Snowbirding 2020: The Drive Plan

Posted on November 30, 2019 by Maria Langer

Another trip down an all-too-familiar route.

Posts in this series:
– The Big Plan
– The Drive Plan

On Tuesday, I plan to start by drive to — of all places — Wickenburg, AZ. It’s a drive I’ve taken many times. After all, I started spending my summers up here in Washington in 2008, the year I got my first cherry drying gig. Back in those days, I’d make two drives north in the spring — one in my helicopter and a second in a truck pulling a trailer to live in. Then, at the end of the season, I’d make two drives home to get everything back to my Wickenburg hangar.

The Preferred Route

During those years, I tried all kinds of routes north or south and I discovered the one truth about the drive: the shortest route involves route 93 between Wickenburg and Twin Falls, ID and I-84 between Twin Falls and the Tri-Cities area of Washington. Ask Google Maps — it’ll tell you. And even if you don’t believe it, I can confirm in. I’ve driven just about every other possible route.

Google Maps knows the fastest routes. This map even shows the route 6 shortcut.

I-84 is a freeway that goes from Portland to Salt Lake City, leaving the relatively flat land of eastern Washington to climb the Green Mountains east of Pendleton, OR (of blanket fame) before descending southeast bound into the Boise, ID area and crossing rolling prairie land. The terrain climbs and descends again and again as I head south on the two-lane route 93 from Twin Falls, which I mostly stick to, taking advantage of a shortcut on route 6 between Ely and Crystal Springs, NV.

Route 93 is one of those remote roads that frighten city people. Towns aren’t much more than a handful of homes — if that. Gas stations are few and far between. If you miss a fuel stop you could be in serious trouble, waiting hours for the AAA guy to bring you five gallons. I’ve never run out of fuel on this route, but I’ve had more than a few close calls. If diesel wasn’t so damn stinky, I’d bring along a spare 5 gallons just in case.

Once I get to I-15, I’m back on the freeway and in very familiar area just outside of Las Vegas. Then, near Boulder City, NV, I leave freeways behind again for the long drive down route 93 to Kingman, a short stint on I-40, and more route 93 all the way down to Wickenburg. It’s 1,280 miles and should take about 20 hours with fuel stops if I stick to the speed limit — which I do when I’m towing these days. I used to be able to do it all in two days, with Jackpot, NV on Idaho’s border as my preferred overnight stop. That’s where I’d sleep in my RV in the truck parking lot outside of Cactus Pete’s casino. When the trip north stretched to three days due to weather or a late start or, in one case, illness, I’d try other overnight stops including a lakeside campsite at Pahranagat National Wildlife Refuge just south of Alamo, NV; a casino parking lot in West Wendover, NV; a campsite at Farewell Bend State Recreation area near Huntington, OR; or a state park campground somewhere in the Green Mountains. I’m not opposed to overnighting in a Walmart parking lot, but I’d prefer not to.

The Challenge of Driving When Days are Short

Driving south in late autumn is a whole different story. I can’t do it in two days mostly because I prefer not to travel in the dark. That means it’s always three days and I need two stops along the way. So not only do I have to plan my route around the weather, but I should have a damn good idea of where I’m going to stop along the way to make cold weather camping bearable.

And that’s the challenge. My truck camper is not winterized and I don’t want its pipes to freeze. I also don’t want to worry about running out of battery power at night when the heater would likely run nonstop to keep the poorly insulated camper warm enough for me to sleep. The answer is to find a campground with a power hookup that’s right on my route, close enough to reach before it gets dark.

I found such a place last year: the tiny Three Island Crossing State Park in Glenns Ferry, ID. Although the water is turned off in this campground and the bathrooms are closed and locked, the power is still turned on and available. I can pull into a campsite, plug in, and use my quiet electric heater to keep the camper warm all night. I get the added benefit of being able to use my microwave to heat up some dinner and my electric coffee maker to make coffee in the morning. The forecast says Tuesday night’s low will be 25°F so I really will appreciate that electric hookup.

Three Island Crossing is 491 miles from Malaga and will take about 8 hours to get to with one fuel stop along the way. That means that if I leave here at 7 AM sharp, I’ll get there by 4 PM local time. Sunset there will be around 5 PM. I arrived after dark last year and left in the morning before sunrise so I never got a chance to actually see the place. It would be nice to see it this year. I plan on hitting the road long before the 8 AM sunrise the next morning.

The Las Vegas Stop

My next stop is a no-brainer of sorts: Las Vegas, NV. If you think it’s weird camping in Las Vegas, you’re right. It is.

I stay at the KOA at Sam’s Town. In general, I dislike KOAs — they’re glorified parking lots. But this isn’t a camping trip. It’s an overnight stop before I’ll be spending weeks off the grid. I found the KOA years ago and have been staying there every trip south since. I get a full hookup site, plug in, and get a good night’s sleep. In the morning, I use the clean, warm, completely underutilized shower facilities to get a good, long, hot shower. Then I top off my water tanks and dump my black and gray water. If I need propane, I buy it there and the attendant helps me load it back into the compartment where the tanks go. There’s Sam’s Town next door if I want a good dinner or breakfast that I don’t have to cook. There’s a Walmart across the street if I want to stock up on anything I might have trouble finding in the weeks to come. And if I get there early enough, I can take a free shuttle or an Uber out to the strip to see what’s changed since my last visit. I admit that the chances of that happening are minimal; the 555 mile drive will take about 9 hours with fuel stops and I’ll likely be exhausted after two full days on the road.

