With time to kill, I return to the Colorado River backwaters for some rest, relaxation, and jewelry work.

One of the reasons I hung around in Gilbert as long as I did was that I had been trying to get into a March 2-3 art show in Litchfield, which is on the west side of Phoenix. I didn’t want to leave the area until I knew I couldn’t get in.

Show Scheduling Problems

The situation was frustrating. The deadline for application had passed — I fully expected to be on my way home by the end of February so I didn’t even consider it until I realized I’d be sticking around — and I wasn’t even going to apply. But the woman who runs the show happened to come by Gold Rush Days on February 10 while I was at my booth and my friend Janet introduced her. When I mentioned that I knew it was past the deadline to apply but was still interested in having a booth there if there was room, she said she was pretty sure they had room for me. Then she went on her way.

On Monday, I followed up with email and a few calls that went to a full voicemail box. Then another email. Then another call on Friday that reached her. She said she’d get back to me the following Monday, which was February 18.

I didn’t hear from her the whole following week. On Thursday, February 21, while I was hunkered down for that winter storm, I tried email again. On Friday, I called and got her again. She told me she needed me to fill in some forms and asked for my email address to send them. I gave her the address.

I checked my email several times a day for the next few days. On Sunday, I emailed her again. I didn’t want to be a nag by bothering her over and over on the phone. Maybe I should have. (I just know how I feel about being bothered by phone.) When I didn’t hear anything by Monday night, I decided to give up and go on with my life.

I should mention here that the same organization had an event for the following weekend back in Wickenburg, but I hadn’t seen it advertised anywhere and there wasn’t even complete information on the organization’s website about it. I assumed it had been planned but cancelled so I never followed up on that, even though my original email mentioned my interest.

I’d also applied to a show in Borrego Springs, CA scheduled for March 16-17. Janet had talked me into it. I really wanted to be home by then, but Borrego Springs was supposed to be having a superbloom and Janet wanted to camp and hike together before the show. She and I had applied by mail (their preferred method) the same day and she’d gotten a message saying she was in. I hadn’t heard anything at all. When I emailed them to ask, their response was an extremely unprofessional “You’ll get your response in the mai [sic].” When I pressed them via mail, telling them that I would not receive my mail until March month-end, they waited until my second request to finally tell me that they already had enough jewelry vendors. I finally got this information about two weeks after Janet got her acceptance email.

These experiences made me wonder if I was really cut out to be showing/selling my work at art shows. The lack of professionalism among some organizers was mind-boggling. While it’s true that I applied for — and got into — four other well-managed shows in Arizona during the time I was there, I wasn’t sure how much frustration I could deal with on an ongoing basis.

So on Tuesday, February 26, as I pulled away from the curb in front of my friend’s home, I found myself with absolutely nothing on my calendar until March 11, when I’d meet up with Janet for a few days hiking in Borrego Springs before she did the show there.

I decided to spend some time relaxing out by the Colorado River again.

My New Backwaters Campsite

I made a few stops along the way. I went to Cabella’s on the Loop 101 Freeway to buy a new pair of slippers. I also found (and bought) a Mr. Heater that was on sale for half-off because the box was broken. This is a neat device that attaches to the top of a propane canister for outdoor heating. I thought it might be useful in my garage shop (with the windows cracked open, of course). Then I hit the outlet mall where I visited the Levis and Jockey shops to buy two more pairs of jeans and a bunch of underwear.

Then I hit the road for the long drive to Quartzite. Once there, I stopped at RV Pitstop to dump my tanks, fill with fresh water, and fill both propane tanks. I’d used a ton of propane during that winter storm, just to keep the camper warm during the day. I discovered that although the dump lady was as friendly and cheerful as usual, the propane guys were very rude. One of them didn’t like the way I’d parked my rig so I’d moved it. When I pointed out that its new position blocked the same area, the three old men there copped an attitude with me that I found very distasteful. I know that if that happens again, they will have lost a customer.

From there, I drove past Tyson Wells and the RV Show area to see if anything was still going on. Quartzsite is at its peak in January every year, with a slow run up starting in November or December and a ramp down into March. By the end of February, it was pretty much dead, although there were still some vendors along the road at Tyson Wells. Any time someone tells me they’ve been to Quartzsite and weren’t impressed, I know they weren’t there in January. Honestly, that’s the only time to go there.

