Snowbirding 2019: A Dose of Civilization

After too much time cooped up in the boonies in my camper, I get back to civilization.

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

I woke up to another beautiful Arizona day. The storm that had soaked and snowcapped the state the previous week was long gone.

I checked the map and realized that the road I was near — Bush Highway — wasn’t really close to the one I needed to be on — Beeline Highway — to get to Fountain Hills. Oops. No matter. Instead of having a 20 minute drive, I’d have a 40 minute drive. It wasn’t like I was in a hurry. My destination was the big art show in Fountain Hills where my friends Janet and Steve were showing and selling Janet’s paintings. They’d been just about rained out on Friday but Saturday had been a good day for them and that day, Sunday, looked like it might be good, too. As long as I got there before 10 AM, I’d likely find a parking space for my rig. Other than that, I was in no hurry.

McDowell Sunrise
Mother Nature treated us to a nice sunrise. That’s Four Peaks again in the distance.

My Rig
My rig in its overnight campsite. I had to make an approximately 160° turn to get out of there.

After a light breakfast, I packed up my grill, which was about the only thing I’d taken out, and headed out. My biggest challenge was getting my camper pointed down the narrow road I needed to be on; it took several moves to make the turn.

At the gate, I had to unlock it and get it opened to leave. Someone was waiting right behind me and I was very happy to see him stop and close the gate once we’d both pulled through.

Wild Horses

Rather than double back toward Phoenix, I decided to continue east along Bush Highway until it met up with Beeline and then head west from there. It was a very pleasant drive with great views of Four Peaks and other snow covered mountains.

It wasn’t long before I started seeing signs indicating that I was in a wild horse area. From road signs to signs painted on the road itself, I was repeatedly warned that there were wild horses around. I looked. I didn’t see any.

Until I did. About a mile or two short of Beeline, at least a dozen horses in all horsey colors grazed on a hillside near the road. People had stopped with cameras to take photos. If the parking situation had been a little better, I probably would have stopped, too.

Wild horses have become a bit of a problem in the west. You see, unchecked, their populations explode, with herds all over the state. I knew from flying in Arizona for so many years exactly where I could find them: along the Gila River west of Chandler, along the Verde and Salt Rivers east of Phoenix, west of I-17 not far from Prescott Valley were just three places. I’d also flown over them in remote areas of Nevada, Oregon, Idaho, California, and Washington. I’d even been hired by the Yakama Nation to help them round up horses the previous spring.

While there’s some sort of romantic notion that wild horses belong in the west, there are clearly too many of them. In Washington, on the Yakama Reservation, their populations grow beyond available food supplies, leaving them to die of hunger during the late summer and through the winter. They’re also competing with cattle for grass and water, which isn’t a good thing for the cattle industry. Although some groups are able to round up and auction off some of the horses, that’s an expensive proposition and there aren’t too many people who want a wild horse.

What’s the answer? In my opinion, population control through sterilization. I’d hate to see the horses shot — although there are apparently people who think this is a viable solution. But because all solutions cost money and money can be really scarce to fight problems like this, it’s more likely that nothing sufficient will be done and the problem will continue to plague the west.

Anyway, I didn’t stop so I don’t have photos. Sorry.

At Fountain Hills

The community of Fountain Hills seemed to be still asleep when I arrived at around 9:30 AM. I drove into town on the main road until it ended with a road block for the Art Show. Then I turned right and slid into some curbside parking on an otherwise empty street. I figured I was about 3 blocks from where I had to go.

Penny and I cut through a few parking lots until we homed in on Janet and Steve’s rig parked in a private parking lot right off the fair area. Steve was inside, getting ready to go. Janet was already at the booth. Steve pointed. We went.

Most of the booths were still closed up, although a few showed some signs of opening. The event started at 10 AM but Sundays are usually a slow start day because so many people go to church.

I watched Janet finish opening her booth. She had a single booth at this show because of its high cost. Rather than fill it with both her acrylic paintings on feathers and oil paintings on canvas, she’d stuck with her feather art, which seems to sell better anyway. Her booth, as usual, looked incredibly professional with its solid gray panel walls and other display components.