This screenshot from an email confirmation is what prompted this blog post. I love the way KOA refers to a campground in Las Vegas as “the great outdoors.” 🙄

This particular stop — especially this year — will be my most expensive overnight stop this year, coming in at just about $55 for the night. Ouch. The reason it’s so costly: it’s not just my truck camper this year. I’ll be pulling my cargo trailer, which makes my rig a lot longer than it normally would be and really encourages me to find a pull-through spot. (Backing a trailer is hard enough when you can see it but it’s nearly impossible when a truck camper hides it from view.) Because most of the folks who stay at that KOA are driving big rigs — hence the underutilized shower facilities — all of the smaller pull-throughs are taken. The only one available was a 72-foot long spot. I shouldn’t have any trouble fitting my roughly 40-foot total length rig into it, but it’ll cost me. Big spots cost big money.

The high cost also encourages me to stay just one night when I might have stayed two. I haven’t really enjoyed a trip to Vegas in a while. I suppose I’ll have to wait for the next time HeliExpo comes to town.

The Home Stretch

The rest of the drive is very familiar. As I write this, I’m planning a stop in Wickenburg where I might be participating in a holiday art show. It’s still unclear on whether they have room for me; I applied late (as usual). If I’m in, I go to Wickenburg. If I’m not in, I might go straight down to our usual camping area on the Colorado River. That means taking route 95 south from Vegas, all the way into California at I-10 or possibly crossing the river at I-40 and heading south from Lake Havasu. I’ve gone both ways and they both work.

Either way, it’s a short travel day with less than 300 miles to cover so I’ll definitely get to my destination.

And by that time, I should be back in t-shirt weather with very few worries about keeping my camper from freezing overnight.

That’s the plan. Stay tuned to see if I stick to it.

Snowbirding 2020: The Big Plan

Posted on November 27, 2019 by Maria Langer

I prepare for my annual migration south, this time with a mission.

Posts in this series:
– The Big Plan
– The Drive Plan

This week I’m busy packing for my annual 3-month journey to points south. That means not only packing my truck and camper for the 1200-mile drive to central Arizona, but prepping my new used 12-foot cargo trailer to haul gear and work as my mobile jewelry shop. If I do everything right — and can fit everything I need into my limited storage space — I’ll have a comfortable and productive trip where I can enjoy warm weather and abundant sunshine and get to see a lot of old friends.

Trailer Inside
Here’s the inside of my trailer as I pack it. The drawers will hold materials and tools for making jewelry. The shelves in back are for my display tables, solar panels, and other necessities.

This year is different from other years, though. This year I have a mission — I plan on seeing if I can do well enough selling my jewelry at art shows to continue doing art shows. It’s a sort of make-or-break run at what could be my fourth career.

And no — despite the rumors being spread around by one of my friends (who I really do need to talk to) — I have no intention of giving up flying any time soon. But let’s be real: I can’t fly forever. It would be nice to have another career to fall back on when the time comes that I can’t make a living as a pilot anymore. If you look back, you’ll realize that I set up my flying career long before my writing career faded — and that was a very fortunate thing for me. And I didn’t exactly dive into my writing career before setting the stage during my finance career.

The Shows

So my goal this winter is to see how many shows I can do and how much money I can net doing them.

That said, I applied for ten shows covering a total of 31 days from late November through February. I was accepted to eight of them covering a total of 28 days. Of those, I accepted seven for the same 28 days. (It’s pretty common to apply to multiple shows at the same time in case you don’t get into one; I actually got accepted to two on the same weekend.) Although most of the shows are on weekends, two of them are 10 days each; for one of those shows, I’ll actually be spending 3 days at another show. Sounds confusing? It is. You can see my schedule here.

I also applied for another show in February and two more in March; I haven’t heard whether I’m in or out of any of them. I’m hoping I get the two March shows, which are both in California. It’ll give me an excuse to visit some folks I know there on my way home. If I don’t get them, I’ll apply for another show in Washington, much closer to home.

My two long January shows are weird. They’re in Quartzsite at a venue where vendors camp with their booths. I have a tiny space there to keep my costs low and I’m not quite sure that everything will fit. But the benefit is that I won’t have to move for nearly four weeks and I’ll have a full hookup for my RV that whole time. I don’t expect to sell much there — did I mention that it was a weird venue? — but I’ll be staying near friends and close to where I can stock up on stones and other supplies. Oddly, I like Quartzsite in January.

Tyson Wells and RV Show
Here’s a 2018 drone shot of Tyson Wells and the RV show across the street. I’ll be one of the vendors camped out this year for about four weeks.

Some R&R

Of course, the first half of the trip will have lots of leisure time. Although I may start with a short show in Wickenburg, I’ll be heading out to the River after that. My friend Janet and I camp out there every December and it seems that we’re getting an earlier start every year. I’m hoping to get a good site where we can camp right on the river. My kayak and fishing pole are already packed.

This is the campsite Janet and I shared in 2017 — the year I brought my boat with me. We were there just two weeks.

I do have a mid-December show in Phoenix to attend; I’m planning on leaving my rig at the campsite with Janet and spend the weekend at a friend’s place in Gilbert. I might even coax him out to the river for a few days. We’ll see.

And I have to admit that I’m not a 9 to 5 vendor in Quartzsite, either. Although I’m open on weekends, I tend to goof off during the week, going out on photo or shopping trips in the morning and opening my booth around lunchtime. I’m sure Janet and I will play hooky at least once for a trip out to the river, too.

