately.) Then I went inside where I was greeted by Jan. Tiffani came a short while later with a pizza to put in the oven. A while later we were eating pizza and drinking wine and watching something on television with the volume turned way up.

I did my laundry in their enormous washer and dryer. I was wearing my last clean pair of underwear and only had one pair of socks left. My jeans were so dirty I think I could have grown potatoes in them. The washer was so big, I only needed to do two loads, although I suspect that if I didn’t care about whites vs. darks I could have gotten it all — including my camper’s sheets — into one load. When the first load was dry and I had clean clothes to put on, I took a long, hot shower. It wasn’t until then that I felt as if I was done camping for a while.

At the Flagg Gem and Mineral Show

Slabs for Sale
I put out two boxes of rock from a Washington friend to sell. A slab of obsidian was the first thing I sold, but it was also the only slab I sold all weekend. Go figure.

The next day, I was out by 7 AM and on my way to the gem show. The show opened at 9 AM and I had until then to set up. After offloading most of my stuff, I backed the truck and camper into a spot against the fence. Then I went about putting the table cloths on the tables and setting up my easels for pendants and earrings, my display pieces for rings and bracelets, and the display boxes for cabochons. I also put out boxes of petrified wood and obsidian slabs I’d brought from Washington; if there was any place I could sell them, this would be it. Of course, I never took a picture of my booth.

The show was pretty big and well managed — which makes sense considering it’s been an annual event for more than 50 years. Lots of vendors selling everything: rough stone, slabs, cabs, specimens, display pieces, beads, and, of course, jewelry. The organizers of the event required every booth to have at least 75% of its merchandise related to stone or jewelry so there weren’t the usual vendors selling salsa or microfiber cloths or blenders that you see at so many shows these days.

The other vendors were very friendly. The couple behind me, who were from Idaho, sold mostly Asian-made stone items such as bowls and statues and display pieces. The wife was completely entranced with Penny, who I had tied up in my booth for much of the first day. The guy west of me owned a local prospecting shop and was promoting his business, as well as selling metal detectors, books, and all kinds of prospecting equipment. The woman east of me was Native American, selling mostly beaded jewelry. Across from me were some guys who owned a nearby coffee shop that featured jewelry and items from local artists; they were selling mostly turquoise cabochons at prices a bit beyond what I like to spend.

I spent most of the first day cataloging the stones I’d purchased the day before and putting them on display in the appropriate box. I have my cabochon boxes sorted by price: $10 and Under, $15 to $20, and $25 and over. (I wish everyone did this.) Although I originally began displaying my cabochons to give people an opportunity to pick one for a custom pendant, I soon began selling cabochons to people who just wanted the stones. That’s fine with me since I mark up all the stones I sell — and sell ones I’ve polished myself — so I make money on every sale. It’s actually better when I’m really busy, since special orders can get stacked, making them difficult to fill in the two hours I say I can fill them in. At this event I sold about two dozen cabochons and took special orders for three pendants. I also sold some pendants that were already made, along with some earrings, a bracelet, and a ring.

Friday was a bit slow, but things picked up on Saturday, which is when I started selling more jewelry than rocks. A man who had taken a deep interest in my recently completed rosary came back with his wife for a second look. I could tell that they really liked it, but the $140 price tag may have been too high. (It’s a lot lower than the $180 I’d originally wanted to price it at.) I sold out on all my K2 granite stones — I started the day with seven of them — and also sold a bunch of bumble bee jasper. And I sold a handful of cabochons that I’d made from Washington state obsidian and petrified wood, leaving me without samples of finished stones to help sell the slabs.

Tiger Tail Jasper Kingman Turquoise
Here are two of the five pieces I made on Friday and Saturday: Tiger Tail Jasper in sterling silver and Kingman Turquoise in copper and sterling silver. The turquoise piece sold literally two minutes after I put it on the display board — the buyer was standing right there when I hung it — thus reinforcing my belief that I need to buy more turquoise stones.

The Vehicle Shuffle

In the meantime, I’d asked security if I could leave my camper parked overnight in the lot. They said I could, as long as I didn’t sleep in it. No problem. On Friday, I dropped the camper’s legs and moved the truck out, then lowered the camper nearly as low as it would go. I didn’t bother with the sawhorses since I wouldn’t be spending much time in it. So on Friday evening, when I returned to my friend’s place in Gilbert, the truck was camperless.

That made it a lot easier to pick up the trailer, which I did on Saturday after the show. I’d brought along the hitch extender from home — I suspected that I might buy a trailer while I was in Arizona — and put that in place to see how the trailer would tow at the end of it. I was ready to try to back out of the deal if it looked as if the trailer was too heavy for it. Dan was still home — he told me he had plans to go out that evening — and helped me, which made things a lot quicker. Satisfied that the trailer would be okay at the end of the hitch extender and that the wire might even reach, we disconnected it and reconnected without the hitch extender.

The trailer did have two immediate problems:

  • The trailer had no license plate, making it a perfect target for any cop who wanted an easy ticket to write.
  • My truck was so tall that the trailer’s front wheels were off the ground. I assumed that once the camper was back on the truck the rear end of the truck would come down enough to make that problem go away.

I didn’t consider either problem too serious to drive away, so I did, already feeling a little better about my purchase. I parked in the road in front of my friend’s house that evening. It looked pretty funny with those wheels off the ground.

Overnight, it rained hard. I’d wondered a bit whether the trailer leaked — there was a dent in the front driver’s side near the top — but it was bone dry inside in the morning. I took it with me to the gem show, where I arrived after 9 AM, and parked near where I’d left the camper.

Sunday at the Show

The show was off to a slow start that morning, with a lot of very wet booths and no shoppers. I was glad I’d packed up everything except my tables before leaving the night before. I debated whether I’d bother setting up for the last day. I told myself that if I saw blue sky to the west when I arrived, I would. I didn’t see any blue sky at all.

Rainbox Jasper Slabs
Slabs are usually on display in water because when they’re wet they give you a good indication of what they might look like when polished. This vendor’s display clearly identified the rocks and where they were from. I took photos of the displays so I could document the stones later on.

I decided to do a little shopping. I walked up and down the rows of the rock seller booths, looking for inexpensive cabochons and slabs. I found plenty and spent much of the $120 I’d brought with me that morning. (I’d somewhat wisely left much of what I’d taken in the day before back at the house.) I wound up buying two nice turquoise stones from a mine in New Mexico — that stood me back $43. (Ouch!) I also bought some very inexpensive slabs. And a nice pair of perfectly matched mookiate jasper cabochons for earrings.