When Steve joined us, we walked the show together. It was huge. About 75% of the booths were open at 10 AM; they were all open by the time I walked it a second time more than an hour later. In general, the quality of the work on display was pretty darn good, although there were a few too many buy-and-sell vendors. (Honestly, I counted four vendors selling the same damn ceramic garlic grater under different names.) I should mention here that there were actually three shows: the main show Janet was part of and two much smaller “scab” shows that set up nearby to grab the same crowd. And there was quite a crowd; by noon the place was really buzzing with shoppers.

Fountain Hills Show
Here’s a look down the Main Street of booths. You can see the fountain in the distance.

I came very close to buying a mobile of fish made from silverware but controlled myself. I did, however, buy a refrigerator magnet of a Volkswagen Beetle for a bug owner friend of mine. I got some ideas about displaying my own jewelry at shows and a few ideas for making various jewelry pieces.

After walking the show twice, Penny and I took a walk around the “lake.” Fountain Hills is famous for its fountain, which is one of the tallest in the world and goes off every hour on the hour (weather permitting). I used to take my helicopter passengers to see it if the timing was right on one of my Salt River tours out of Deer Valley or Falcon Field years ago. I saw it shoot off twice that day. The walkway around the lake — which is really just a big pond holding water for the fountain — was 1.2 miles long and we did it at a brisk pace.

Fountain at Fountain Hills
The fountain at Fountain Hills around midday on Sunday, February 24.

Penny, by the way, had become quite a celebrity. Several people wanted photos of her. Others called her Toto. Too many asked what kind of dog she was. I finally told them she was a Quincy Terrier and let it go at that.

It was nearly 2 PM when I was done with Fountain Hills. I said goodbye to Janet and Steve and headed back to the truck.

Back to Gilbert

Meanwhile, I had been in touch with Jan and Tiffani, my friends in Gilbert. Jan was recovered from his cold. They wanted me to visit. Tiffani put out two carrots: a shower and laundry. How could I resist?

On the way to their house, I stopped at Sprouts and Trader Joe’s to stock up on a few items I was unlikely to find elsewhere. Sprouts had those Cutie oranges I’m addicted to for just $1.99/bag. I bought two bags.

Poolside
Lounging poolside. Tiffani was amazed at how good my pedicure looked after six weeks. I still didn’t like the color of my nails.

Penny & Ruby
Penny and her friend Ruby joined me on the lounge chair after a while. It was a perfect day to relax outdoors.

When I got to their place, they weren’t there. They, like so many of the people who lived in the Phoenix area, had gone for a closer look at the snow. Now they were stuck in rodeo traffic in Apache Junction. They texted me the combination to their door. I went in, checked on their dogs and cats, threw in a load of wash, and then retired to poolside where I very nearly fell asleep in the sun.

When they got back, we relaxed together and separately while watching and not watching the Oscars. Jan had gotten the 16-inch telescope we’d gone to look at during my January visit. He’d had his backyard observatory modified and a mount installed for it. Now he was working on calibration. Tiffani liked to spend evenings on the back patio, reading on her tablet. While I watched the Oscars and followed it on Twitter, the two of them came in and out, mostly to refill their wine glasses.

When it was all over, Jan bought The Favorite on Apple TV and Tiffani and I watched it. I agree that the actress who played Queen Anne deserved an Oscar. But what a disturbing movie!

The Corvette
Jan’s Corvette.

The next day, Jan went to work and Tiffani and I ran errands. We started off in Jan’s Corvette, which Tiffani told me to drive since she doesn’t like driving on freeways. We dropped Penny off to be groomed at PetCo. Along the way, the car was making a weird rattling noise, like something was banging around by the front driver’s side tire. Tiffani said she thought they’d had that fixed.

So we took the car home and she called an Uber to take us to Scottsdale. We picked up medicine for her cat, than walked a half mile to a restaurant I’d eaten in the previous year, The Mission, which is in touristy Old Scottsdale.