The Tucson Trip

After January in Quartzsite — and another show in Gilbert that I might or might not get into — I’ll go down to Tucson for about a week. I’ve signed up for four jewelry making courses with Vivi Magoo. I’m very interested in learning new things that can expand my capabilities. The classes I signed up for should do that.

I was in Tucson for just three days last year and wound up parking with my camper in casino parking lots at night. This time, I booked a week in a campground in town. I’m looking forward to being able to drop my camper while I take my classes, check out the rock shows that will be all over the city, and maybe do one or two day trips to Saguaro National Monument and the Pima Air Museum.

This is the second vacation portion of my trip, but I plan to keep pretty darn busy.

Finishing Up

The second half of February has me in two weekend-long shows in the Phoenix area. I’ve done both shows before and they were both worthwhile for me.

And that’s all I’ve got booked.

I did apply for two California shows — one in Palm Springs and the other in Borrego Springs. I applied kind of late for the Borrego Spring show last year and didn’t get in. My friend Janet did, however, and since I’d promised her I’d go there with her, we spent a few days before the show hiking among the flowers in a truly amazing superbloom. This year, with luck, we’ll both participate in the show and then I’ll head home up California’s Central Valley.

If I don’t get into either of the California shows, I might make my way home by way of Salt Lake City where I have friends I’d like to visit. Or Reno where I have other friends to visit. I can always find someplace to go or someone to see on my way home.

Prepping for the Trip

So now I’m home with just a few days left to finish packing up for my long trip. I’ll be selling jewelry locally at Pybus Public Market this weekend, so I can’t pack everything yet. But I can pack what I don’t need for that show, which is quite a few things.

Meanwhile, I’m also cleaning my house. My house sitter will be here on Monday and I like to start him off with a sparkling clean place so he rewards me with a sparkling clean place on my return. Whether I return in the beginning of March or the middle of the month depends on whether I get into those two California shows and how much I goof off on my way home. He’s prepared to stay until March month-end if necessary.

And I think that’s what I like most about my life these days. With the exception of about three months in the summer when I’m stuck at home for cherry season, I can make up the rest of the year as I go along. What’s not to like about that?

Picking Up My New Old Trailer

Posted on October 30, 2019 by Maria Langer

I take delivery of a new used cargo trailer for my mobile jewelry shop.

My October trip to Tacoma, which I cover in another blog post, was the first half of a two-part trip. The second half was a stop in Yakima to pick up a trailer I’d seen there back in September. I’d told the owner, a guy named Mike who owned the local Lance dealership, that I’d be there around 11 AM on Monday. It was Sunday afternoon when I finished my business in Tacoma.

Researching the Trip

I’d originally planned to spend another night behind TMAC, but since there was nothing really appealing about the place as a campsite, I figured I get started on my way to Yakima that afternoon and camp along the way.

I did some homework. First, I checked out the most direct route which, I as expected, had me going through Chinook Pass near Mt. Rainier. Chinook is usually the first pass to close every winter. WADOT reported that it was still open with no restrictions. There was a slight chance of snow that day, so I knew I’d have to check again later.

Then I looked for a campsite. I have an app (Ultimate CG) that lists all public land camping areas. I didn’t want to be too close to the pass because I didn’t want to have to run the heater all night with the cooler temperatures at altitude. It took time — a surprising number of campgrounds were already closed for the season. I found a campground near Naches called Cottonwood that was open year-round and picked that as a destination.

After class, I walked Penny, secured loose items in the camper, and climbed into the truck. I checked Chinook Pass again; it was still clear with no restrictions. It was nearly 5 PM when I rolled out of the parking area and started on my trip to a destination 73 miles away.

The Trip to Yakima

It was freeway driving until I got off of Route 18 and headed toward Mt. Rainier. Eventually, I passed through the last town and started climbing on a two-lane road that wound through the forest. Although the weather was overcast and the light was disappointing, I enjoyed views of autumn colors all around me, especially the bright yellow larches. Unfortunately, the road was full of frost heave bumps that forced me to drive 5 to 10 miles below the speed limit. Google Maps kept adjusting my arrival time. When I still had cell service, I asked Siri what time sunset was at Yakima. 6:15, she reported. Google told me that I would not arrive until 6:45 PM.

I passed a few spots where I knew I could find a campsite in the National Forest. I was eager to get over the pass that day in case it snowed overnight. I didn’t want to have to start the next morning by backtracking to a different pass. So I kept going.

Clouds hid Mt. Rainier at a view point I passed. Soon I was climbing up into those clouds. The fog got thick on the narrow road. The pavement was wet. The outside temperature was only 39° then 37°. I slowed down even more. The guy in front of me speeded away and the guy behind me got closer, but there was nowhere to pull over to let him pass.

I didn’t realize I was near the pass until I saw the sign for the parking area for the little lake up there. I couldn’t see the lake or the mountain peaks I knew were beyond it. I couldn’t even see the parking area. Then I drove under the underpass right at the top of the pass. I knew there was a parking area to my right and I pulled into it so the guy behind me could pass. The air was already clearing; the clouds were mostly caught up on the west side of the mountains. The guy passed and I got back on the road, now able to see quite well.

