Snowbirding 2021: My Travels with Bill

I make a new friend who is a real pleasure to travel with.

How many people have told me that I’ll meet someone interesting when I least expect it? Too many to count. And all of them were right.

I was camped along the Colorado River south of Ehrenberg, AZ, with my friend Janet in November when an ATV with two men on it rolled into camp. They asked who owned the truck — pointing at my truck — and I stepped forward. It seemed that one of them had gotten his Mercedes Sprinter van stuck in the sand not far from our site. Could I use my 4WD pickup to pull him out?

And that’s how I met Bill, a retired pilot who spends much of his time bumming around the west in his van. He climbed into my truck and rode back to his van with me, where I surveyed the situation. One of his back wheels was deep in the sand.

We chatted, unable to do anything without a tow strap or chain. (I’ve since bought one.) That’s when I learned he was a pilot and, like me, had his eye on a tug-style boat for cruising Puget Sound and beyond. Those were only two of many similarities between us, as I’d learn in the weeks and months to come.

The owner of the ATV, Dean, camps frequently along the river. While we were chatting, he drove around some more until he found someone with a tow chain. He brought a few supervisors with a long, thick chain back to where Bill’s van was stuck. I put my truck into 4L, locked the hubs, and backed into where he was stuck, stopping when I was close enough for the guys to hook up the chains. Bill climbed into his van and backed up out of the sand with my truck tugging him most of the way. Mission accomplished.

I waited while they loosened the chain, invited Bill to join us for our nightly campfire, and climbed back into my truck for a return to camp.

-o-

Bill didn’t show up for the campfire, but he did stop by in the morning. We chatted for a while. He kept saying he was on his way to Los Angeles and couldn’t stay long, but we kept chatting. Finally, he left us for his trip west, telling me that he’d try to come back in December, after taking care of an early Christmas and a bunch of family stuff in Oregon.

Over the next month or so, we occasionally exchanged texts.

He returned to my camp the day after Christmas. Janet had left that morning and I’d reconfigured my camp to bring my mobile workshop closer to my camper. Bill pulled in late in the afternoon, with groceries for dinner. We chatted the rest of the afternoon, though dinner, and then around the campfire.

In the morning, he joined me and my pups for our morning walk. We chatted the rest of the day away. I was floored by how much we had in common. Hell, he even had the same immersion coffee maker I have and use for camping. I don’t know anyone else who has one of those.

We walked again the next morning. And then he left.

-o-

About a week later, after exchanging a few text messages, I met up with him in California for a day trip to Salton Sea and Slab City in my truck.

Bombay Beach
How can I not like someone who will accompany me to a weird place like Bombay Beach on the Salton Sea?

The following week, he was back in my camp for two more nights. The first day, we drove out in my truck to a campground he likes in California and did some hiking out there. On the way back, we stopped so I could capture some video footage of a helicopter delivering men and equipment to power line towers; it was a real pleasure not to be rushed. The second day, we went to Cibola National Wildlife Preserve so I could show him the sandhill cranes out there. Along the way, we explored some potential camping areas.

Deserted Cabin
We did some hiking out by Cottonwood Springs, a campground he likes south of Desert Center, CA. Along the way, we found this deserted cabin which was obviously being maintained by a local group of people who care about historic buildings.

Then he was gone again.

-o-

Around the end of January, I finally packed up my campsite and headed out. I had some visiting to do before I made my way back home.

Up until that point, it had been a remarkably mild winter at home and, with my only scheduled art show cancelled due to COVID, I didn’t have much of a reason to stay in Arizona. After two and a half months living in a dusty environment, hauling my own water, and having to drive on 8 miles of gravel to buy a quart of milk, I was starting to think long and hard about a soak in my bathtub and the luxury of my dishwasher, washer, and dryer — none of which required a water transfer pump to use.

Clean Rig
Here’s my traveling rig, emerging from the truck wash where I got everything washed before hitting the road.

