Anza Borrego Here We Come, Part 1

We seem to be awakened half the night by the railroad crossing, where the mighty beast flashes by at 60 mph and any late night wayward traffic must come to a stop. We’re boondocking just down the road apiece from I-8 and Sidewinder Road on Wednesday night, the first night out with our new to us camper, on our way to explore Anza-Borrego State Park in southern California.

Anza-Borrego is huge (600,000+ acres); California’s largest state park and the only one to allow dispersed free camping. Those words being music to our ears, we head out on Thanksgiving morning as we normally do, not knowing where we’ll end up to spend the night. We’ve left without detailed maps of the area we plan to visit but I tell Marc I’m pretty sure we take the exit at Ocotillo, whose brown sign merely states “desert parks” and head north on Imperial Highway, a misnomer if I’ve ever seen one, as we traverse the narrow, shoulder-less, hilly road. We go through a border patrol checkpoint and then pull-over at a kiosk which features an area map—our only signal that we have entered the actual park; quite obviously via the back door.

After a brief pullover to take long distance photos of the Carrizo Badlands, with the wind blowing sand against our bare legs, we decide to head on and look for a more sheltered spot to settle into for the day and evening. Carrizo looks interesting but is definitely four wheel drive country.

Overland Stage Route
We find what we are looking for with a dirt track labeled Overland Stage Road 1849 which heads east and looks passable with the Freightliner. We stop some travelers coming back out the road and ask its condition and if there may be a place to camp and they helpfully point out that there is a spot by the trees and that the road is OK. Soon enough after a mere mile, we are able to pull off the road into a wide spot nestled in the scrub and Palo Verde trees. We set up camp; take a short sojourn up the dirt road and across the hills to find some monuments made out of rock (denoting the stage stop?), take in the views and then head back to prepare our Thanksgiving ham.




While in camp, Marc also worked on some dead Palo Verde walking sticks for both of us, which are a beautiful golden color.


Blair Valley
We head out bright and early the next morning continuing our meandering north on S2 which lends great morning light to the Blair Valley region of Borrego. There are signs of settlements here and there and we briefly exit the park then reenter upon intersecting Hwy. 78, a main artery from San Diego to the OHV Park at Salton Sea. Traffic picks up considerably (trucks and toy haulers) until we mercifully decide to exit back onto a smaller road which immediately starts up a twisty grade on its way to Borrego Springs, a town of about 3000 and the official Visitor’s Center and Museum. The Blair Valley side of Borrego is much lusher, higher in elevation and obviously gains more precipitation. Within view are farther western mountaintops sporting trees. Also populating this area are mile after hilly mile of closely packed Cholla cactus—those dreaded jumping demons that pose a threat to human and animal alike. This would be a tedious area to try camping with pets.

Box Canyon
Upon nearly reaching the summit we pull over at a historical sign for Box Canyon. There amidst the interesting flora is a winding pathway to the edge of a very small canyon with explanation that this was not only also part of the 1849 stage road, but it was originally hewn by the first emigrants to California, in 1847. The emigrants made the goat trail which sits just above the canyon bottom, which was used by the stagecoach.




Visitor Center
The state of California spent nearly $7 million dollars building the underground visitor center and gardens for Anza Borrego and it is a welcoming place which even let us take on water for our rig. While there, we finally were able to purchase good maps indicating mileage and highlights on all the back dirt roads for future trips. They maintain a pond and oasis for habitat for the highly endangered pupfish, a prehistoric fish native only to Death Valley.






Arroyo Salado
To wind up our day with a campsite, we heed words of advice and head on S22 towards the eastern boundary of the park where we find the very primitive Arroyo Salado campground. Marc again finds a spot we can back into and we’re glad we arrived early as it soon fills with tenters and ATVers. We are the only trailer in camp—the only one to venture down the rough road which would likely high center most normal trailers. We look out and down upon the Borrego Badlands—a more extensive area than the others we glimpsed the day before. There are trails into these as well, also accessed only via four wheel drive sand tracks. I’ll miss seeing them this trip as well.
To Be Continued....

Our New Escape Pod

Things are looking like my entire year of not setting foot outside of Yuma will come to an end a little shy of the mark by about four days, but who’s quibbling when one has endured the desert for such a long stretch? More than the blast furnace heat of a long summer, it has been the monotony of the same scenery which has weighed on my mind, forcing me to feel a wanderlust to get anywhere over the next hill just so I don’t see the same horizon.