But it was getting late; sunset was only minutes away. I still had 30 miles to go. As I came down the east side of the mountains, I began looking for an alternative place to spend the night. I passed a few closed campgrounds and then came upon an area where gravel roads led off to the left or right. There was a bridge over a creek and a road just before it. I slowed down but was going too fast to stop. It didn’t matter; there were people camping in there anyway. But on the other side of the creek was another turn. I stopped just past it, backed up a little, and drove in.

The Perfect Campsite

There was a flat area just off the road that would have been okay to camp in — if I didn’t mind being right next to the road. But beyond that was a short steep hill with an empty campsite beyond it. I got out to take a look. If I could get the truck up the hill, there was plenty of level space for me. I got back in and drove up the incline. It was no problem for my big 4WD truck. I spotted a perfectly flat area cleared of all forest debris that looked as if it had been occupied by a very large tent. I turned the truck around in the relatively tight space and backed in.

This was, by far, one of the nicest just-off-the-road campsites I’d ever had the pleasure to spend the night in. Level, quiet, private.

With nothing but forest out my back door and a rushing creek off to one side, I had found the perfect campsite. I shut down the truck and got out with Penny. I took a picture of my truck parked against the woods. It reminded me of why I’d bought a truck camper instead of a pull trailer and how glad I was that I did.

It was already getting dark, so we didn’t spend much time exploring. I was hungry and it was getting chilly. We went inside. I turned on the heat, gave Penny some more food, and made myself dinner. With absolutely no cell signal to distract me with web surfing, I spent most of the evening writing this blog post. Then I climbed into bed and read for a while on my iPad. I saw the moon rising through the trees through the window by my head. It was dead quiet.

Later that night, I woke up and spent some time listening to the sound of the rushing creek and watching, through my big plexiglas skylight, the full moon peeking down at me through the trees and clouds. It really was the perfect campsite.

I know it isn’t a great photo, but it was a great moment. The full moon as seen through my camper’s sunroof, poking through scattered clouds and evergreen trees.

Picking Up the Trailer

The American River separated my campsite from the one I’d seen the night before.

The next morning, I made coffee and spent some time at my table writing the first part of this blog post. It didn’t get light until around 7 AM. That’s when I let Penny out and made some breakfast. I took a photo of the creek next to my campsite — actually, the American River — before going back in to do the dishes, strip the bed, and secure loose items for the last day of my trip.

I had a minor “black ice” experience not long after getting on the road. It was about 31°F outside and the road was just wet enough to have a thin layer of ice on it. I was driving along at about the speed limit when I realized that I was sliding ever so slightly. I took my foot off the gas and complete control came back quickly. I drove slower until the temperature topped 35°F.

I had no internet connection so I couldn’t use Google to navigate. It wasn’t a big deal; I figured I could find Yakima easily enough. But I also wanted to check out Cottonwood Campground for future reference. I found it about 20 minutes after leaving the campsite. It was a nice little campground with a few campers in it. I stopped to dump my garbage. If they had a dumping station, I probably would have used that, too.

Internet came back with a flurry of text messages and notifications. I pulled over for a moment to see if I’d missed anything important. Mike had texted me to see if I was still coming that morning. I checked the time and realized I was right on schedule to arrive at 11 AM and texted him to let him know.

Eventually, I rolled up at the Lance dealership and pulled around in back. Mike greeted me and spent some time showing me the trailer again. The only other time I’d seen it, it had been parked in a fenced in area that made it impossible to get the back ramp down. We got the ramp down all the way. I was pleased to see that the door lock was not only there but it actually worked. So did the lock for the front toolbox. The lights inside even worked. It was spotlessly clean — he’d washed it inside and out. He’d even checked the tire pressures and the torque on the lug nuts.

My new old cargo trailer. It’s a 2013 (I think) and in amazing condition. The names painted with the flowers on the front are the original owner’s dogs’ names. (I can’t make this stuff up.) I know it has only one axle and I know a lot of people think two axles is a lot better. But a one axle trailer is easier to maneuver for parking and that’s what I wanted. I also wanted the interior lights and ceiling vent. The only thing I didn’t want was the ramp door — I wanted barn doors in back — but I know ramps are better for resale. I don’t expect to own this more than a few years.

Mike spent a lot of time looking for a spare tire for it. He thought it had one but his co-owner brother said it didn’t. They’d owned the trailer for a long time; Mike had bought it for personal use and never actually used it. In the end, he didn’t find a spare. I was okay with that; I’d buy one at the local tire shop. I’d gotten a good deal and didn’t mind spending a little more to make it perfect. I knew I’d be spending about $300 to install E-Track in it within the next month or so anyway.

We did the paperwork and I gave him a check. Then he guided me to hook it up behind my truck with the camper on top and the extended tow hitch on back. After we had it all hooked up, he stood back to admire it. I think he was tickled that the color of the trailer kind of matched the color of my truck. “Nice looking setup,” he said.

I thanked him and got on my way.

The Trip Home

The trip home went smoothly. The trailer towed like it was nothing — probably because it was empty. My truck, which had been giving me some engine cooling issues on the way to the Seattle side a few days before, didn’t give me any trouble at all on the way home. Although I was really hungry and wanted badly to stop for lunch, I motored through, stopping in George for fuel.

At home, I played my parking game. I dropped the trailer in my gravel driveway and backed the truck and camper onto the concrete apron. Then I used the front tow hitch on my Jeep to move the trailer into position beside my truck. Eventually, everything went into my cavernous garage. That’s where I’d prep the trailer and camper for my winter trip.

