Tag Archives: BLM

Snowbirding 2022: At the BLM Holtville Hot Springs

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Another video blog entry from my trip.

I’ll let the video say it all. Here it is, followed by the script I was so obviously reading. (Sorry! I’ll work on eye contact.)

Greetings! Maria here with Lily and Rosie the dogs and Turtleback 2, my trusty truck camper, reporting in from the BLM Holtville Hot Springs near Holtville, California.

We got here nearly a week ago, looking for a warm place to spend a few days. I’ve been coming here for the past six or so years — although I didn’t come last year — so I know the place pretty well. The hot springs is at a BLM Long Term camping area. That means you can pay $40 to camp for up to two weeks or $160 to camp for up to 7 months. I paid for the two-week pass, even though I only expected to stay a few days.

The campground is inhabited by mostly retired folks in all kinds of rigs. Most of them are decked out with solar panels for power. There are also some full-time RVers who either live here a few months or pass through like I do. The campsites are nicely spread out and relatively private. The place is quiet because most folks don’t use generators and it’s not the kind of place that would appeal to rowdy folks.

The main feature here is the hot springs, which is just outside the camping area unfortunately close to Interstate 8. The soaking area consists of three tubs. The large one is very deep — I’m 5 foot 8 and it goes to my shoulders — and usually the hottest one. That one’s overflow goes into a smaller tub that’s shallow and is usually the coolest of the bunch. Those two are both concrete. The third one, which is new to me, is a standard stock tank that can comfortably seat three people; its temperature varies on how recently it was filled.

The hot water comes into the tanks from a Frankenstein’s monster of pipes, valves, and hoses. Below the surface of the largest tub is the valve with the hottest water because it’s closest to the source. From there, the water also goes up a vertical pipe to feed another valve with cooler water (because it’s going through the air before it hits the tub) and finally a rotating shower head. Along the way, there’s a valve and a hose to feed the stock tank.

The whole setup is cleaned weekly on Tuesday mornings by a team of volunteers from the campground using a truckload of equipment. They drain all tanks and use a power washer to clean their surfaces. In the old days, they used to put spa chemicals into it, but they don’t do that anymore. Now they just refill the tanks and they’re good to go for another week. Because fresh water can always be added, the water flushes through nicely and doesn’t really get too gross.

All of the area’s overflow drains into a beautiful pond surrounded by palm trees. I used to see ducks in here, but I haven’t seen any so far this year.

I recommend this place if you don’t mind a more rugged hot springs experience. The tubs are nice but they are shared. Clothing is required — if you strip down, you will be asked to dress. You’re also expected to shower before entering any of the tubs. Common courtesy prevails.

There are a number of hot springs sources in the area. Nearby, there’s a geothermal plant that I can sometimes hear humming if I go out at night and there’s supposed to be another hot spring about 10 or so miles north of here that isn’t quite as nice as this.

My pups and I will be here a day or two longer. This has been my most pleasant stop so far, with great weather, lots of sun, two hot tub soaks a day, and plenty of biking and walking. And the Internet access on my mobile devices is wicked fast. I’m not looking forward to moving on.

Let me know what you think about this video in the comments. If you’d like to see more — including livestream video from Quartzsite, AZ during the big rock shows — please subscribe! And check out my blog for more details about my winter travels this year.

See you!

Snowbirding 2020 Postcards: Painted Rocks Petroglyph Site

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I make an unscheduled stop at an interesting place I don’t need to visit again.

After my very successful show at White Tanks Regional Park on the west side of Phoenix, I headed southwest to southeastern California. The goal was to stop in Yuma to do laundry and buy some groceries and then spend a week in the desert near the Holtville Hot Spring.

Along the way, however, not long after I got on I-8 at Gila Bend, I saw a sign for the Painted Rocks Petroglyph Site. I’d lived in Arizona for 15+ years and had never visited this archeological site. I wasn’t in any hurry and I didn’t have anyone expecting me anywhere, so I turned off the freeway and headed north.

The 14 mile road was smooth for the first 5 miles or so. After that, it headed into the hills and got windy. This was unfortunate because one of my new puppies, Rosie, gets carsick. I had her on medication but the drooling started nearly immediately and she lost her breakfast before we reached the park.

I pulled into the campground, which was just past the main parking area, got out with my puppies on leashes, and walked back to the pile of boulders that appeared to be the main feature of the park. I immediately saw a No Dogs sign. I’ll never understand why places in the middle of nowhere that are mostly fenced off anyway don’t allow leashed dogs. We went back to the camper and I tucked them inside, when went back for a walk around the boulder pile.