From there, I got back on the freeway heading west. I got off at the Ehrenberg exit and followed the road around to get on Oxbow, heading south. I was thinking about camping at one of the boat ramps along the river that’s off of Oxbow about two miles south of the freeway, but when I got there, it was occupied. I was actually surprised by how many RVers were still around. I drove down a road I seldom take and saw a campsite that would work for me but kept going. I eventually got all the way down to the campsite I’d occupied the previous season with my friend Janet. A guy I know from Canada was parked right across the road. I started setting up in that site, which was right on the backwater canal that has access to the river, but the amount of trash there really turned me off. I didn’t want to spend my first day cleaning up after the inconsiderate assholes who had been there before me. So I moved back to that site five miles back up the road and settled in by dropping the trailer and my camper side by side.

The site was nice, tucked back away from a road that got very little traffic. I didn’t realize until the next day, however, how much fine, reddish dust was on the ground. This would become a minor issue later in my stay when it got windy for a few days.

I planned on staying for 12 days so I set up accordingly. For the first time, I put out both awnings, fastening a side shade onto the one facing southwest. This shaded the side windows of the camper at my dining table, helping to keep the place cool during the day. I also set up two of my folding tables — one for grilling and the other for getting jewelry work done. I planned to do a lot of metal work and needed a place outdoors to do the annealing.

Here’s my campsite, mostly set up. It was the first time I had both awnings up at the same time.

Killing Time

Behind my campsite was one of the two area backwaters with access to the river. The one I was on was relatively small, going in a triangular shaped loop to create an island. It was the first destination for a pedal/paddle in the Hobie pedal kayak I’d bought back in December. It was a nice little outing on a day warm enough for shorts and a tank top. Later during my stay, I’d explore the much larger backwater north of my campsite (putting in at the boat ramp I’d wanted to camp at) twice. I also did part of the trip I’d been thinking about for some time: I put in at the campsite near my Canadian friend (who was gone by then), paddled the half mile down that backwater, paddled across the Colorado River (which was no small feat giving it was moving at about 5 to 6 miles per hour, and paddled up a back water on the other side. That one has two arms and I explored the shorter one; I would have gone up the other one, too, but I started worrying about getting too much sun.

Penny and I went kayaking at least a half dozen times during our stay.

I spent a lot of time exploring new jewelry designs, including rings and bracelets and hammered copper elements such as leaves. It was nice trying out a few techniques I picked up on YouTube, which I explored every evening for ideas.

I made just a few pendants. I had no real reason to stock up with no shows scheduled, so I wasn’t very motivated. My next selling opportunity would be back in Wenatchee at Pybus Market in April and I had enough inventory for that. But I’d recently discovered that my newer work was selling better than my older work. Was it nicer? Did I pick better stones? Or had I finally figured out which stones people wanted in pendants and was focusing on that? Who knows?

I also took care of some chores. For my truck, I got an oil change, had my wiper fluid system repaired (again; this time it was a broken hose), and had the exhaust and coolant fluids topped off. Surprisingly, my tires, which are pretty new, did not need rotating.

I went up to Lake Havasu to the place I’d bought the kayak, and had them adjust the rudder and its cables. While I was there, I had lunch, bought a specialized tool (long story), and visited a rock shop. With time to kill on a nice day, Penny and I walked down one of the main streets in the original part of town, away from London Bridge. I have never seen so many gun shops concentrated in one place.

The obligatory photo of London Bridge in Lake Havasu City, AZ.

I spent some time replacing screws on my new old utility trailer. I’d already decided to sell it when I got home so I was fixing it up for the next owner. I was also making sure it would survive the long drive back to Washington.

I set up a little outdoor photo studio to shoot some of my pendants. Janet had given me a nice piece of cholla wood that I used for displays in my booth; in the Arizona sun, it made an excellent backdrop for true color photographs of my jewelry. I shot every piece I didn’t already have a photograph of. I also spend much of a day updating the website and online store for my jewelry.

We went for a walk most days, usually following the road around to the river and down to the point at the end. There were a few people camped along the road there and one poor guy had lost his cat. The walk was short — only 1.4 miles round trip — but both Penny and I enjoyed it.

And that’s pretty much how I spent twelve days along the Colorado River: walking, kayaking, making jewelry, and tending to the little things that needed attention. And relaxing — it was a very restful stay.

Here’s a shot of the Arizona side of the Colorado River from the levee road that I shot one afternoon during our walk. Very peaceful.

Guests

I wasn’t alone that whole time. I had some guests — wanted and unwanted.

The second day I was there, a camper van parked across the road from me. He wasn’t too close to invade my space, but I couldn’t see why anyone would camp there when there were so many other nice spots for a small rig. The guy in the rig, who had a black lab, pretty much kept to himself, although I did meet him one day when he was out. He was a full-timer — that’s the common label for someone who lives in their RV year-round. I was very impressed that he had 400 watts of solar power on his roof. (For comparison, I have 200 watts and that’s considered more than average for a small rig.) He also had lithium batteries, which are crazy expensive but excellent for storing power. He was able to run his microwave off battery power. He was there almost the whole time I was, leaving for just a few hours mid-stay to dump his tanks and take on more fresh water. I rarely saw him.