If you’re a regular reader of this blog, you might recall that I bought a cargo trailer very much like this one in January. It was kind of beat up and I never really liked it for a variety of reasons so I sold it a month or two after getting home. I know I’m going to like this trailer a lot better, mostly because of how clean and new-looking it is. I hate buying old crap; this is not old crap. I’m looking forward to customizing it for my travels.

Snowbirding 2019: At the “Old Fogey Hot Springs”

Posted on May 17, 2019 by Maria Langer

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I make a short visit to a favorite hot spring and meet up with a friend.

Note: I started this post back in March and just finished it today. My blog has been having permalink issues that made it difficult to keep it up to date. I think the problems are mostly resolved; I hope to catch up a bit and share a bunch of new content.

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
•

One of my favorite snowbirding destinations is a hot springs right off I-8 near Holtville, CA. On BLM land and maintained by the government, it’s a pair of concrete tubs beside a palm-lined pond that are all fed from a tapped natural hot spring. Although I’ve always known this place as Holtville Hot Spring, some nasty asshole has apparently renamed it on Google Maps as “Old Fogey Hot Springs,” apparently referencing the fact that most people at the spring are retirees camped out in the long term camping area across the street.

I was supposed to meet my friend Janet, who was showing and selling her artwork at a weekend show in Casa Grande, AZ, on Monday. We’d planned to do some hiking out at Borrego Springs, CA before she attended an art show there. (Sadly, although I applied I didn’t get in; too much jewelry already.) Since Casa Grande is on I-8 and the hot spring is on the way to Borrego Springs, it made sense to meet up there. I figured I’d get there a day early to enjoy the hot spring a few times before Janet arrived.

So that’s where I headed after leaving .

The Drive

I stopped in Blythe (or Blight, as we often call it) for groceries on the way, then let Google Maps guide me along mostly back roads south and west. I drove through mile after mile of farmland before leaving that behind and entering unirrigated desert with sparse vegetation and many hills.

There was little traffic going in my direction on the way — at least for a while. There were many RVs — mostly toy haulers passing me going north. That all changed when I approached Glamis.

is the site of an enormous sand dunes area that stretches northwest to southeast from Tortuga, CA to over the U.S. border with Mexico at Los Algodones. The road I was on, state route 78, cut right across it at Glamis. That’s where all the toy haulers were coming from. Glamis is a playground for dune buggies, sand rails, and other four-wheel-drive vehicles. From that point on, I was driving with departing off-roaders, who were calling it quits early on a Sunday and taking their toys home.

After crossing the dunes, I descended down out of the desert and into the irrigated farmland of the Imperial Valley. Google directed me on a zig-zag path through the farmland to my destination: the Holtville Hot Springs just off of I-8.

“Old Fogey” My Ass

I’d like to kick the guy who changed the name of the hot springs on Google Maps. I’ve been trying to change it back ever since.

The Holtville Hot Spring is adjacent to the (LTRA). This is a kind of special BLM camping area where you’re allowed to stay more than the usual 14 days — if you pay a fee. The previous year, I’d paid the fee with the idea of staying there for a while and then moving over to another LTRA near a lake in Arizona. But worries about electrical issues (which turned out to be non-issues) on my camper sent me to Quartzsite in search of repairs instead. So I’d only spent a few days there.

This was actually my third visit to the hot spring, which I’d learned about from another seasonal camper somewhere back in the winter of 2016/17.

The spring has two tubs — one large and deep and the other small and shallow — a weird shower head to rinse off before getting in, and a hose you can use to fill jugs with “clean” spring water. It’s cleaned once a week by the BLM (I believe) who drain the tubs, power wash them, add bromine (a spa chemical), and allow them to refill from the source. Access is free, dogs and glass containers are not allowed, and I think it closes at night but reopens very early. I’ve never seen it closed. It’s adjacent to a beautiful palm ringed pond where water birds can be seen swimming. I shared a photo of that back in 2017 in a postcards post.

The jerk who added the springs to Google Maps with the name “Old Fogey Hot Springs” was likely motivated by the simple fact that the vast majority of hot springs users are retirees who are living seasonally at the LTVA across the road. So yes, there are a lot of older folk in the tubs. But I’ve seen people of all ages there, including kids.

A Couple of Soaks

I parked alongside the road near the hots springs parking lot. It was midday and the outside temperature was in the low 60s. I put Penny on her leash and walked her down to the area to take a look. There were about a dozen people in and around the tubs — about my limit for a crowd. I went back to the camper, put on my bathing suit, grabbed my towel and went back. A while later, with Penny tied up at the other side of the fence, I was soaking in the big tub, standing with water right up to my chin.

The temperature of the water in the big tub can be pretty hot. I’m guessing at least 105°F. It’s common for people to soak for a while, then get out and sit at the edge of the tub or on one of the block stools nearby. That’s what I did. Then another hot soak. Then I decided to give the smaller tub, which is fed from the large one and is usually much cooler, a try. In that one, I sat on the bottom to get the water halfway up my chest. It’s a lot shallower.

While I was there, I chatted with the folks around me. I’ve come to realize that the best way to learn about new destinations is to talk to other travelers. While I was in the small tub, I chatted with a woman who was staying in the LTVA area with her husband in a small motorhome. They were full-timers — people who don’t have a regular home and travel all the time. They spend half the year on the road in the motorhome and half the year on their 47-foot sailboat, which is moored at San Diego. We got to talking about my upcoming cruise up the inside passage from Bellingham, WA to Ketchikan, AK and the boat I’m thinking of buying when I sell my helicopter.