Along the way, I stopped at a rock club booth where a bunch of older guys were chatting together. I asked if anyone could help me identify some slabs I had. They said to bring them over. So when I was done shopping and had dropped off my purchases in the truck, I returned with a box full of slabs. By that time, most of the guys were gone, but one person suggested I talk to “Richard” and another brought me to Richard’s booth and introduced me.

What followed was about 45 minutes of me pulling out slabs and Richard telling me all about them, including how they were formed and where they were most likely from. I pulled off pieces of masking tape, wrote the info he provided on them, and stuck them on the rocks. I stumped him once or twice and to make up for it, he’d reach into one of his boxes of slabs on display for sale and hand me another slab, telling me that it was like another one I had. It took me a moment to realize that he wanted me to keep these rocks, too. Soon he was giving me more rocks than he was identifying. It took a little effort to keep him focused, but we finally got through them all.

I told him I wanted to buy him lunch and he said no. So I asked what I could do for him.

“Buy some rocks,” he said.

“But you already gave me a dozen of them,” I replied. “My box is full.” I handed him a $20 bill, which was all I had left.

“Do you want change?” He asked.

“No, I’m good,” I told him.

He gave me another six or so slabs, telling me what each one was. Then he pulled out a gorgeous piece of imperial jasper marked $10. “Do you like this one?” He asked.

“Yes,” I told him. “It’s gorgeous. But I don’t have any money left.”

“Just take it.”

He handed it to me and I put it in my box with the others. Then I thanked him and made a quick departure before he could give me any more.

Leaving the Show

I dropped off my rocks in the truck. By this time, it was after 1 PM. The sun was breaking through the clouds and there were shoppers around. About a quarter of the vendors hadn’t set up that morning. I debated only briefly about setting up. It would take at least 30 minutes to dry off the tables and get them set up again and the event ended at 4 PM. It wasn’t worth it.

So I packed up the tables and stuck them into the trailer with anything else that was large. I had no way to tie anything down, so I left my jewelry and cabochon cases in the truck, not wanting the cases to get damaged if they shifted around.

I disconnected the trailer and put the hitch extension back on with the hitch on the end. I raised the camper, backed under it, and lowered it onto the truck. I fastened the tie-down straps. Then I backed up to the trailer with the assistance of a man who saw me backing up and came over to help. I hooked up the trailer and plugged it in. The cord just reached. Success!

My Rig
Here’s my truck, camper, and new old trailer in the parking lot right after hooking them up. It would be a few days before I got the kayak and tent frame off the camper roof.

Well, partial success. The front wheels of the trailer didn’t make firm contact with the ground, so I’d need to get a drop hitch. And since my truck knows when there’s a trailer plugged in, I learned quickly that every time I made a right turn, the plug would come undone. That means I needed a longer cable or extension.

I stopped at Walmart and Napa and picked up various supplies to drop the hitch and rewire the plug to the trailer. I’d do it all in the morning, I figured. I was in no really hurry to leave.

Purple Nail Polish, MVD, and Visiting another Friend

Purple Toenails?
I always choose boring colors for my nails. This time, I picked something crazy. Lavendar?

On Monday, which was Tiffani’s extra day off from work — she’s off Sunday, too — she scheduled pedicures for herself, Jan, and me. So after I treated her for breakfast, we met Jan at her regular nail place and settled in for a good foot pampering.

Then it was errands. She needed to run up to Scottsdale to pick up medicine for one of her cats. I needed to go to motor vehicle to get a temporary permit to legally tow the trailer up to Washington. She very graciously volunteered to drive me there so I wouldn’t have to take my truck with camper and trailer attached to motor vehicle where parking might be scarce.

By then, I was on hold with USPS. A package I was expecting from India had been recorded as arrived in Phoenix but not scanned in. It had been in limbo for about two weeks and I needed to follow up. We were near the head of the line at MVD over an hour after starting the call when someone finally answered. He was unable to provide any additional information and told me to call DHL, which is the company that supposedly handed off the missing package. Good thing I hadn’t sat around waiting for them to answer. Instead, I managed to wait on hold for one bureaucracy while waiting on line for another, thus wasting time while wasting time. (Oddly enough, ten minutes after he told me he couldn’t help me, my phone pinged with a notification that the package had been scanned in and would be delivered by the end of the week. Coincidence? You tell me.)

When we were done with motor vehicle, we headed north. Tiffani had to pick up Jan at Falcon Field Airport, where their company is based. She knew I had another friend I planned to meet up with who lived up there and suggested I visit him instead of going all the way up to Scottsdale with her. So I worked my phone and arranged to meet him for lunch. Tiffany and Jan dropped me off.

My friend, Mike, is a retired FAA guy. He owned a piece of property across the street from one of the orchards I fly at every summer. In 2010, when he was just starting to build a house there, I rented space on his lot to park my big fifth wheel while I was on contract with the orchard. I would up spending the next three summers there — every summer until I bought my own land in the area.

He’d built the home as a place for he and his wife to retire to. But when he was done, she told him she didn’t want to move there. I really felt awful for him; I’d gone through a similar situation with my wasband when he broke similar promises he’d made to me. He wound up selling the home and if I hadn’t been financing a helicopter overhaul at the time, I probably would have bought it. It would have been an excellent AirBnB property and I already manage the house next door.

Mike was now in the process of getting divorced and had bought a home in Mesa. It was a nice place on a corner lot in a subdivision. He looked great when I saw him — healthier and happier than I think I’ve ever seen him. It’s funny how beneficial a major life change can be.

He showed me around his place, which still needed a lot of furniture. Then we left Penny behind and took his car out to lunch. We wound up at a place Tiffani had suggested that he knew well. I had an excellent eggplant parmesan sandwich, which is something I haven’t had since my New York days. We talked about what he was doing to keep busy and what he’d learned about dating. He pretty much confirmed what I already suspected; too many needy women wanted full-time relationships but the ones that most interested him were the ones who wanted to maintain their own separate home and space. I think the smart folks have it figured out — at our age, we just don’t want the changes and compromises that come with a live-in partner.

Afterwards, we fetched Penny and headed back to the airport where I was going to meet up with Jan and Tiffani. Mike dropped me off and I promised I’d come again, perhaps before the end of this trip.