My friend Mike stopped by for a visit on his way from Mesa to Palm Springs one morning. I made him coffee and we chatted before he went on his way. He and his ex-wife had finalized their divorce the previous day. After hearing the horror stories from my crazy divorce, they settled everything with a mediator, thus saving themselves tens of thousands of dollars and wrapping things up in months instead of years. He gave a little more than he wanted to, but he said it was worth it to have the whole thing behind him and move on in his new life. He certainly looked a lot happier than I’ve ever seen him.

While I was in Havasu for the day, some idiot with a motorhome parked almost right next to my camper. I was shocked when I got back. With the whole freaking desert out there, he had to park less than 100 feet from my rig? WTF? I parked my truck between us, a bit closer to him than me, in an effort to set boundaries. Then I proceeded to work outside, loudly, hammering jewelry while playing Pink Floyd through my outside speakers. The idea was to convince him that he hadn’t parked in the best spot. Them being there turned out to be a huge inconvenience for me because Penny kept wanting to go over there and they had a dog, too. I had to keep her on a leash, which neither of us like. On the second day, I switched to Yes music followed by Pure Moods. I kept it on all day and I suspect it was loud enough for my van-dwelling neighbor across the road to hear it. On the third day, I switched to NPR podcasts. By noon, they were gone. Coincidence? Not sure. Next time, I’ll lead with NPR.

On the last evening of my stay, I launched my drone for some golden hour shots of the area. Someone else launched a drone, too. At one point, I saw it hovering near my campsite, looking at me. How obnoxious. It didn’t stay long. A while later, an older guy walked over from the down the road where I new a few people were camped. He was friendly and we chatted about drones while I continued to fly and get my shots. He was new to drone flying and had already crashed his Mavic Pro once by doing something almost as dumb as the thing I’d done the year before to crash mine. I told him that the best way to become a good pilot was to fly as much as possible. (Oddly, that’s advice I once gave another pilot with aspirations of becoming a flight instructor, but he spent his free time watching TV instead of building the retirement “career” he claimed he wanted. Go figure.)

About that Show

Oddly, on my second Thursday there, I got an email from the woman who manages the show I wanted to get into in Litchfield. (That show, of course, was the previous weekend.) She sent it to my email address but addressed it to Janet. It was a letter of acceptance to the Wickenburg show, which was apparently going to happen in two days. There was no information about cost other than the fact that I’d need a temporary business permit for Wickenburg (which would cost $25) and camping nearby would cost $40/night with no hookup.

I wasn’t sure what to do. Was the acceptance for me or for Janet? And did I really want to pack everything up and rush 100+ miles back to Wickenburg for a show that was poorly advertised and might have a shortage of vendors? (Why else would she send an acceptance two days before the show start?) And what was the fee? I suspect it was in the $300 range for the two-day show, so I was looking at a cash outlay of over $400, not including travel expenses.

Janet said I should go, but I had a bad feeling about the whole thing.

So I replied via email that I wasn’t sure who she meant to accept and that it was too late for me to participate in a show in Wickenburg. And I left it at that.

I never got a response. Honestly, I don’t think I ever will.

Moving Out

By that weekend, I was already thinking of my next destination. I took my time packing over the course of a few days.

I took my rear awning down first since wind was in the forecast and that one seemed to flap around more than the other. The next day, however, the temperature had dropped with a front moving in and that afternoon sun was welcome on the side of my camper so I took the side awning and shade down.

I spent much of Saturday organizing all the materials and tools I’d pulled out to make jewelry while I was camped. I suspected that I wouldn’t use using any of that stuff again until I got home so it was as good a time as any to get it stowed properly for the long drive. Then I organized and packed my little utility trailer, doing my best to secure the items most likely to move around.

I still managed to squeeze in one last kayak trip out in the big backwater just north of my camp. I pedaled around with Penny standing on the bow and tried to use my iPhone to capture slo-mo images of the ducks running atop the water as they took off at our approach.

By Sunday morning, I was 95% packed. I put away the last few things, did my dishes and secured everything inside, raised the camper, backed the truck under it, and lowered the camper onto the truck’s bed. After tying the camper down to the truck, I backed up to hitch up the trailer. It went a lot more smoothly than usual — a good sign? I dropped the hitch onto the ball and fastened the chain and power. By 9:30 AM, I was rolling off to Ehrenberg where I’d dump and fill with water. One stop in Blythe for groceries and I’d be on my way.