Along the way, Tiffani explained the difference between tourists and tourons. They were easy to distinguish; tourons act like idiots, blocking the sidewalks so they can get photos of themselves in front of things like cactuses.

Dessert
Pumpkin bread pudding with ice cream.

We had an excellent lunch at the Mission, eating outside on the covered patio. I highly recommend it, especially the guacamole made table side by someone who apparently makes guacamole all day. Tiffani tried to get the server to give her the check, telling her it was my birthday. I denied it and begged for the check since Tiffani was Ubering us all over the valley. The server compromised: she gave me the check but also gave me a free dessert for my birthday. (For the record, my birthday is in June.)

From there, we took another Uber to PetCo to pick up Penny and then back to Tiffani’s house. I promptly went into the bedroom for a nap and managed to sleep through their Chinese takeout dinner, which was okay because I was completely stuffed from my huge lunch.

I should mention here that the main reason I was staying a second day is because I had applied for an art show in Litchfield Park and the woman who was in charge kept promising she’d be in touch to let me know if she had room for me. This had been going on for two weeks now and the show’s setup date was the upcoming Friday. I’d called and emailed her several times and although she never replied to the email, she made only promises of future contact on the phone. I didn’t want to nag her, but I also didn’t want to be 100 miles away when she finally called and told me she had room for me. So I was delaying in the Phoenix area just in case she got her act together and called. But it didn’t seem like that would happen and I was pretty much done waiting.

We had another relaxing evening together and apart. Jan showed me the Orion Nebula through the telescope and I couldn’t help but wonder how incredible the view would be if he had darker skies. Tiffani read her book on the patio. I watched jewelry making videos on their ginormous TV.

In the morning, I stripped the bed and threw the sheets into the washer with the last of my laundry. Jan made us breakfast. By 9 AM, they were leaving. By 9:30 AM, the guest room bed was remade and I was stepping out the front door with my laundry. I locked up and headed out for the next stage of my travels: more roughing it along the Colorado River.

Snowbirding 2019 Postcards: Superstition Mountains

I’m still in Arizona and still in my camper and still pulling my little cargo trailer. I signed up to display and sell my jewelry at an art show in Apache Junction this Saturday (tomorrow). I needed a place nearby to hunker down through the winter storm that was expected. Although a friend in nearby Mesa invited me to stay at her house, her husband has a terrible cold (again; what’s with that, Jan?) and I thought it best to stay clear.

I wound up just outside of the National Forest land north of Apache Junction, less than 5 miles from the Superstition Mountains. I found a relatively level spot alongside a wide dirt area, dropped the camper’s rear legs to level and stabilize it while still on the truck bed, and settled in for a three night stay.

The Superstition Mountains were right out my dining area window. They glowed in Wednesday’s late afternoon light.

Superstition Mountains.

The Superstition Mountains in last light.

The expected winter storm came in right on schedule with scattered rain showers starting during the night and then turning to a steady rain just afternoon on Thursday. I had planned ahead and had everything I needed to work on a big jewelry project inside the camper. I listened to a recorded book while I started work on a fine silver chain for a customer. I even did a little live tweeting with photos.

The rain continued throughout the rest of the day and into the night, turning the dirt area near me and the dirt road I’d taken to get to my campsite into thick mud and reddish brown flowing puddles. The mudders came by in their trucks at 5 PM and some of them were still playing in the mud when I went to sleep at 9.

In the morning, it was still raining, but lighter. And when I looked out the window, I saw the Superstition Mountains blanketed with snow.

Superstition Mountains with snow.

The Superstition Mountains blanketed with snow the morning after a winter storm.

For those of you who aren’t familiar with the Phoenix area, this is not normal. I consider myself lucky to have the chance to see it.

The rain is starting to let up now, but I’ll spend the rest of the day here, finishing up that jewelry project and making a few pairs of earrings I need for tomorrow’s show. With luck, I’ll be able to get out of here tomorrow morning at 7 to set up for that show; I admit to having doubts, mostly because of the condition of the road. I’m sure the mudders will be back in force today; maybe I’ll get some video of their antics.