Serendipity struck about a week ago and Marc fell into the golden opportunity to buy a small (23 foot), older (1996) fifth wheel which will provide the magic means of weekend escapes from Yuma. The Travel Supreme is just too cumbersome to take off with on the spur of the moment nor is it suitable for primitive camping. We’ve spent a busy week fixing a few items and tweaking things as we want them and loading it up with gear. Although the unit is in superb condition for its age (& especially its cost…$950); a window had been left open and it was filled with Yuma dust and grime so it took quite a lot of cleaning to bring back its pristine condition.





In lieu of purchasing new tires and because he also needed to get the trailer higher in stature to hitch properly to both trucks, Marc had the idea to switch out the puny 3000 pound axles with two of those 6000 pound axles which came off the Travel Supreme. This also gave us much larger and meatier tires and good rubber. Marc calls it the Nomad “Bigfoot Edition”, fully capable now of off-road travel through some of the toughest desert or forest environments! We will be pulling with the Freightliner (yeah, we know, a tad bit of “overkill”) this first trip out since it has the generator. Marc has an older generator he hopes to get running and mounted on the Dodge to use it for future trips as its four wheel drive capability will allow us many more boondocking opportunities.


Although my work schedule has been particularly busy of late, I have been trying to find time to research where we might spend our four day Thanksgiving break. Head west into the desert areas of Anza Borrego, California’s largest state park, with badlands, boulders, and palm oasis to explore? Head north to Lake Alamo, an Arizona state park out in the middle of nowhere with serenely empty views and hiking? Go east and investigate all the big city attractions of Tucson? Or southeast to Organ Pipe Nat’l. Park where giant stands of huge cactus dominate the mountainous landscape? One thing is for certain: I had better hurry up, because come early Thursday morning, Bigfoot, the Duskes, and two cats are off on the first adventure of the entire year! Come back next time to see where we landed.

Simplicity

I clean an elderly gentleman’s home whom I admire for his simplicity. His house is orderly; not overly austere but not cluttered either, and I noted today that he owns 8 shirts, 3 pair of shorts, one long pair of pants and two pairs of shoes. Lest you think I snoop in his closets while he is away—nope—I do his laundry, fold and put away his clothes and towels. When I compare my closet to his it almost becomes a metaphor of the living conditions of life. The more you possess, the more it seems to weigh you down. On the other hand, the more we lose of what we possess—things and stuff, health, money, status, time—the more it also seems to weigh us down. A conundrum for sure.

I am on a mission to seek beyond where I have been. Would my life become that much simpler if I got rid of everything in my closet but 8 blouses, 3 pair of shorts, a pair of slacks and (God forbid!) only two pair of shoes? What is the essence of moving into a later stage of life without the weight (and fear) of the world; slipping more easily down the passage of time; dare I say—satisfied? It defies me.

I underwent a recent health scare where the jury has not yet returned my verdict. I teeter on the verge of an uneasy panic and a dive into the nether world of subconscious thoughts as I try and cope to manage my thoughts and feelings about something I know nothing about. I have been oblivious to good health; after all, it’s always been something that was just there until one recent day when maybe it isn’t any longer. I feel I faced death and found myself sadly lacking; found myself not ready in the least. Too much of my struggle to become a new me is yet undone—hell, 80% of it is probably undone.

My life in the past four, harrowing years hasn’t been at all what I wanted or pictured it at this stage of the game. I am on a quest to come to terms with that. To continue to live I need to do that. Then maybe I will be free to move on and live better and longer. It’s all about finding the key that lets one be happy with a closet mostly empty don’t you think?

A Sweet Arrival

October 12th dawned a beautiful Yuma day in more ways than one—daughter Rachael was on her way to stay with us for a short visit! I worked my usual little lady’s breakfast, came home and picked up Marc and we whisked our way quickly to the airport to await her arrival. She looked good and we got caught up during the afternoon and as she helped us prepare dinner.



The next day found us touring Algodones where it didn’t take long for the hawkers to realize they had a neophyte with some money, as Rachael found bobble after bobble she needed to haggle for. We had a wonderful and authentic lunch al fresco at the Paraiso which features a beautiful outdoor garden area. Marc and Rachael lingered for a beer while I scooted off to my dentist for a quick teeth cleaning.







Since the border crossing went quickly getting back into the US, we had time to stop by and allow Rachael to tour the infamous Yuma Territorial Prison. In the museum we took each others’ pictures using the very mirror used in the day to capture the profile view of incoming prisoners. From there, needing some cold water, we stopped by my favorite client Lilly’s, so she could meet Rachael and we could chat a bit. Another home cooked dinner al fresco on our patio followed that evening after our busy day.