Eventually, she asked what I considered an odd question: “Is your husband as adventurous as you are?” It never ceases to amaze me that people assume I’m traveling with a spouse even though I don’t wear a wedding ring. “No,” I told her. “One of the reasons my husband is my ex-husband is because he isn’t adventurous at all. In fact, I’ll bet that at this very moment he’s sitting on a sofa somewhere watching television.” We both had a good laugh about that and then she started telling me about how great cruising the inside passage in a small boat is.

After a while, I’d had enough soaking. I rinsed off at the funky shower, wrapped my towel around me, and headed back to my camper with Penny. I dried off, had some lunch, and spent some time catching up on email and other tablet things. Then I took a short nap.

At about 4:30 PM, the parking lot looked pretty empty. I figured I’d go for another soak. I wrapped my damp towel around my bathing suited body and walked down with Penny, parking her outside the fence on her leash again. I’d obviously underestimated the crowd, most of whom probably walked over from the LTVA. Although there weren’t many people, a lot of those people were kids.

I soaked in the big tub. I got into a conversation with the man who was there with his wife and three kids. They were full-timers — they lived on the road in a bumper-pull trailer and home schooled their kids. Then I got into a conversation with a man who happened to be a pilot. He turned out to be the husband of the woman I’d chatted with earlier in the day. We talked about flying and why he stopped: his twin engine plane burned 25 gallons per hour of fuel. Ouch.

After about an hour, I’d had enough soaking. I showered off again, wrapped the towel around me, and headed back to the camper with Penny.

First Night Campsite

I knew the area pretty well. I knew that if I camped north of the road, I’d have to pay for a long term spot, even if I just stayed a day or two. If I camped south of the road within about a half mile of the hot spring, the story was the same. But if I went beyond that half mile, I’d be out of the LTVA and I could camp for free for up to 14 days.

I had already scouted out the area on Google Maps satellite view. I realized that if I followed a canal road south and turned at a certain place, I would probably find a decent site for the night. I wasn’t picky. All I wanted was a place to park that was easy to get in and out of and wasn’t close to anyone likely to run a generator.

Google Maps got me there. I made the turn and found the spot I’d seen in satellite view empty. It was good enough for me, despite the fact that there was a motorhome parked a few hundred yards away. I pulled in and killed the engine, then climbed back into the camper to put on some dry clothes and start thinking about dinner.

The spot turned out to be so quiet that all I could hear was the occasional bee flying by and my tinnitus.

I enjoyed a great Internet connection that evening for the first time in a while. I also slept great. I think the hot springs really sucks a lot of energy out of me.

In the morning, after breakfast, Penny and I went for a walk. That’s when I found a better campsite about a half mile farther down the road. I thought it would make a good site for that night when my friend Janet would be joining us in her camper.

Movie Matinee

After the walk, we left the camping area and headed west on I-8. My destination was a movie theater in a mall in El Centro where I planned to see Captain Marvel. Oddly, I’d been to that theater the previous year, although I can’t remember what I saw.

I left Penny locked up in the camper where she had food, water, and her bed.

The 9:40 AM matinee cost just $5 and there were only eight of us in the theater — just three days after this record-breaking movie was released. My popcorn cost more than the movie ticket.

And it was a good movie, although I can’t understand how a superhero can be that powerful.

I made a few other stops in the area: Michael’s, a craft supply store, where I picked up a texture plate for the precious metal clay work I plan to do when I get home, and Best Buy, where I picked up a 4-port 12 volt USB recharger for my truck or camper. I was tired of dealing with 1 amp rechargers; this one had four 2 amp rechargers so I could charge four devices at once.

Trailer Trouble

Getting Penny out of the trailer, I accidentally knocked the crank handle on my trailer jack. Just my luck: the handle fell off.

I picked up the handle and the screw that secured it. The nut was nowhere in sight. I couldn’t see how to fix it then and there so I just stowed it in the truck. I’d deal with it later in the day.

The trailer had other ideas. I was about 200 feet short of my parking spot back in front of the hot spring when I went over a bump and the hitch jack leg dropped and started dragging. I stopped in the middle of the road to check it out and realized immediately what was happening. Shit.

I managed to pull the hitch jack leg up enough to continue driving and secured it with a bungee cord. Then I eased into my parking spot.

The jack leg was bent and could no longer be cranked back into its sleeve, even if I was able to secure the handle. This meant two things: (1) I’d have to remove the jack since I couldn’t drive on the highway with the leg only inches from the ground and (2) I would not be able to unhitch the trailer from my truck until the jack was replaced.

Okay.

I put Penny on a leash and let her stretch out in the sun. Then I got out my toolbox. Miraculously, I had all the tools I needed to remove the hitch jack. It took about 45 minutes, mostly because one of the three bolts was tough to get out. I tossed the jack into the back of my truck.

That done, I had lunch.

Another Soak

I changed back into my bathing suit, grabbed a towel, and walked down to the tubs. I tied Penny up to the outside of the fence, as I’d done quite a few times before, and went in. After a shower under that funky shower head, I was back in the hot tub, soaking with a few other people.

More conversation, although at this point I can’t remember what it was about. (I’m finishing this blog post two months after the fact. Oops.) I do recall that the hotter tub was super hot and I’d decided to soak in the smaller tub, which was cooler but not crowded. A while later, Janet walked up in a bathing suit and towel, went through the shower ritual, and joined us in the tubs.