And, with luck, I’ll get another afternoon shot of the Superstitions in last light, perhaps with some lingering snow.

Snowbirding 2019: A Quick Stop in Wickenburg and Forepaugh

I do some shopping and configure my new old trailer.

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

Although I would have had breakfast at Wild Horse West, they didn’t open until 10 AM and even then all they had was their regular burger menu. So after taking Penny for a quick walk to do her business, we loaded up into the truck and pulled out, dragging the trailer behind me.

Return to Wickenburg

If you’ve been reading this blog for a long time, you may recall that I lived in Wickenburg. For 15 years. I actually started looking for a different place to live back in 2005 — only eight years after arriving — but my wasband would only agree to two other places: San Diego, which is crowded and wildly expensive, and Santa Fe, which is at an elevation that would make it impossible to run my helicopter charter business. So I was stuck in Wickenburg — until I got divorced and was able to move wherever the hell I wanted to. I wasted no time getting out. That was in 2013.

So I knew Wickenburg well. I knew where I could get printing done (KwikPrint) and where I could buy groceries (Safeway). And I was only in town long enough to hit those two destinations, get what I needed, and get out.

At Forepaugh

My friend Janet, who I’d camped with for two weeks over the Christmas holidays, was staying with her significant other, Steve, at an off-the-grid ranch in Forepaugh.

Forepaugh is roughly halfway between Aguila and Wickenburg. There’s no town, but a bunch of people live near the main road on small ranchettes. Its claim to fame goes back to World War II, when glider pilots were trained at its old airport, which has since been wiped off the map, most likely by the guys who like to fly their toy airplanes there.

The ranch Janet and Steve were staying at belonged to their friend Rosie. I’d stayed there before. This time, I was staying for a day or two to configure my cargo trailer so it could neatly and efficiently hold all the extra gear I had crammed into the back seat area of my truck and my camper.

You see, Janet and Steve use this stuff called E-Track to create flexible anchor points inside their cargo-hauling vehicles. They had to configure Janet’s new old truck so they were down in Phoenix, in part, to buy some E-Track. While they were there, they picked up two 10-foot lengths with connections for me. I needed to pick that stuff up, but I also needed to borrow their tools to install it. So I had a small ton of work ahead of me at the ranch before I moved on.

Rosie’s ranch is a working cattle ranch with free range cattle and other cattle that’s kept in pens not far from where Janet, Steve, and I camped. There are also lots of horses and dogs. There’s no electricity and Rosie doesn’t have any solar panels, so she fires up a big generator when it gets dark and lets it run all night. Fortunately, we weren’t close enough for it to be a bother. The rest of us had low power needs and solar panels so we didn’t have to run our generators much at all.

Rosie's Ranch
Rosie’s Ranch from the air, as shot from my drone one day.

I didn’t get anything done that first day I was there — Wednesday — but I did do most of the necessary configuration the next day. The E-Track, which I’d never used before, seemed like a good solution when you want to fasten something to the walls of a trailer or truck back. The trick was installing it so that the screws would catch something other than the plywood inside the trailer.

Of course, they didn’t come with hardware so I wound up going back into Wickenburg with Janet to fetch some self-tapping screws while she mailed a package. Then back to work. I managed to catch a few screws on the trailer’s metal frame. The others went into the plywood. But when I was done with the first rail it was not going anywhere without the trailer.

Steve cut the other piece for me since the trailer, which is 12 feet long, has a door on one side. I think we went with 7 feet plus 3 feet. I put the long piece lower on the short wall and put the short piece very close to the floor near the back end of the other wall.

Next, I had to assemble and secure the heavy duty plastic shelving I’d bought at Lowes on Tuesday. I decided to put that on the long wall, right across from the man door on the side of the trailer. I had ratchet tie down straps and with the rings that fit into the E-Track, it was very quick and easy to secure the shelves to the wall.

Shelves
I installed the shelves opposite the man door on the side of the trailer. The gas can and jugs on the upper shelves are empty (of course).