Woody was at the airport when I got there. He’s the other partner in Jan and Tiffani’s helicopter flight school business. Like Jan, he’s a recently retired airline pilot. But he also flies helicopters. He was one of the cherry drying pilots I worked with last summer. It was good to see him and to finally meet his new dog.

When Jan and Tiffani showed up, we didn’t hang around long. Jan had to go down to the San Tan Valley to see a telescope he was interested in buying. He has a 12-inch telescope in a backyard observatory and was interested in upgrading to a 16-inch. So he, Tiffani, Penny, and I headed down to see it.

16 Inch Telescope
Here’s the telescope Jan is considering. It needs to be mounted on this angle (33°) so it can properly track objects in the night sky. Jan is concerned that it might not fit in his observatory.

The guy who greeted us was a spry older man — 85, we later found out — who had not one but six telescopes. Four field telescopes were in his garage and the other two larger ones were mounted in a shack in his backyard. The shack didn’t look like much and, for the life of me, I couldn’t figure out how he opened the flat roof to look out. But then when Jan asked him to open up to get more light in, he unfastened a few latches and then slid the entire roof back onto a frame just outside the building. It was a neat setup. Chatting with him, we learned that he was a helicopter pilot, had gone flying with a friend in one of Jan and Tiffani’s helicopters years ago, and used to live in Wenatchee! Small world.

Cocktail with Bacon
I sure wish I could remember what this cocktail was. It was extremely tasty, even with the bacon.

Afterwards, we went back to Jan and Tiffani’s house to drop off Penny. Woody showed up with his two dogs. We climbed back into two cars and headed out to dinner. It was early, so dinner consisted of happy hour drinks and bar munchies. It was my last night in Gilbert and I enjoyed spending it out with friends.

Heading Out

I woke up early this morning, stripped the guest bed, and threw the linens in the washer with all my dirty clothes. Then I took my last luxury shower until the next time I was someone’s guest, making sure to wash my hair thoroughly. When the linens and my clothes had gone through the dryer, I remade the bed, arranged the nine (!) pillows on it, and started bringing things out to the camper. The inside of the camper was a complete mess that I’d deal with when I stopped for the night.

It was nearly 10 AM when I said goodbye to Jan and Tiffani. Realizing that a professional could do a better job at rewiring the trailer than I could, I’d made a 10:30 appointment at a local U-Haul dealer so their “hitch pro” could do it. With the clock ticking, I pulled away from their house while they prepared to go to work.

Appointment Stacking

If there’s one thing I’ve learned living 10 miles from the closest supermarket and other in-town conveniences, it’s what I call “appointment stacking.” That when you schedule all the things you need to do within a certain window on a certain day. If done just right, you can get appointments and errands crammed into the minimal amount of time, thus making the absolute best use of your time without a lot of additional trips.

That’s what I did on Tuesday. I stacked the U-Haul appointment, DOR errand, Napa and Walmart return errands, lunch, eye appointment, grocery shopping, and long drive from Gilbert to Peoria into one 8-hour period.

At the U-Haul place, the pro did what I asked: he cut the existing hitch wire extension and replaced it with the longer wire I provided. He was able to reuse the plug. While he worked, I fiddled around with the hitch. I realized that the adjustable drop hitch I’d bought at Walmart dropped the hitch too much. Fortunately, U-Haul had other options. I chose one and asked them to put the 2-5/8 inch ball I’d bought on it. When they were all done, the trailer sat pretty level with all four wheels on the ground and the wiring cable was plenty long. Total cost: $65. So worth it. Later, I’d return the extra parts I’d bought at Napa and Walmart.

The next stop was the Arizona Department of Revenue office where I needed to renew my business permit for Flying M Air to sell drone photos in Quartzsite. That went surprisingly fast and only cost $12.

Then I had time to kill before an eye appointment. I took care of the returns and headed north through the Phoenix area. My appointment was in the Deer Valley area in North Phoenix. So was P.F. Chang’s and I was hungry.

My eye appointment was at 5 PM. Sunset was just after 5:30 PM. I was at least 50 miles from where I wanted to spend the night and I knew I wouldn’t make it before it got a lot darker than I like to drive in. So while I ate I started thinking about alternative places to spend the night, using satellite view in Google Maps to get ideas.

My Campsite
One of the best parts of RVing with a self-contained rig is that you can camp for free in a lot of different places. I know this particular area well; I used to land my helicopter at Wild Horse West for burgers once in a while.

Eye exam and some grocery shopping done, I climbed into my truck at about 6 PM and headed out. I ended up about 15 miles away, parked for the night in a deserted off-road vehicle camping area that was technically in Peoria. I didn’t think anyone would bother me and I was right. I spent the next hour organizing my camper for the next part of my journey and settled down with Penny to read a book. I was asleep by 9 PM.

Snowbirding 2019: At the Backwaters Campsite

Vacation on the Colorado River.

Posts in this series:
The Long Drive
At the Backwaters Campsite
In Mesa and Gilbert
A Quick Stop in Wickenburg and Forepaugh
Off Plomosa Road
• Camping at the Big RV Show
• A Trip to Organ Pipe with the WINs
The Tucson Gem & Mineral Shows
Wickenburg Gold Rush Days
• Constellation Park Interlude
• White Tank Mountain Park
Bumming It in Phoenix and Apache Junction
A Dose of Civilization
Return to the Backwaters

After my long drive south from home, I settled in for a two week stay at my favorite campsite along the Colorado River backwaters. This is south of Ehrenberg, just off a maintained gravel road on BLM land.

BLM, in case you’re wondering, stood for Bureau of Land Management long before it stood for Black Lives Matter. BLM land is federal land and there’s a ton of it in the southwest. It pretty much surrounds the Quartzsite area and stretches all the way to the river. Because you can camp in any one spot for up to 14 days for free on most BLM land, it’s a haven for snowbirds in self-contained campers. In fact, the availability of BLM land all around Quartzsite is probably what makes Quartzsite the January snowbird destination it has become.

Colorado River Sunset
Mother Nature treated me to a nice sunset the day I arrived at camp. Here’s the view from the levee road about 200 yards from my campsite that evening. That’s some California farmland south of Blythe on the other side of the river.