I spent one night in a 55+ RV park in Brenda, AZ, mostly so I could dump my tanks, fill up with fresh water, do some laundry, and take a good, hot shower. Then I dropped off my utility trailer with a friend in Wickenburg and headed south to Laveen to visit some friends there. From there, I went to Gilbert to stay with some other friends, enjoying the luxury of a king size bed and super fast Internet in their guest room. I’d had plans to try to find new wholesale accounts for my jewelry in the Phoenix area, but didn’t do any of that. Instead, I hung out with my friends, got my pups groomed, dyed my hair, did some shopping, and relaxed.

On Thursday, February 4, I had my annual flight physical and eye exam scheduled in North Phoenix. I said goodbye to my friends in Gilbert and headed north for those appointments. I spent that night in the desert just north of Lake Pleasant.

Lake Pleasant View
Here’s the view from my camper for the one night I spent north of Lake Pleasant.

I thought long and hard about my travel plans there. The weather at home was turning cold with snow in the forecast. I wasn’t in a hurry to get home anymore, but I didn’t feel like going up to Sedona and Prescott as I’d originally planned. I decided to go back to Wickenburg, fetch my utility trailer, spend a few days at Vulture Peak, and then head north. Death Valley might make a good interim destination.

-o-

But while I’d been traveling around, I’d also been texting back and forth with Bill. I’d told him about the hot spring north of Willow Beach on the Colorado River and he was interested in going to see it with me. We’d meet up somewhere, camp overnight at Willow Beach, and split the cost of a boat rental for a day at the hot springs.

The plan came together quickly after that.

He showed up at Vulture Peak. We spent two nights there, hiking part of Vulture Peak Trail in the middle day and enjoying campfires at night.

Vulture Peak Camp
I got my usual campsite at Vulture Peak and Bill pulled in right behind my trailer for the two nights we were there. For some reason, however — maybe the weekend? — the campsite had a lot of foot traffic wandering through, which made it a lot less pleasant than usual. I was glad to leave on Sunday.

We left Wickenburg on Super Bowl Sunday, heading north to Kingman for the night so Bill could lock in some fast Internet for the game. We spent the night parked side-by-side in a Cracker Barrel parking lot. (Beats Walmart.)

On Monday, morning, we left Kingman with a stop at the Kingman Turquoise shop along the way. I went in and spent way too much money on way more turquoise stones and beads than I should have. I have a design idea for a really interesting piece…

Kingman Turquoise
The Kingman Turquoise shop just north of Kingman, AZ, is like a candy store for jewelry makers who use turquoise. Bring your credit card.

He followed me from there to Willow Beach on the Colorado River, where we parked my trailer in a lot and then squeezed into a shared campsite, taking advantage of the discount he got with his lifetime National Parks pass.

Sunset at Willow Beach
Willow Beach’s sunset did not disappoint us.

Hot Springs
Tuesday morning at the hot spring. It was more crowded later in the day. I blogged about this hot spring here.

In the morning, we picked up a small motorboat and, with my pups, headed up the river. We spent at least four hours at the hot springs, dipping and soaking in the various tubs while other hikers came and went.

That evening, Bill led the way to a campsite he knew of up in the Eldorado Mountains south of Boulder City. It was a cool spot off a seldom-used road. I had great views down at the lights in Boulder City and Railroad Pass, with the glow of Las Vegas far in the distance.

In the morning, we climbed into his van for a trip farther down the road to visit the ghost town of Nelson. The two of us spent nearly an hour walking around the remains of old cars and equipment in the desert, snapping pictures everywhere.

Nelson
Here’s the museum/gift shop in the ghost town of Nelson. For just $1/person, you can wander around and shoot photos of the multitude of old cars and equipment parked around the yard.

On Wednesday, we went into Las Vegas to visit an old friend of mine from Wickenburg. I was glad to see Jim as active as ever at age 81, still working at the company he built years ago when I first met him, still coming up with unique solutions for new customers. Jim and Bill really hit it off; Bill grilled him about batteries and Jim had all the answers.

From Vegas, we continued on to Tecopa, where Bill wanted to show me a hot springs resort he knew. We originally signed up for two campsites for two nights but wound up taking advantage of a couple’s special that gave us sites for two for a week for only $250. We stayed six nights. I slid my camper off my truck while we were there so we could get around without taking one of our “houses” with us.