Once I had the shelves in, I began filling them with the various boxes of tools, raw materials, and finished products for my jewelry business. These things were scattered all over my camper: plastic bins of tools and metal in a cabinet over my table, more plastic bins of tools and soldering equipment secured on a cubbyhole countertop, glass-topped compartmented trays of cabochons, large glass-fronted case with finished pendants, etc., etc. Everything fit into place neatly and I was able to secure them with bungee cords I’d also bought at Lowe’s.

Cargo Trailer
I could fit my bike, unfolded, against one wall. In this picture, you can also see my work table with the other tables beneath it.

With that mostly done, I started working on the other items I wanted to get out of my camper and the back seat area of my truck. My generator. My barbecue grill. Those tables. My tall director’s chair. My bicycle. I was able to fit everything into the trailer and secure it with the E-Track.

What I liked best was that I was able to open my small table — it’s 2 x 4 feet and has adjustable height — and secure it over the other two tables that were folded up and strapped against the wall. This made it possible to maintain a work area inside the trailer — no more dealing with desert dust on windy days!

Inside the Back Door
Here’s a look inside the trailer’s back door. Although I considered replacing the rearmost floor board, I’ve since decided to cover it with carpet.

Later in the day, Janet and Steve helped me get my folding canopy tent and inflatable kayak off the roof of the camper. The canopy fit easily by the back door of the trailer with its fabric top and sides strapped against the opposite wall. The kayak, however, was too big to be strapped anywhere — at least not with the current configuration. I left its bag on the floor near the shelves, hoping its weight would keep it from moving around too much in transit.

When I was finished, I was very pleased with the setup. I’d used up just about all of the wall space while leaving a path in the middle of the trailer. This made everything accessible without having to move much of anything else. While not exactly the mobile workshop I’d imagined when I first began thinking of a cargo trailer for my winter travel and work, it was definitely a start.

I already had plans to replace the big shelves with a narrower set when I got home and could put my workbench drawers inside the trailer for my next jewelry work-related trip. Then all those tools and metals could come out of their bins and be better organized in drawers.

I had pretty much everything settled and strapped down by late Thursday. On Friday morning, I finalized and checked the setup. I was good to go.

Latte and Away

Not long after arriving in Forepaugh, I got a text from my airport friend, Stan. He remembered the approximate time I said I’d be back in town and was following up with an invitation for lattes at the airport. (No, Wickenburg Airport does not have a coffee shop. Stan has a cappuccino machine in his hangar.) I had to pass that day, but got back to him on Thursday with a suggestion for Friday morning. We set the time for 11 AM.

I pulled out of Rosie’s Ranch at about 9:30 AM on Friday morning, with my camper back on board and the trailer behind me. I ran two errands — post office and supermarket — and arrived at the airport just a few minutes late. Stan had invited the airport gang. There were lots of hugs all around. I had to update everyone about what I’d been up to for the past year. The latte was good and strong.

It was after noon when I finally got on the road to my next destination. I had one stop planned along the way — but you can read about that in the next post about this year’s snowbirding trip.

Snowbirding 2019 Postcards: Well Documented Mining Claim

I took a short walk out in the desert this morning with Penny, who is feeling much better now. We were parked only about a quarter mile from pavement but were the only campers in sight in any direction.

Along the way, my eyes caught sight of something that didn’t quite fit: a white pole coming out of the ground. I walked over to take a look.

Mining Claim Stake
A neat white stake near the intersection of two gravel roads out in the desert.

My first thought was “mining claim.” But this one was unusually neat and had a weird, enclosed container on the top.

Container on Top
Someone had made a neat little container and fastened it to the top of the stake.

It was obvious that the container was designed to be opened. So I twisted off the cap. Inside, was a rolled up, folded piece of paper.

Paper in Container
Inside the container was a copy of the mining claim form.

As I suspected, the paper was related to a mining claim. It was an actual copy of the claim form the described the claim in detail and provided the name of the claim owner. I had never seen such a document at a claim site before.

I put the paper back into its neat container and capped it tightly.