A Little about My Little Rig

These days, I travel with a Lance slide in truck camper. That’s the kind of camper that sits in the bed of a pickup truck. Although not as spacious as the original one I bought years ago to replace my 36-foot fifth wheel with four slides — that huge setup, which became my home for nearly two years, was overkill for one person and a tiny dog — it has everything I need: kitchen with sink, stove, oven, microwave, and refrigerator; bathroom with toilet, sink, shower, and medicine cabinet; queen bed (it came with twins but I replaced them); dining table that can seat three; heat (which runs on propane and DC power) and air conditioning (which requires AC power), and plenty of inside storage. Lance is one of the premier brands of this kind of camper and it really shows. It’s well designed and very comfortable. Best of all, because it’s small I can take it nearly anywhere and I can still tow something behind me. (Last year, I brought my boat along.)

My rig is self-contained — with limits, of course. Its three tanks — fresh water (what comes out of the taps), gray water (sink and shower waste), and black water (toilet waste) — hold 30 gallons each, which may not seem like a lot, but with just one person to utilize them, it’s not bad. Fresh water is the limiting factor here and I carry two empty 6-1/2 gallon jugs so I can haul water back to my rig and refill the tank when supplies get low. Of the two waste water tanks, only the gray water tank can be dumped without harming the environment; I use bio degradable soaps and have a hose to direct water into thirsty desert greenery. I don’t do that unless I absolutely must. The longest I’d ever gone without dumping the black water tank was 10 days, so this stay would (hopefully) create a new record at 14. And no, in answer to a question by others who wonder, the toilet tank does not stink. I use some eco-friendly chemicals in the tank and have been pleasantly pleased by the complete lack of smell, perfume or otherwise.

For power, I’ve got two deep cycle batteries and 200 watts of solar panels on the roof to charge them. A solar controller tells me how much power is going in when the sun is out and what the current battery voltage and charge percentage are. I’ve seen incoming power reach 5.4 amps — without even being pointed toward the sun. On a typical Arizona cloudless day, the battery percentage will go from a pre-dawn low of 40% to 50% — mostly because I run my forced hot air heater at night — to 90% by noon. (It won’t read 100% for reasons I still don’t quite understand.) If the weather is cloudy, which does happen even in the desert, and I can’t get enough power into the batteries with the solar panels, I have a 2KW Honda generator I can run for a while to charge everything up. I generally don’t use AC-powered appliances like the microwave or a coffee maker but I admit that when the generator is running, I might take advantage of its AC power to reheat leftovers in the microwave.

For Internet, I’m at the mercy of my provider and location. I’ve been a Verizon subscriber for more than 20 years now and that’s mostly because it really does have the best network coverage. Even so, I’ve been in more than a few locations where coverage is poor or non-existent. When I camp, I like to get away. And honestly, do we really need Internet access 24/7/365?

My Camping Companion

This year I was joined at the river again by my friend Janet, an artist that lives mostly in Colorado. We’ve been friends for about 20 years now and that’s at least as long as she and her significant other, Steve, have been going to Quartzsite in January to show and sell her artwork. I’ve been camping out on the river with Janet (and often others) since my first snowbirding trip south in 2015, when I hauled my old fifth wheel down for the last time and killed my old truck doing it. Although she and Steve live in a fifth wheel (remarkably like my old one) year-round, she has a much smaller pull trailer she uses at shows and that’s what she brings to the river to camp in. Last year she and I camped a bit farther down the road.

I arrived on Thursday afternoon; Janet came in on Friday. She arrived in a new (to her) used truck that had a van front and a box back. It was called Wild Blue because it was blue and had previously belonged to the air force. This was an upgrade from her old van, which was getting “tired” after a long life on the road. In the future, she and Steve would configure the back with shelving to secure and store her art show booth panels and artwork. But for now, it was mostly empty, holding her kayak and some of her art supplies. Like me, she planned to work on this vacation.

Janet had Lulu, her geriatric pug along with her. Lulu is nearly blind and deaf and needs to be carried up and down stairs and placed in appropriate places to sleep or do her business. Assisted living. But she has a good appetite and doesn’t seem to be in pain. She definitely communicates when she’s hungry. I was pretty surprised to see her; I thought she might have died by now. Now she’s thinner and frailer, but still wearing that pink hoodie on cold desert mornings.

I’d been sick all day when they arrived — I’m pretty sure it’s something I ate in Vegas on Wednesday night. (I like to think it wasn’t the oysters because they were the best part of the meal.) I’d been dozing all day on the bed with no appetite and nausea that I was barely able to keep under control with Sea Bands (pressure point nausea prevention that usually works like a charm for me). So when she arrived, she found the campsite pretty much the way it was when I arrived the afternoon before: camper and truck parked separately but nothing else done. It was a good thing she didn’t need my help setting up because I was pretty much useless. In fact, I was so out of it that I went to bed before it got dark, leaving her alone by the campfire she’d built.

The Shop Tent

After sleeping about 10 hours, I was 80% recovered. By noon I was 90%. By Sunday, I was back to normal. But in the meantime, I needed to finish setting up my camp so I had room to live inside my stuffed camper.

You see, the only major drawback I had on this trip was the amount of stuff I had to bring with me to show and sell my jewelry at the two shows I was scheduled to attend. That included a 10×10 foot tent shelter with all its canvas, three folding tables, a tall director’s chair, table cloths, easels, all the jewelry and cabochons I put on display, selling supplies, and the tools and materials I need to create more jewelry. I’d also decided to practice my soldering skills so I brought most of my soldering equipment. Although I would have loved to bring my CabKing cabochon maker, I had a hard enough time squeezing the above listed gear and my additional camping equipment — generator, water jugs, bicycle, etc. — into my camper and truck. Living with this stuff inside my rig was not an option, but I had a solution: I’d put up the tent shelter and set it up as a shop.

Stowed Tables
When it came time to packing my gear, I got creative. Here are three folding tables and three cases of cabochons secured at the foot of my bed. These didn’t really get in my way during the trip and could have stayed here.

I should also mention here that last year I bought a custom canvas setup for the space under the sleeping area of the camper, so when it’s off the truck, I can put on the canvas and create a sort of garage. I’d set that up for my bicycle and generator and other stuff.

So that’s what I did on the Saturday after my arrival. Janet helped me with the tent — the damn thing is tough for one person to assemble alone. I staked it down, put on the sides, and even spread a mat on the floor inside. Then I moved the tables out from where they had been secured against the wall inside the camper at the foot of my bed and the chair from the back of the truck. Little by little, I brought out everything I could, freeing up valuable living space inside and making my truck usable for transportation by two people and two dogs. (I wish I’d taken a photo, but I don’t seem to have any pictures of our campsite at all.)