It was a great week. On most days, we soaked in a private tub in the morning before breakfast, then again in the afternoon before dinner and again in the evening before bed. The water was hot and soft and made my skin feel great. During the day, we’d choose a destination: Ibex Dunes and Sarasota Springs in Death Valley for two hikes, Shohone for a hike, China Date Ranch (twice) for hikes, Pahrump for a propane refill and some shopping. We spent one windy day in my rig just taking it easy, enjoying each other’s company.

China Date Ranch
The Amaragosa Trail hike from China Date Ranch takes you into the riverbed, where you can still see traces of the railroad that ran there years ago.

At Badwater
Here’s a real tourist shot at Badwater; Bill pointed out the Sea Level sign high on the cliff face beyond my rig.

From Tecopa, we headed into Death Valley, coming in through the Shoshone entrance and driving up the length of the park from the Ashford Mills ruins — which I’d last seen surrounded by yellow wildflowers during a super bloom a few years ago — and past Badwater, with a quick stop in Furnace Creek before driving the rest of the way up to Mesquite Springs. Bill had never been that far north in the park and was pleased by the dark, quiet night sky and uncrowded campground.

The next morning, Wednesday, we hiked around Ubehebe Crater in a howling wind. It was only a mile and a half, but there was a considerable climb early in the hike and lots of places to stop and look into smaller craters nearby. Back at camp, we took the rest of the day off.

Ubehebe Crater
Here’s a shot of Ubehebe Crater from the highest point on its rim. Normally, this hike might be very pleasant, but with a stiff wind, I was glad I’d bundled up.

On Thursday, the day I’m writing this, we decided to move on. Bill wanted to visit some friends in Los Angeles before he headed back to Oregon to take care of some family things. I had developed a sore toe that made long hikes painful. And although I had no idea what the weather was at home, I knew I should be on my way.

Darwin Falls
Darwin Falls is a surprising sight in the desert — and just a mile from the trailhead on a relatively easy path.

But rather than just part company, we decided on one more hike: a walk to Darwin Falls, a little-known spring-fed waterfall in Death Valley. I parked my rig at the Panamint Springs campground and he drove us to the trailhead in his van. We did the two-mile round-trip hike in about 90 minutes, stopping for about 20 minutes in the cool shade of the slot canyon at the falls before coming back.

Afterward, Bill drove me back to Panamint Springs and spent a little more time with me and my pups before saying goodbye and heading out. I was sad to see him go — I really had enjoyed our time together — but he’s already promised to come visit me at home. I’m looking forward to that.

-o-

Throughout all of our time together, I continued to be amazed at how much we thought alike and how compatible we were. I suspect he was, too.

We talked about everything — and I really do mean everything — and pretty much agreed on most of it. Better yet, he treated me like an intelligent adult. He was kind and generous and really seemed to want to hear my opinion of the things we talked about. It was a real intellectual treat for me. Like me, he knows a little about a lot of things and a lot about a few. Like me, he has a natural curiosity about things he hears about. I could — and did! — learn from him and he could — and did? — learn from me.

There’s more, but I won’t go into it here. After all, I don’t share every aspect of my life, despite what readers may think.

Anyway, the two weeks I spent with Bill will give me plenty to think about as I begin to gear up for the upcoming cherry season and start to plan my retirement. I’ve had other plans in the works for a while and he’s given me the push I need to start making things happen to reach new goals.

Meanwhile, I’m looking forward to more travels with Bill in the future.

Helicopter Power Line Work

A video from the Flying M Air YouTube channel.

The title and narration pretty much says it all. We were driving across the desert and spotted some helicopter activity near some power lines. We found a road that took us right to the action. (BTW, This is the kind of thing you can see when you shut off the TV/video game/Internet and get out a little.)

I found this work fascinating and I think that if I were alone I would have captured hours of footage. But I think this taste from two angles is more than enough.

Anyone know what those line guys make? I sure hope it’s a lot!

I do know the name of the company performing this work, but have decided not to release it. Why? Well although I’m sure they were following all safety precautions and their pilots were properly trained for the work — you don’t get a job like this by being a fly-by-night operator — there’s always ONE viewer who finds something to complain about and I’m not going to help them cause trouble for these folks. Can’t you just sit back, watch, and be amazed at the things we can do?