I picked up a discarded plastic water bottle in our way back to camp.

Snowbirding 2019 Postcards: Truck Stop Shower

One of the drawbacks of my truck camper is its teeny tiny bathroom. Not only is it very small, but the entire bathroom doubles as a shower stall.

Truck camper bathroom.

The bathroom in my truck camper is teeny tiny.

It’s a bit of a pain in the neck to take a shower. I have to take everything I don’t want to get wet out of the bathroom — towels, make up, face cream, hairbrush, bathroom mat — or stow it inside the medicine cabinet or under sink storage area. Then I strip down and get inside the room, close the door, and close the shower curtain over the door. I get the water the temperature I want in the sink and then lift a little lever to redirect the water into the showerhead.

Often, I’m off the grid with no connection to a water source so I need to conserve water — my rig only holds 30 gallons of fresh water — and minimize the amount of water that goes into my gray water waste tank — which also holds only 30 gallons. That means wetting down, turning off the water, soaping up, turning on the water, rinsing off, etc. It’s especially troublesome when I need to wash my hair because I need an extra cycle for washing, rinsing, putting in conditioner, and rinsing the conditioner out. But I’m good at it and only use 2-3 gallons to shower.

It might sound absolutely awful, but it isn’t. The water is good and hot and I’ve never run out of hot water — because I’m usually conserving water. The bathroom/shower stall gets nice and warm during the shower. It really isn’t a big deal. But it isn’t anywhere near as nice as a regular shower.

This week, I worked at the big RV show in Quartzsite. I was parked in the campground and had a water and electric hook up with free RV dumping three times during my nine day stay. So conserving water was not an issue. But my next-door neighbor in the RV show, who was living in his van during the show, raved about the shower facility at the local Pilot truck stop. He even showed me pictures. Since it had been about two weeks since I had a shower in a regular bathroom, the pictures looked very inviting. And since it was time to wash my hair, I thought it might be a good time to try it out for myself.

Keep in mind that I have never showered at a truck stop before. In fact, I’ve only used a public pay shower about a half dozen times. But this was different. It was private and it looked clean.

So at 6:30 AM on Saturday morning I stepped up to the cashier at the Pilot truck stop and asked for a shower. He took $12 of my money and gave me a receipt with a guest number and PIN number on it. He told me that when my number called was called I would be directed to the shower that was mine.

I think the worst part of the entire experience was waiting at a small dining table in the waiting area. There were only four other people in there and two of them looked homeless and were sound asleep, sitting upright in their chairs. One of them actually might have been dead — he didn’t look natural at all.

After about five minutes, my number was called on the intercom, directing me to shower number two. I walked down a short hall and found the correct door. There was a pin pad on the outside and I managed to get it working on the second try.

Shower door.

The door to my shower.

Inside, it looked just like the pictures Patrick had shown me. There was a toilet, a bathroom counter with the sink, and a very large shower stall. Everything was very clean. There was a towel, washcloth, and bathmat. Inside the shower stall was soap, but I had brought my own.

Private toilet.

There was a private toilet inside the little room.

Bathroom counter with sink.

Everything was very clean, including the bathroom linens.

Shower stall.

Unlimited hot water with good water pressure and plenty of room to move around? Sign me up!

I turned the knob for the deadbolt and got right down to business. I gave my hair the best washing it had had since the beginning of the month when I stayed at a friend’s house. Then, after scrubbing myself thoroughly with the scrubby I had brought along, I stood under the hot water for five solid minutes. It felt great.

Finally, I shut off the water and stepped out onto the bathmat. I took my time telling off and getting dressed. Although the bathroom had been a little cool when I stepped into it, I was nice and warm from the shower.

I left the towels in a pile on the floor, gather together my belongings, and went outside. I stopped only to thank the cashier for having such a nice, clean showers.

Is this something I would do all the time? No. The shower in my camper really isn’t that bad. But I do admit that it was nice to get that good, long, hot shower with plenty of room to move around.

Best of all, I didn’t have to wipe the entire bathroom dry when I was done.