Turkey Tail Fan
One of Janet’s tasks was to remove feathers from a wild turkey’s tail fan. I shot a narrated video of her that we put on YouTube.

Meanwhile, Janet set up a little shop just outside Wild Blue. There was no wind and the weather was perfect in the sun — a good thing because she was working with feathers. For the next few days, she’d work on a new project there while I tried to practice soldering in my tent.

Sunrise
Mother Nature also served up some pretty dramatic sunrises. Here’s one from my camper’s back door early during our stay.

Recreation

Of course, it wasn’t all work for us. In fact, it was very little work for us. We spent a lot of our time just taking it easy.

Kayak Bag and Dog
I got Penny to pose atop my Hobie kayak bag to give some sense of the size of the bag. Although it’s big and rather unwieldy, it has wheels and handles that make it easy to move around. The whole kayak, including seat, pedal drive, paddle, and pump fits in this bag.

After camp was set up, I pulled out my new kayak and pumped it up, thrilled to see that it required very little pumping to get it up to the right pressure. We brought our kayaks down to the backwater and launched them. I struggled a tiny bit getting the pedal drive in place and secured and then gave it a workout. I realized that although I could also paddle, the high seat position I’d chosen made it difficult to do so without getting wet. I’d lower the seat the next time I assembled it. We’d go out a few times over the next two weeks. Janet likes to fish and although I do, too, I don’t like it nearly as much as she does. So while she fished, I pedaled around. The backwater is about a mile long — very quiet with calm water, ducks, and herons — and makes a perfect place to explore.

Penny on the Boat
One of the days we went paddling, the conditions were perfect for some nice reflection photos. This shot would have been better if I hadn’t been shooting through a plastic bag.

Janet Kayaking
Here’s Janet in the kayak with Dually. Dually absolutely loves to go boating and, remarkably, can stay balanced on the kayak.

We went on a power walk most mornings. Sometimes we took a short route that was about a mile and a half. Other times we took a longer route that was more than two and a half miles, much of it in sand. Penny ran all over the desert, following the scent of rabbits we never saw, and snooping into burrow holes. After Christmas, we also had Dually, Janet and Steve’s big dog. When he could, Dually would get a drink out of the backwater channel, wading in up to his chest sometimes.

We ran errands in Ehrenberg — post office, water, etc. There’s a shop there that caters to off-the-grid campers; for $1 I could fill both of my water jugs. We refilled our propane tanks — I’m not shy about using my heater or water heater and went though 10 gallons of propane in two weeks.

Trump Shop
Yes, there’s at least one Trump Shop booth in Quartzsite this year. I find it hilarious that Trump supporters have managed to cash in on the popularity of the con man in the White House.

We went into Quartzsite a few times. The shows were just setting up before Christmas and were almost fully set up by New Year’s Day. We always need a few tool-like things for camp and we know just where to get them. There’s a discount grocery store we visit, too. I think one of the challenges for me is to outfit my camper and camp as frugally as possible. If you know where to go in Quartzsite, it’s easy enough to do.

Every night we’d share a meal together which was usually a joint effort with food from Janet’s place and food from mine. For the first time ever, we both seemed to have brought along enough food that shopping expeditions were unnecessary. We had a campfire most nights and, on occasion, we’d use its hot coals to roast sweet potatoes or even potatoes from my garden — I brought whatever I had left — for dinner that night or snacking the next. (There’s nothing quite like sweet potatoes roasted in foil on a campfire.)

Campfire with Potatoes
One night we roasted two regular potatoes to go with our steak dinner and one sweet potato for me to snack on the next day.

The Christmas Break

Nopalitos
A typical breakfast for me consists of a breakfast meat sautéed with veggies and topped with one or two eggs. After my trip to Blythe, I could include chopped nopalitos — prepared prickly pear cactus pads — in my veggie mix.

Steve came just before Christmas and he and Janet left with both of their dogs to visit Steve’s family in California. I had the campsite to myself during that time. (I blogged about my quiet Christmas in the end of this blog post.) While they were gone, I went grocery shopping in Blythe, right across the river in California, where I picked up nopalitos that I often mix in with the other veggies in my breakfast scramble. I also went on a bead buying expedition in Quartzsite. As a jewelry reseller with all the necessary paperwork, I was able to get wholesale prices without having to pay sales tax. That’s a huge savings given Quartzsite’s outrageous 10% sales tax. I don’t use a lot of beads in my work, so I bought enough to last a year.

It’s around then that the wind kicked up just enough to put a thin layer of dust all over everything in my shop tent. It took me a while to realize why I was having trouble keeping my hands clean and why the polishing wheels I used on the rings and bracelets I made were turning black. When I noticed that I was hammering dirt into the silver I shaped for a new design of earrings, I gave up in frustration. The shop tent was not working out — at least not there.

Earrings
A new earring design requires me to hammer lengths of heavy gauge wire flat. The conditions in my tent shop were too dusty for me to make more than a few pairs.

Dreams of a Cargo Trailer Shop

Heirloom Rosary
I made this rosary from carnelian and obsidian beads, sterling silver cross and medal, and a lot of fine silver wire. It took a long time — each bead is separately attached in its own segment — but I’m very pleased at how it turned out.

When Janet returned and moved her workspace into the back of Wild Blue, pointed into the wind so she was sheltered even with the back doors wide open, I joined her for work on a new project: an heirloom rosary in sterling and fine silver with carnelian and obsidian beads. It was nice sitting in the sun, sheltered from the wind and dust. I started thinking about a cargo trailer I could set up as a mobile shop.

This wasn’t the first time I’d had that idea. Twice over the past six months I’d considered buying a cargo trailer to bring south with me. I’d even priced up new ones at a trailer place in Moses Lake near where I live. But I have a lot of stuff and did I really want more? No.

But I was started to think that I needed it. Not only would it give me a good place to work while I was traveling every winter, but it would reduce the amount of stuff I had to load into the truck and camper when I broke camp and moved to my next spot. So I did something my friend Bob would be proud of: I started searching Craig’s List. I found a few good candidates in the Phoenix area that I could check out on the next leg of my trip.

Time to Move On

The two weeks on the river went quickly, as it always does. My first show, the annual Flagg Gem and Mineral Show, was in Mesa, AZ with setup on Thursday, January 3. I’d be spending that whole weekend with some friends in nearby Gilbert.