Comments? Leave them below. I hope you enjoyed this; I’ll try to release other new content soon.

Snowbirding 2021: A Visit to Slab City

I finally get to see a place I’ve heard about numerous times and always wondered about.

I can’t remember exactly when I heard about Slab City, CA. I suspect it was about five years ago when I started visiting the Holtville Hot Springs and listening to the other RVers talk there about free places to camp.

Slab City on Wikipedia

Per Wikipedia, Slab City,

also called The Slabs, is an unincorporated, off-the-grid squatter community consisting largely of snowbirds in the Salton Trough area of the Sonoran Desert, in Imperial County, California. It took its name from concrete slabs that remained after the World War II Marine Corps Camp Dunlap training camp was torn down. Slab city is known for lifestyle that contradicts ordinary civilized lifestyle.

The rest of the Wikipedia entry is extremely informative (and I encourage you to read it), but appears to have been written mostly around 1990 and then edited to add information in 2020. (The editor in me would love to go into that entry and clean it up, but I’ll let experts tackle it.) There are photos, but I suspected that none would do it justice and I wound up being right.

The Trip

I’ve been wanting to check it out for myself for a few years. I decided to make it one of my goals for this year. But I wasn’t interested in dragging all my RVing gear out there, possibly to find a place where I wouldn’t want to camp. I wanted to make it a day trip from my campsite on the Arizona side of the Colorado River. It would be a roughly 2-1/2 hour drive each way.

Sometimes the only thing that prevents me from doing something I genuinely do want to do is motivation. I lacked motivation until this week. That’s when I happened to mention it to a new friend of mine, Bill, who is a full-time RVer. He very unexpectedly said he was interested in checking it out, too. And since he was camped out nearly halfway between my site and Slab City, it made sense for me to pick him up along the way if we did it before he moved on.

I set the date for Wednesday, which was the day after we spoke about it. There was a big holiday weekend coming up and I wanted to stick around near camp. A lot of crazies come out here with their off-road vehicles and I just felt the need to stay where I could keep an eye on things. I’m not a big fan of going out on weekends anyway, mostly because of the greater potential for crowds at my destination. One of the great things about my lifestyle is that I can go places midweek, when there are fewer people around.

That’s why I was in my truck at 8 AM on Wednesday morning with my pups, headed away from camp. I wanted to fill my truck with fuel before going into California — diesel (and other fuel, I guess) is about $1 cheaper per gallon in Arizona than California and with a 30 gallon tank that was about half full, that difference quickly turned into lunch money. I drove up to my favorite cheap gas station on my side of the river, topped off the tank, bought a pack of Oreos with a pint of milk, and set off westbound on I-10.

I was meeting Bill at Desert Center, a little over an hour west of the Colorado River. There was very little traffic, and I could cruise at or around the speed limit of 70 MPH. The stretch of I-10 between Blythe, CA on the Colorado River and Desert Center is pretty dull. A lot of empty desert, some of which has been recently filled in with huge solar energy farms. I listened to an audio book along the way and the time passed quickly. I got off the exit and rolled into the armpit of California that is the town of Desert Center.

Desert Center
Shot from a trash-strewn vacant lot near the I-10 freeway exit, this view of Desert Center, CA is what greets folks who go there.

I cannot begin to describe how trashy the place is. It’s mostly empty lots and deserted, vandalized, graffiti-painted buildings. There’s trash and broken glass everywhere. A few semis with trailers were parked in various places, engines running; I guess this is an overnight stop for some truckers. I didn’t see any sign of current habitation, which is probably a good thing. I couldn’t imagine anyone actually living there.

I arrived early, of course, and had to wait for Bill, which I didn’t mind. I let the pups out to walk around the sandy lot I’d parked in and had to follow them around to make sure they didn’t step in or try to eat anything disgusting. We wound up waiting in the truck, windows open on the warm morning. But the more I looked around, I the less I liked the idea of Bill parking his custom Mercedes Sprinter van anywhere in the area for the day.

I told him that when he arrived. He looked around and agreed. He told me it had been broken into before and it was very upsetting.

I suggested Chiriaco Summit, a busier exit on the freeway that actually had businesses in operation. It was 19 miles farther in the direction we had to go anyway. He agreed and followed me.