Thursday was girl’s day as early in the day I drove Rachael with Derby to her vet appointment. Once back home, I took Rachael on a whirlwind tour of downtown, including the art deco Main Street area of old historic Yuma. We stopped by Lute’s, a former casino but now just restaurant and bar, for lunch after browsing many of the antique stores of downtown. We enjoyed another evening outdoors on our patio with a neighbor for company as we dove into homemade enchiladas.




Saturday, our last full day and night with Rachael we awoke early and had a refreshing morning walk and then piled into the Dodge with guns and ammo for the short trek out into our desert for some target practice. Marc had made some cardboard targets and an improvised stand and he measured out 5, 10 and 20 yard distances. The sun felt broiling as we blazed away but once again we had a fantastic time with our daughter. Saturday afternoon and evening we just kicked back around the house, mostly under the a/c as we have experienced unprecedented triple digit temperatures this week and it finally wore us out!





We barbecued an Alaskan salmon fillet and once again dined al fresco and then hopped across the street to our neighbor’s house for a little more camaraderie and Yuma hospitality.

Sunday was very sad as we watched Rachael checking through security in the early morning hours to fly back and prepare for her following work week. The same can be said for me—time to get back to work, but with memories I will treasure forever of a very special four days. Thanks for coming sweetheart.

Feeling Old

There’s nothing like a skin cancer diagnosis to make a member of the Boomer generation really feel past their prime and it happened to me last week. Since April I’ve been aware of a small growth on my cheek just below my eye which my regular doctor thought could be burned off with dry ice. Given that didn’t work; I saw a dermatologist this past week and learned that, in my case, surgery is probably going to be the best option. There was another treatment in the form of a cream which could be used over the course of three months but which produces oozing crusty sores and lots of skin irritation. I figure a lifetime scar is probably preferable since I’m out working everyday in the public and the thought of carrying ugly sores for three months just wasn’t that appealing.

After a trial of nearly two months, most of the kitchen redo is finally finished. Well…at least the tile portion! We ended up having to tear out most of the work the Mexicans did due to shoddy workmanship. Marc’s job turned out beautiful and I love it! Marc still has to make some cabinet doors and spice racks which he will hang on either side of my kitchen window that will triple the storage I had previously.







The small dinette table and chairs are gone and in its place is a new wine rack where I also store all my cookbooks and some serving dishes. The pies de la resistance is the butcher block which we have really enjoyed using.





My schedule has gotten unbelievably busy with my seniors; in fact, I’m just about as full with as many clients as I can handle at the moment. Now that the snowbirds are returning (yes already!) I am getting at least two-three calls a week in which I must turn people down which is always a tough thing for me to do. But since I’m a one-man band there is only so much of me to go around and still have anything left for the home front. A busy schedule makes the weeks fly by but I often reach the weekend too tired to do much beyond my normal errands and chores to get ready for my following work week. That’s not to say I don’t truly enjoy what I am doing though.

Our daughter Rachael will be visiting for a few days in a couple weeks so I will take three days off to spend with her. We’ve got some fun things planned and we’re very excited to see her soon! Even Derby will likely be amazed (and a little confused) to see her again! Meanwhile, Marc is about to get going on welding and building some gates so we can try and contain our cats a little better and we hope to do some more landscaping as soon as we can find the gumption (and cooler weather) to dig some deep holes. I want some more palm trees. We also have a plant against the front privacy wall which has struggled from day one which I want to pull and replace with a bougainvillea. I’ve always wanted to see one growing up and cascading over the wall. Nights here have finally started to cool off although the days haven’t so our air conditioners still grind away 24/7. October should see us turning the heat corner and then it will be Yuma’s turn to shine with fabulous weather all winter.

Desert Deluge, September 5th

As so often happens with desert storms, this one appeared quickly over the Gila Mountains with a few thunderheads and ever-increasing winds. It didn’t take long for the downpour to begin and quickly provide inches of runoff from the streets and into the washes. The cooling effect was immediate too; we quickly fell a full ten degrees in temperature and then another ten degrees within the next hour after the rain had stopped. The humidity also jumped to an oppressive 80%!

They often advise not driving through the water-filled washes and even though it might seem like mere inches, I was surprised today to see road crews out with heavy equipment scraping not only buckets of sand off the roadway, but fairly large boulders and broken limbs of trees six inches in diameter. None of that debris was visible under the raging, muddy waters as I took these pictures yesterday during the storm. In a small car like mine, a person could do serious damage to their undercarriage.