Camper Roof
The roof of my camper with the kayak (left) and tent frame (right)fastened to the roof rack. Getting them up and down on my own was not an option.

I started getting things together on Tuesday and did most of my packing — including taking the shop tent down — on Wednesday. A friend came by to visit and I enlisted his help getting the tent frame up onto the roof of the camper so I wouldn’t have to put it in the back seat area of the truck. Janet helped me get the kayak, now back in its bag, on the roof. Janet broke camp, too, although I don’t think she had nearly as much stuff outside her camper and truck as I did.

On Thursday morning, we hooked up our rigs. I pulled out first; I needed to check for mail again and wanted to top off my water tank. We met later on at RV Pit Stop in Quartzsite where we dumped our tanks and I refilled a propane bottle. Then we met up again in the big parking lot behind Tyson Wells.

Although the rock show hadn’t officially started yet, about 80% of the vendors were set up and open. The vendor I’d been waiting for was there and I told Janet to go on without me as I spent about an hour browsing cabochons. This particular vendor sells certain stones that I use a lot of at a good price. I planned to stock up for all of 2019. I wound up buying 32 of them and will likely go back for more before the end of January.

By that time, it was 1 PM and I had a 2-1/2 hour drive ahead of me. We parted ways and I headed out of town, stopping only long enough to buy a very messy burger from a vendor nearby. My hands smelled like fried onions for the whole drive.

Snowbirding 2019: The Long Drive

About 1,253 miles in three days. But who’s counting?

Posts in this series:
The Long Drive
At the Backwaters Campsite
In Mesa and Gilbert
A Quick Stop in Wickenburg and Forepaugh
Off Plomosa Road
• Camping at the Big RV Show
• A Trip to Organ Pipe with the WINs
The Tucson Gem & Mineral Shows
Wickenburg Gold Rush Days
• Constellation Park Interlude
• White Tank Mountain Park
Bumming It in Phoenix and Apache Junction
A Dose of Civilization
Return to the Backwaters

Note: I haven’t been blogging nearly as often as I should and I do need to apologize for that. I have some excuses. Do you want to hear them?

  • My 8-year-old laptop is so damn slow that it’s frustrating to use it. I ought to have bought a new laptop this winter, but I bought a Hobie kayak and a cargo trailer instead. (More on both in a moment.)
  • I discovered that the charger for said laptop sucks power out of my RVs batteries faster than my solar panels can put it back in so I haven’t been charging it. The idea of running a generator to charge a laptop is distasteful to me (although I do admit that I used it to charge all my drone batteries the other day).
  • I had seriously sucky Internet service for the first two weeks of my trip. (Of course, that didn’t stop me from getting on Twitter every single day.)
  • I’ve been extremely busy doing things other than sitting in front of a computer. (And isn’t that a good thing?)

Anyway, let me fill you in — as briefly as possible for me — on what I’ve been up to since I left my home in the capable hands of the best house sitter in the world on December 18. I’ll do it in multiple blog posts so I can bang them out more quickly and (hopefully) not put readers to sleep with a very long post.

– Maria


I took the fastest route from Malaga to my first long term campsite on the Colorado River. In case you’re wondering, that’s route 84 to Twin Falls, ID and down Route 93 to Las Vegas, NV. Because I really don’t like to drive in unfamiliar areas at night, I broke the trip up into three days and squeezed it into a weather window that called for some rain and high winds but no snow.

Fastest Route
Google knows its stuff. I’ve tried a bunch of different routes and this one is definitely fastest.

Sinclair
For some reason, Sinclair gas stations really crack me up. Does anyone else remember the old sitcom “Dinosaurs”?

The first day was Malaga to a state park in Glenns Ferry. I drove in light rain for the first half of the day, hitting the forecasted high wind right around Pendleton, OR, where I stopped for fuel and a late breakfast. I’d been a little concerned about my high profile vehicle — I’m driving a pickup truck with a relatively large Lance truck camper on top — but it didn’t really affect me as much as I’d worried. The truck drove well at the speed limit, which was 75 in most of Washington, 65 in Oregon, and as high as 85 in Idaho. (70 mph seems to be the most fuel efficient speed.) I stopped for fuel in Mountain Home right around sunset, so it was pretty dark when I arrived at Three Island Crossing State Park. From what I could see, there was only one other camper — a pull trailer with its lights on. I picked a site on the other side of the campground and backed in. Although the water was turned off for the winter, the electricity was turned on, so I could run my electric heater and use my coffee maker in the morning.

I left before dawn for day two, which took me into Twin Falls and then down route 93. Although 93 is only one lane in each direction, the speed limit was 65 and there was no traffic. I fueled up in Wells, NV and probably should have fueled in Ely. That made things a little tense when my thirsty truck’s low fuel warning came on in the middle of nowhere, NV. Fortunately, I found fuel in Ash Springs, a tiny town that might exist primarily as a fuel stop. From there, it was down 93 to I-15 and I-15 into my next night’s stop, the KOA at Sam’s Town Casino in Las Vegas.

I picked that campground for a few reasons. First, I know it. Second, it’s reasonably priced. Third, it has great, underutilized showers, which is important when your shower stall is your bathroom and you know it’s the only shower stall you’ll have for the next two weeks. Fourth, when I’m getting ready to start two full weeks off the grid, I want a fully charged battery, empty waste tanks, and full fresh water tanks — all of which I could get at a full hookup campsite.

I had dinner at Sam’s Town: a half-dozen oysters on the half shell, an end cut of prime rib which was too big to finish and wound up being fed to dogs over the next week or so, and cheesecake. I stuffed myself, which was a big mistake. Honestly, the prime rib wasn’t even good. I could have spent the same on a much better and lighter meal at MGM Grand; one of their restaurants has an excellent steak tartare.

Oysters Prime Rib
The oysters were amazing. I probably should have had 2 dozen of those and skipped the rest of the meal. Or not?

In the morning, I had a long, hot shower, took care of the waste and fresh water in my rig, and headed out, stopping at Walmart for bottled spring water and Trader Joe’s for other goodies on my way out of town.

I didn’t take the quickest route from Vegas to my final destination. Instead, I took route 95 to I-40, crossed, the river, and drove south on the Arizona side through Lake Havasu.

Clouds
The clouds were amazing as I drove down route 95 south of Boulder City toward I-40.