I think we soaked for another 30 minutes or so. By that time, it was late afternoon. Janet had spent the day packing up from her show in Casa Grande and driving in on-again, off-again rain. We were both ready to find a campsite for the night.

Another Night, Another Campsite

Janet followed me back down the canal road to the spot I’d observed that morning on my walk. After some discussion, we decided that I’d back in and she’d nose in. That accomplished, we went about setting up camp and making dinner. She put out her awning, which turned out to be a good thing because it started raining.

We called it a night early; we had a relatively long drive ahead of us the next day and were hoping to get another soak in the tubs before we left the area.

Cleaning Day

We had a nice walk along the canal in the morning. Janet really wanted to cast a line into it — she loves to fish — but she didn’t have a California fishing license.

As I suspected, the soak was not going to happen. Tuesday is cleaning day. Although we arrived back at the tubs after the BLM cleaning guy had done his thing, the big tub was only half filled. There were a few people soaking in it anyway. My first year out there, I’d been one of those people and had walked around with the stench of bromine or chlorine all day. We could smell it in the air. Neither of us were interested in soaking in chemicals.

So we left.

I led the way out of town, following Google’s directions to an RV supply shop in Brawley. I still needed a jack for my trailer. Once I had that on board, Janet took the lead. I’d follow her through empty dessert into the Anzo-Borrego State Park, where a superbloom was in progress.

More on that in another blog post. Maybe.

Snowbirding 2019: Wickenburg Gold Rush Days

Posted on March 8, 2019 by Maria Langer

I spend a week in Wickenburg, showing and selling my jewelry at the Gold Rush Days Art Fair.

After Tucson, I headed up to the Phoenix area for lunch with a friend, my annual FAA flight physical, and some shopping. You know: the usual socializing and errands. From there, I headed to Wickenburg.

At Sophie’s Flat

It was Tuesday and I was supposed to meet my friend Janet in Wickenburg on Wednesday morning. It was late afternoon when I got into town, after stopping for a moment to get a pollo asado burrito at Filiberto’s on the outskirts of town. From there, I decided to try the campground at the rodeo grounds (Constellation Park) for a campsite for one night. I didn’t even have to pull in to realize that it was already packed.

Gold Rush Days is Wickenburg’s big annual event and has been for more than 50 years. A completely made up event — it’s not associated with any historic “gold rush” in the town — it’s a big draw, especially since it hosts Senior Pro Rodeo over the weekend. Wickenburg, which had become an old ropers’ town since I moved out in 2013, took its rodeo seriously and the place was overflowing with the horse crowd.

Since the campground there was full, I continued down Constellation Road. I figured I’d pull over on BLM land and just park for the night. Unfortunately, there was no place to pull over. So when the road forked, I took the left fork onto Blue Tank Road and followed that all the way out to Sophie’s Flat, which I knew from my horse owning days. It had been a stop along the Land of the Sun Endurance Ride I volunteered on every year and my friends Janet and Steve had stayed there with their horses one year long enough for a BLM ranger to chase them off.

The site had changed. It looked bigger than I remembered it and it was surrounded by welded pipe fence. There was a pit toilet in a trailhead parking area. There were already about a half dozen RVs parked, including one horse trailer with living quarters that had set up a fence for their two mules.

I found a level area away from anyone else and pulled in for the night. My burrito was cold by the time I ate it, but it wasn’t worth getting out the generator to run the microwave to heat it up and heating it on the stovetop would have taken too long.

Camping in Town

Janet and I were planning to camp with the other show vendors in the downtown park walking distance from the show. The goal was to get their early enough that we could set up next to each other.

Of course, I’m an early riser so I was heading back into town by 8 AM. I stopped at a gas station in town where I could dump my tanks, top off my fresh water supply, and refill my propane tanks. I was early enough that there was no line — there would be a week later — and got everything done by a little after 9 AM. So I went over to where I was supposed to meet Janet and waited.

When Janet came, we shuffled around our campers so she was at the end and I was in front of her facing the opposite way. The idea was to have enough room between us for her to park her truck and enough room behind my trailer to park my truck. That worked, at least that first day. Unfortunately, someone took up half my truck spot the following morning when I went to set up my booth and didn’t move until Sunday evening. I got creative with my parking and, fortunately, no one seemed to mind.

I had more socialization to attend to later that day: lattes at the airport with airport friends and dinner (which a shower first!) with my friends Jim and Cyndi and some of their friends. I also managed to get some grocery shopping in; my cupboards were bare and my refrigerator was empty.

Setting Up for the Big Show

The Wickenburg Art Fair was the first outdoor event I attended where it really mattered what my booth looked like. I’d been at a county fair the previous summer (which I didn’t even really count as an event because it was so dismal) and had been at a rock show in Mesa in early January. Neither of those had any rules about booth appearance. But this show was different. It was juried and had serious artists. My booth had to look good if I expected to ever come back.

Setup day was Thursday. I offloaded my tent and tables and a lot of my display material from the trailer into the back of the truck and drove it over. I backed into a spot near where my booth would be and got to work setting everything up. I did it by myself, despite the fact that there were other people around to help me. The way I saw it, I had to know I could do it myself and the only way I’d know that is if I actually did it.

I was baffled about how to set up my tables inside the booth and asked Janet and Steve, who were setting up their double-sized booth nearby, for advice. Since my booth was on the end, I could be open on two sides so she recommended that I put my three tables around the outside of the booth so people didn’t have to worry about walking in. So after a few trials and errors, I figured it out and set everything up except the merchandise. I’d do that in the morning, before the show opened.