I knew Chiriaco Summit from flying into its tiny airport, visiting the Patton Tank Museum there, and stopping for a bite to eat at Foster’s Freeze. As I pulled in, I realized that the little “town” had grown. There were additional restaurants and a handful of other businesses. Foster’s was now inside the big gas station. There was plenty of parking that would be out of the way yet close enough to activity to not draw attention. The town was all business and neat — a huge difference from Desert Center.

He parked, we went inside the gas station to use the restroom, and Bill bought a cup of coffee for the road. Then we were on our way.

I missed the exit for Box Canyon Road mostly because I was looking north. I was distracted by the Cottonwood Springs Road entrance into Joshua Tree National Park, with lots of RVs camping out in the desert, likely just outside of park boundaries. I never realized there was a road that went south there until I’d passed the exit. Duh. The next exit was six miles west and I made my U-turn there, thus adding 12 miles to the drive.

Box Canyon Road is a great drive on a decently paved road down a wide canyon that I would not want to be stuck in during heavy rain. There were a few folks camped out in there and a few others driving the same direction we were. After a while coasting downhill on the gently curving road, we got a glimpse of the Salton Sea stretched out before us in the distance. Then the winding canyon road leveled out and opened into blocks of farmland.

We saw some very neglected grape vines, lemon trees, pepper plants ready to be harvested, and a bunch of other veggies we couldn’t easily identify. GoogleMaps directed us to make a few turns before dumping us on Route 111, Grapefruit Boulevard. It should have been called Palm Highway there because it was mostly lined with date palms for a while. Then those ended abruptly and we were in the mostly barren desert on the east shore of Salton Sea.

This is not an attractive area of desert. There isn’t much vegetation and anything that was planted and neglected — think mostly palm trees — are dead or dying. Yes, the Salton Sea sparkles just off to the west and there are snow-capped mountains beyond Palm Springs even farther west than that. But the terrain is mostly a light tan color with the occasional tiny settlement, park, or abandoned, vandalized, and grafittied building hinting at past when the area had something to brag about.

Bombay Beach

Slab City turned out to be a lot farther south than I thought. Along the way we passed the Salton Sea State Park and its campgrounds, which turned out to be closed for COVID, and a settlement boasting hot springs off to the east.

Bombay Beach Art
Is this the “Cessna Art” I was supposed to find at Bombay Beach? Is this a Cessna?

We eventually reached Bombay Beach, 223 feet below sea level, with a population 415. I’d been there before and hadn’t been impressed, but a Twitter friend urged me to revisit it, telling me there was some sort of Cessna artwork I needed to see. We drove through, spending a brief time on the sea side of the dike wall before completing a circle of the town. This sentence from Wikipedia sums it up perfectly:

A visitor in 2019 wrote that there were many “discarded homes and trailers long-since abandoned” and that many of the buildings were “windowless husks blanketed in graffiti, surrounded by broken furniture and rubble.”

Basically, the place looks like the ruins of a very poor community, long since vandalized, with a handful of occupied homes and a mildly interesting collection of very large artwork made mostly from junk. It’s a depressing place and I honestly can’t imagine what it must be like to live there.

We got back on the road and continued south.

Slab City

Welcome to Slab City
The obligatory photo of the Slab City Welcome sign.

The turn for Slab City was the Main Street for Niland, CA. Although I’d expected it to be a sort of remote place up in the foothills of the mountains beyond, it was actually spread out just a few miles from town. The absolute junkiness of the place hit me immediately. There were all kinds of broken and abandoned RVs and other vehicles, as well as broken and occupied RVs and other vehicles. The more we drove the more trash and decrepitude we saw.

Truck at Salvation Mountain
Part of the art (or “art”) installation at Salvation Mountain.

Salvation Mountain, a man-made hill painted with latex paint which had been the life’s work of a deceased resident, was the first of the art installations. Other art was more like “art.” I drove slowly through the area on what seemed like a main road while we stared at the mess around us. Yes, people lived there. There were RVs and mobile homes and shacks and even a few decent buildings. There were street signs and house numbers. There were campgrounds, one of which was hosting one of those mega-motorhomes that sell for about $750K. There was a library that was closed. There was a business at East Jesus that was closed. There was a property that used the burned out shells of RVs as a sort of fence line. The farther we got from the main area of the community, the more trash there was scattered out in the desert.