London Bridge
While I was at Lake Havasu City, I stopped for fish and chips at a restaurant near London Bridge.

You see, I’d been thinking about a Hobie inflatable kayak for about a year. I’d left home without my kayak and I wanted another look at the Hobie. At the Hobie dealer in Lake Havasu, I took one for a test pedal/paddle — it has a pedal drive — and bought it. Somehow, we squeezed it into my camper, which was already full with all the additional crap I had to bring south with me to show my jewelry at shows in Arizona.

I arrived in Ehrenberg, AZ around 3:30 PM and stopped at the post office, where I retrieved my box key and collected the mail already waiting for me. (I rent a box there every winter.) Then I drove south on the unpaved Oxbow Road, my fingers crossed. There were three sites I was considering; last year we’d been stuck with the last choice. This year, luck was on my side — I was absolutely thrilled to find my first choice campsite unoccupied. After debating with myself on how I’d park my camper to get the best view of the backwater channel while not completely isolating myself from a friend who’d be joining me, I backed in, dropped the camper’s legs, and pulled my truck away. If my truck could sigh in relief, I think it would.

Camper View
Here’s the view from my camper’s back door. I always try, when parking out in the desert to put something I’d like to look at out my back door where I can see it from my dining table.

My 1250+ mile drive was over.

Christmas at My House

A lot more enjoyable these days.

I’ve been thinking a lot about Christmas lately.

So what? you’re probably saying. Everyone is thinking about Christmas these days.

I’m sure that’s true. But I haven’t been thinking about it the way everyone else has. I haven’t been thinking about buying lots of gifts and getting the best deals on them. I haven’t been thinking about Christmas lights or trees or decorations. I haven’t been thinking about making holiday dinner or travel plans. I haven’t been thinking about recipes or picky eaters or squeezing people around a table that might be too small. I haven’t been thinking about traffic or bridge tolls or parking. I haven’t been thinking about the inevitable battle of ideas — red vs. blue — that’s certain to be a major part of any family gathering in the U.S.

In other words, I’m not thinking about Christmas the way most people are.

Instead, I’m reflecting on what Christmas used to be at my home and how it’s different now. Bear with me while I tell you a little about it.

Childhood Christmas

Christmas at my house when I was a kid was probably a lot like every other middle class family’s. It included a Christmas tree — normally live cut — with lots of decorations, some of which had been handed down as family heirlooms. Some years, there was an HO train around the base of the tree and antique figures, likely made from lead, skating on a mirror ice rink.

We usually spent Christmas Eve at our house, often with two or four grandparents. My mother made dinner, which was normally based around seafood. She seemed to think that Catholic tradition meant no meat on Christmas Eve and if I had an Internet connection right now, I’d look it up to see if she was right. It doesn’t really matter, though.

We usually opened gifts at midnight on Christmas Eve, sometimes after attending midnight mass. The year I realized Santa wasn’t real is the year my 6’4″ father showed up at our house in a Santa suit.

Gifts were the usual collection of toys and sweaters.

On Christmas Day, we went to my mother’s brother’s house about 10 miles away. I had two cousins — I suppose I still do, although I haven’t seen or heard from either one of them in over 15 years — who were just younger than me and my sister. My sister and I always got the same gift from my aunt and uncle: a pair of identical dolls, a pair of identical sweaters, a pair of identical scarves, etc. (Only 16 months apart, we looked so similar that people thought we were twins and my aunt trying to dress us the same every Christmas didn’t make things any better.) My aunt made a huge Italian dinner that started with an antipasto and progressed through the remaining courses: pasta, meat (ham or turkey) with sides, dessert with coffee or espresso, and nuts. It took hours to eat. The kids ate at the kitchen table while the grownups squeezed around the long dining room table. When my godfather was there, things often got rowdy. It was always loud.

Christmas with a New Family

After my parents split and my mother remarried, Christmas changed. There were far more gifts with much bigger price tags. I remember getting a rabbit fur coat that first Christmas — it was in the mid 1970s and I was about 15 — and feeling like I was a rich kid.

It was probably around this time that we started the tradition of distributing the gifts and then each person opening one up while we went around the room until all the presents had been opened. It took over an hour to get through them all — mostly because we all had some kind of commentary about every single gift — but I enjoyed every minute. Not only did you get to see what each person got as a gift, but you got to see their reaction to it. As you might imagine, this ranged from are you kidding another sweater? to omigod this is exactly what I wanted!

I don’t remember the arrangements for that first Christmas, but I’m pretty sure my steps — two stepsisters and a stepbrother just a little older than us — came over. They certainly did when we moved to Long Island in 1977. It was probably about a 90-mile drive for them, which I know was rough because around then is when we started making the long drive from Long Island to New Jersey on Christmas Day. That was a bitch because there was always traffic on the Cross Bronx Expressway, which we couldn’t avoid.

Every year was a little different after that, although I’m pretty sure Christmas Eve was always at our house with that seafood dinner. My brother made lobster bisque one year when he was in culinary school and my sister and I rescued large hunks of lobster from the trash; he claimed he only cooked them for their flavor and didn’t need them in the soup. (WTF?)

Christmas as Half of a Couple

When I lived in Queens and later New Jersey with my future wasband, Christmas was a bit of an ordeal, mostly because of travel. We’d go to my parents house on Christmas Eve and his parents house on Christmas Day. Traffic was a nightmare, especially on Christmas Day when we lived in New Jersey. We were dealing with the Cross Bronx Expressway again, but in the opposite direction. Amazingly it was bumper-to-bumper in both directions.

At my parents’ house, the Christmas Eve traditions went on: tree, holiday decorations, seafood dinner, presents opening as close to midnight as possible. One or more of the steps usually showed up with a boyfriend or spouse. We often killed time by playing poker — for money — at a nice game table my parents had in the corner of the living room. It was usually pleasant.

At my future wasband’s parents’ house, things were different. It was loud, presents were opened in a mad rush that took 10 minutes and left you wondering what the person who got your gift thought about it, and there was a constant undertone of bickering. His mother was (understandably) stressed and his father teased her mercilessly so voices got raised. His sister’s high-pitched voice always seemed to be heard above the general din. It was never a pleasant experience for me but I did it because, well, that’s what you do when you’re part of a couple.