I buttoned up my booth by dropping the sides and fastening them down for the night.

In the morning, I ran another load over to the show: my merchandise. It was early when I arrived and I got a parking spot. I offloaded everything, tucked it into my booth, and then ran the truck back to the camping area. I took my electric assist bicycle back to the show after securing Penny in the camper with food and water. Unfortunately, artists were not allowed to have pets in their booths.

New Pendants
Four of the pendants I’d made just for this show. Clockwise from top left: Sonoran Sunset, Evans Mine Turquoise, Chinese Turquoise, and Campitos Turquoise. Since taking this photo, three of the four pendants have sold.

The vendors who hadn’t set up the day before showed up and worked quickly to get everything set up by opening time at 10 AM. I worked mostly inside my booth, utilizing a few of the new displays I’d made. I’d also made some new turquoise, chrysocolla, and azurite pendants, which I put on display on the seven-piece “neck.” I set three trays of cabochons for custom piece orders out on the side table which was less likely to be seen. When I was finished, my booth looked respectable, if not downright professional.

Wickenburg Booth
My booth in the morning sun on Friday. You can see my bike parked in the little alley to the left. The building behind my booth is the library.

First Place
I’d like to think the prize wasn’t really for my natural wood display, which Janet had given me.

I took a moment to enter my Heirloom Rosary in the Art Show Contest inside the library. It wound up winning First Place in the jewelry category. To be honest, however, I’m not sure how much competition I had. But you can be that I’ll show the ribbon with the rosary at future events.

My booth was cold, although it did warm up a bit when the sun finally hit me. Arizona was having a cold spell that would stick around for a few weeks. My booth was wonderfully warm for the two hours when the sun hit it and much cooler for the rest of the day.

The Art Fair

Shoppers began arriving even before setup was complete. It wasn’t long before I was making sales. That day — Friday — was the best of the three days. I sold a lot of earrings and a handful of bracelets and rings. I also sold a few pendants.

Janet had a great first day: she sold a very large painting to a repeat customer.

Saturday was supposed to be the big day of the show, although no one expected things to get busy until after the parade. Unfortunately, Saturday was also overcast and cold so the crowd we were all expecting never materialized. Still, I did reasonably well, fueled, in part, by a woman who bought 12 cabochons for her daughter, who is just getting started with wire wrapping.

For my own comfort, I’d planned ahead and brought my little electric heater into the booth, along with an extension cord. I’d spotted an outlet on the side of the library building and I plugged in. With the heater under the table pointed right at my legs, my bottom half kept warm all day.

It was lucky for me that Janet had Steve with her. In the middle of the day, he’d go back to the campers to let out his dogs and would also let out Penny. I really hated cooping her up for three days in a row like that, but although I do have paperwork showing that she’s an emotional support animal, I hate to play that card. So she stayed in the camper, warm and cozy, while huddled in my tent in front of a heater.

The weather improved on Sunday, but it was still chilly. I think I did a little better than I had on Saturday. The woman who’d bought the stones came back to buy more. I sold a few pendants and more earrings.

I also had some visitors: my neighbors from home who were staying in Scottsdale for a few weeks. They stopped by to check out my booth and take in the show but decided to skip the rodeo.

For me, the show was all good. I’d covered my booth fee on the first day so there was no stress. I was very pleased with the show and decided to do it again the following year.

Shutting Down

The show ended at 5 PM with a mad rush by the vendors to pack up their booths. Rather than get my truck and fight them for a parking spot, I packed everything up, took down the tent, and got everything ready to move. Then I took the bike back to my campsite, locked it up, put Penny in the truck, and brought the truck back to the show grounds. I got a relatively close parking spot and made about 10 trips to load the truck back up.

Meanwhile, Janet and Steve were working hard to get their big booth with its wall panels taken apart. They didn’t need any help, despite the fact that it was getting dark. In fact, Janet returned to camp before Steve, telling me that he’d sent her away so he could finish alone.

Before it got fully dark, I needed to offload the truck and store everything neatly inside my trailer. It had gotten to the point where everything fit inside like pieces of a puzzle. I finished up in the dark, with a lantern stuck to the ceiling of the trailer.

Then I pulled out the bottle of champagne I’d been saving for the end of the show out of my fridge and brought it over to Janet’s camper. Steve made it back in time to join us for the last round.

Breaking Camp

It wasn’t until after 8 AM the next morning that we all hooked up and pulled out. By then, about half the vendors had already gone.

I had some aerial photo work to take care of from January that required me to get photos printed and mailed to a client who didn’t have a computer. Janet had paperwork to do for other shows she was planning to attend.

We both pulled out of the camping area and wound up meeting a short while later in the parking lot next to CVS and the post office. After jumping through a few hoops, I got my photos printed and mailed. I also mailed in my application for a show in Borrego Springs in mid March, which was longer than I’d originally intended to stay south. Janet did her paperwork and got it in the mail. We went for lunch at a Mexican place in the shopping center and then went our separate ways. We planned to meet up again for camping and hiking near Borrego Springs before that show.

I had one more stop before my next destination: that gas station to dump and fill my tanks. From there, it was more off-the grid camping, but close enough to civilization for more socialization and conveniences.

An Eclectic Mind

Web site and blog for Maria Langer, writer, video producer, jewelry artist, boat captain, and helicopter pilot. Blogging since 2004.

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