There were a lot of carvings on the rocks. Most looked like they could be prehistoric, but there were also a bunch from various explorers, missionaries, and other travelers coming through in the 1800s and early 1900s. There was a trail going around the pile and I took it. Most of the markings appeared to one on the southeast side, but who knows? Signs forbid going up into the rocks for a closer look.

Petroglyphs
Many of the boulders had prehistoric markings.

Petroglyphs
Here’s how it works. The rocks naturally form a black color known as “desert varnish.” People chisel away at the black color to expose the natural rock color beneath it. You can see this in many places in the desert southwest.

I took some photos, including two shots of a flower I’d never seen before, and headed back to my rig.

Flowers Flower Closeup
These little flowers were relatively widespread in the area. I don’t know what they are; I still haven’t bothered looking them up.

The campground was nearly empty. I debated back and forth whether I should just camp there for the night. It would be nice to be somewhere quiet with dark skies. I could get to Yuma and then my final destination earlier in the day. With that in mind, I drove through the campground, found a site away from everyone else, and parked.

More campers arrived throughout the afternoon. Despite the remoteness of the area in a valley surrounded by ancient volcanic remnants, my cell signal was strong and Internet access was wicked fast. A rainstorm came through. I went for a nice walk away from the rocks with my dogs. My next door neighbor ran a relatively quiet generator in the evening. It was too cloudy to see stars.

My Rig
Here’s a photo of my rig at the campsite early the next morning before we departed. You can see the pile of rocks that’s the main feature of the park in the space in front of my truck. You can also see Lily the Dog standing up in my truck window.

It had been a relaxing day — something pretty rare when I’m in transit — but I realized early in the morning that I was eager to get to my next destination. By 7 AM, we were back on the road. Rosie, dosed up with her motion sickness medication, hardly drooled before we got to the freeway.

And although I rarely have a “been there, done that attitude,” I had one about Painted Rocks as I drove away.

Snowbirding 2020 Postcards: Last Aerial Look at Camp

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I send the drone up for one last look at our camp in relation to surroundings.

Our camp, which was home to six people at its peak, is down to just three of us. Karen and Steve left a little over a week ago; they couldn’t seem to get work done with some much nature to distract them. (Steve loves to go fishing.) Janet left on Sunday morning to set up camp at Tyson Wells in Quartzsite, where she’ll be selling her artwork for the next three weeks. I moved Lily Rose, my mobile jewelry shop, over to my Tyson Wells spot yesterday afternoon. I toyed with moving T2, my camper, over there later in the day but decided I wanted one more night along the river. I admit that I was thinking a lot about Penny, who can be off-leash here. Once we get to Quartzsite, she’ll need to be tied up whenever we’re around other people. The Canadians, of course, are still here and will remain a few weeks after I’m gone.

After doing my last power walk along the levee road and driving down as far as what we call “Janet’s Camp” — maybe 6 miles south? — to see who was camping down along the way, I came back to my much smaller campsite community and sent up my drone for a few late afternoon shots. Here they are.

Campsite Looking West
Here’s a shot of my campsite looking west. In this shot, you can see my path to the levee road and the channel coming in from the river. You can also see the backwater channel on the other side of the road from our site and the island it makes. While everything looks pretty flat in this shot, I’m about 10 feet above the river/channel average level and another 5 to 10 feet below the level of the levee road.

Levee Road
Here’s a shot of the backwater channel south of ours, on the other side of the road with the southern tip of its island. I see here that the opening to the river is pretty much dried up. That huge sandbar would be covered with water when they release enough from Parker and Palo Verde Dams, but right now it looks as if you could walk right down it, wade across the channel, and step into California. The levee road runs in an arc from the right side of the shot to the center. To the end, it’s just 1/2 mile from our camp, making a nice, brisk one-mile round trip walk.

Two Channels
This shot is looking northeast from where the road from our camp makes the turn onto the levee road. You can see the narrow entrance to our backwater channel from the river on the left. Those folks camped on the left are only a few hundred yards from us by air but several miles away by road. The white van on the road belongs to Steve, who had come to go fishing with the Canadians; they’re on their way back here.

Our Camp
Here’s another look at our camp from the air, this time from the west. You can see the top of T2 (my truck camper); my truck is hidden by the tall bamboo. On the Canadian’s side of camp, you can see their fifth wheel and truck, as well as Steve’s van, which has just arrived. If you’ve got really sharp eyes, you can see Penny chasing the van.

I feel extremely lucky to have arrived at this camp shortly after the previous occupants left. This site is one of the best on the river and my personal favorite, mostly because of the long backwater channel for paddling — it goes two miles north, which is almost all the way to the freeway — the privacy, and the relative proximity to pavement (only three miles). I know for a fact that when I leave on Monday, my spot will be taken within two hours.

I’m sad to say goodbye to this camp, but it’s time to move on.