Christmas in Arizona

Things improved immensely when we moved to Arizona, leaving both of our families behind. Although we did go back a few times for the holidays — what were we thinking? — we eventually stopped the insanity and spent quiet Christmases at home or at some vacation property we owned near the Grand Canyon. One year we grabbed our cameras, hopped in my Jeep, and spent Christmas Day exploring the desert. (It was a foreshadowing of my future Christmases.)

The one year his family flew out to stay with us for Christmas was a borderline disaster, starting with their flight from New York. In my wasband’s never-ending attempts to save a buck, he’d managed to save $50 on airfare by putting his sister and mother on a flight on ATA with a stop at Chicago’s Midway Airport. What could go wrong with a budget airline winter flight stopping over in a northern city? The plane had mechanical issues and because they didn’t have a spare plane, his mother and sister were stuck at Midway for a while. I don’t remember the details — hell, his brother and niece may have been with them — but it cast a pall over their entire trip. His sister, of course, made things worse by refusing to sleep on the futon in my office, forcing my wasband to put her up in a hotel. Always interested in saving a buck, he put her in a place in town that wasn’t exactly the Hilton with an indoor pool that she apparently expected. Then she refused to take his car to make the trip back and forth, forcing him to become her taxi service when she wanted to come and go. Then, if that wasn’t enough, she decided to go through my dresser drawers and came down wearing my favorite t-shirt. I was so surprised that I actually said something about it which, of course, offended her to the point where she pretty much stopped talking to me for the rest of the stay. (Lucky me.)

As you can imagine, they never came back as a group again.

(A side story here. My family’s one-time visit as a group to our house in Arizona had its hiccups, too. It was Thanksgiving and I think it might have been the same year. Sitting around the kitchen table talking or playing cards or something, my sister or brother said something to me and I replied in my best Sarah Palin voice, “You betcha!” My mother went freaking ballistic. It was the year that McCain and Palin had lost to Obama and she was still sore about it. That was the beginning of a huge political riff caused primarily by her addiction to Fox News. She once told my sister that 9/11 happened because my sister voted for Gore. Where do people get crazy ideas like that?)

Anyway, Christmas on our own was a lot more relaxed and pleasant than it had been back east. And I liked it!

Christmas on My Own

The year my crazy divorce started, I spent Christmas at my mother’s house. She’d moved with my step dad to Florida. I went down far enough in advance to avoid travel woes and I came home to Arizona — I was still living in my “marital home” — on Christmas Day. Flying on the airlines on Christmas Day is quite a pleasure; try it sometime.

After that, when I moved to Washington and built my new home, I did my own thing for Christmas. I usually went cross country skiing up the Methow Valley, which has some of the best groomed trails in the country. (Supposedly, Olympic athletes train there.) Sometimes I’d already gone south for the winter and did something alone or with friends — two years ago I saw a movie, last year I went boating. Very relaxing.

Over time, the actual date of Christmas started to shift. My sister, brother, and I began shopping using Amazon wish lists. Throughout the year, we’d add things we wanted to a list and then, right around Thanksgiving, tune up that list so it only included the items we really wanted. Then, after Thanksgiving, we’d use the lists to shop for each other. This is amazingly convenient for three reasons:

  • You are guaranteed to get the recipient exactly what he/she wants. Hell, they gave you a link to it!
  • You can get all your shopping done without leaving the house. You can even do it in the middle of the night if you have weird sleep patterns like I do.
  • You don’t have to worry about wrapping and boxing and shipping the item to the recipient. Amazon does it for you. This is a huge cost-saver with free shipping when recipients live in New Jersey, Florida, and Washington State.

In the beginning, we’d wait until Christmas to open the gifts. At least my sister and I would. My brother opened them as they arrived. So we all started opening them as soon as they arrived. For a while, it’s Christmas every few days. And then the last present arrives and all the thank you phone calls and texts stop coming and going. And that’s when Christmas is over.

As least for me.

This year, Christmas ended for me on around December 10. I was done Christmas shopping and had gotten all of my gifts. I had no holiday parties to attend — although I did turn down two invitations — and no travel plans other than my usual plan to go south. I had no reason to go to a mall or any other shopping center where I might be subject to large doses of holiday music.

(Another side note here. I have to say that I’m bummed out about the newly found hate for the song Baby It’s Cold Outside, which I’ve always considered a playful seasonal duet. Yes, I realize that no means no, but seriously? Do you really think it’s a product of rape culture? Get a grip. What’s next? Jingle Bells? Will PETA take issue with that poor horse pulling a sleigh in the cold? [Insert eyeroll emoji here.])

How I’ll Spend This Christmas

The calendar tells me that it’s Christmas Eve morning, but I just see it as a Monday on vacation. I’m camped out in the desert with a friend. Soon she and her significant other will leave on a long drive to his parents house in California. They’ll participate in the same kind of Christmas rituals other people — including me in the past — participate in. Meanwhile, I’ll probably head into town to top off a propane tank and fetch some water and maybe buy some beads for a project I’m working on. Later, I’ll grill up a nice piece of salmon for dinner — ironically having fish on Christmas Eve.

Weather permitting, I’ll spend Tuesday — which you might think of as Christmas — in the shop I set up outside my camper, practicing my soldering skills (which need a lot of practice). If it’s really nice, I’ll take my new kayak — a Christmas present to myself — out for a paddle on the backwater channel I can see from my camper window. Maybe I’ll grill up a steak for dinner, but it’s more likely that I’ll make a nice omelet using eggs I brought south from my chickens at home.

Arizona Sunrise
I’m at my Christmas destination. Here’s what Friday’s sunrise looked like.

If you’re reading this and are, for some reason, pitying me because I’ll spend Christmas alone, save your pity for someone else. I’m pitying the people who have to climb into cars and brave traffic to gather at a relative’s home for noise, bickering, disappointing gifts, and the inevitable political argument. I’ve been there and I’ve done that and I’m so very, very glad I’ll likely never have to do it again.

You Don’t Need Holidays

My thoughts about holidays like Christmas, Thanksgiving, and Easter are simple: People put too much emphasis on them and not enough on the 362 other days of the year.

You want to spend some quality time with a relative or friend? Go visit them in June or February or October. A day that isn’t a holiday, a day that doesn’t come with holiday baggage. Or better yet, meet them in a place you’d both like to visit — a park or a museum or a restaurant — and spent your quality time there, enjoying a shared experience that doesn’t require one of you to clean house, prepare a meal, or fret about having company.

And if you happen to think about me and this blog post while you’re enduring your own Christmas trials this year, try hard not to be too jealous.