Salvation Mountain
Salvation Mountain is the primary point of interest in Slab City. Read about it on Wikipedia.

East Jesus Plane Art
A business at the end of the road to East Jesus was closed due to COVID.

I said I’d take pictures, but I took very few. The above shots are about it. Honestly, there wasn’t much I wanted a picture of.

We followed a sign for Slab LOW, not knowing what it was, and eventually arrived there. It looked like a camping area with a few buildings. Signs said they welcomed members of WIN, LOW, and Escapees — three RVer clubs. (I belong to WIN, Bill belongs to Escapees.) I stopped the truck and we got out to stretch our legs and let the pups run around. There was a single motorhome parked there and while we gave the dogs water — Rosie had puked in the truck; she still gets carsick once in a while — a man came out. Soon we were chatting with him. He lived there full time. He said the place we were at was closing and relocating elsewhere. He told us where but we never found it. Did it matter? No.

There were actually quite a few people living in the area — even if just temporarily. It looked to me as if you could camp for any length of time just about anywhere. But the vibe was about the same — at least to me — as it was at Bombay Beach. It was the ruins of something and no amount of art or “art” could hide it. Squatting on land that no one cared about was a cheap and easy way to live, but I know I could never live like that. Honestly, I’d have trouble even spending a day or two there. Too much trash. A cleanup crew could spend a year filling 30-gallon trash bags and no one would know the difference.

We didn’t stay long. And I have to admit that although Slab City sort of met my expectations, I was disappointed. I was hoping it was something better. Something more interesting. Something I’d like to stay and explore. It wasn’t. It was just a squatter community out in the desert, surrounded by decades of trash.

Lunch, the Fountain of Youth, and a Walk on the Beach

We stopped for lunch in Niland. I’d wanted very badly to go to the Oasis Date Ranch for one of their excellent hamburgers with dates on it but their cafe was closed due to COVID. The Buckshot Cafe in Niland served Mexican and American food. The restaurant itself was closed, but they were taking to-go orders through one of the front windows. We each ordered a chicken torta and wound up eating it in the back of my truck, feeding the dogs nacho chips and french fries.

Back on the road, we turned in at the sign for the Fountain of Youth RV Resort and Spa. The WIN RV group I belong to had camped there for a week in early November, before I headed south. I wanted to see what it was like. It was a typical middle-of-the-desert RV park, filled with mobile homes, park models, and regular RVs. There was a pool, a hot spring fed spa, shuffleboard, a restaurant, and more. Everyone we saw was older than we were except the kid at the gate. The campsites were close together and there were a lot of vacancies. No Canadians this year.

We checked out another RV resort with spa nearby. It was a lot smaller, more casual, and cheaper. Bill was disappointed that although they offered day use options for the spa facilities, clothing was required.

Our last stop in the valley was at a campground along the shore of Salton Sea. I’d stayed there about four years before. I wanted to show Bill the beach, which had been covered with giant barnacles and dead fish back then. The campground was closed, but we parked across the road and walked over. We climbed down an embankment and walked right up to the short. The barnacles were smaller and there were no dead fish.

Salton Sea Beach
The beach at Salton Sea. Palm Springs lies at the base of the snow-capped mountain dead center in this shot.

The Drive Back to Camp

Bill used a map app on his phone to guide me back to Box Canyon Road and we climbed up the wide canyon to the I-10 freeway. From there, it was a short drive to Chiriaco Summit. I took my pups for a quick walk with Bill. Then we said our goodbyes and he left to go to camp while I went into Foster’s Freeze for a hot fudge sundae.

I passed Bill on the road right before reaching Desert Center. He’d told me his campsite south of there was dead quiet and pitch black dark. Sounded good to me. My site would not be quiet with all the yahoos in from Phoenix with their ATVs for the long weekend, but I had a good, private camp and wasn’t ready to move. Yet.

I finished listening to the recorded book I’d been listening to along the way. I got back to camp just as the sun set over California.

If I had a bucket list, I could cross off Slab City.