A Windy Day in the Desert Southwest
At 12:30 PM on the first Sunday in October, we departed Casa Carrie in Simi Valley, California, bound for Quartzsite, Arizona. Our overnight stay would be the Holiday Palms RV Park in Quartzsite. As always, the first day of a Four Corners
tour is a bit stressful. What have I remembered to pack and what have I
forgotten? As it turned out, I forgot the charger for my Bluetooth
headset and… my engagement ring.
From Simi Valley through the San Fernando, the San
Gabriel and the San Bernardino Valleys, I listened to LA News on 1070
AM. The Sheep Fire at Lytle Creek, in the San Bernardino National Forest
had broken through its lines and then burned toward the mountain town
of Wrightwood, east of Mt. Baldy. As I transited east on the 210
Foothill Freeway, I listened as if I were in the old days of radio. The
paid firefighters and the prisoners-of-the-state camp crews cooperated
to create firebreaks and to lay fire hose lines up impossibly steep
grades of freshly bulldozed earth.
White Bear, the DC-10 air tanker made one run, laying fire retardant down on crucial terrain. The P-2 Neptune
and the P-3 Orion, both built by Lockheed, Burbank in mid-century could
not overcome the masking effects of the swirling wind. Within thirty
minutes, fresh winds cleared the ridge-views for the tankers to drop
their loads. The same cold front catapulted me east on Interstate I-10
toward Needles and Quartzsite. All of this took place with barely a
touch of the accelerator pedal on my Titan truck. The billboard-shaped
back of my pioneer travel trailer caught the wind and pushed me forward.
When at Casa Carrie, I can hole-up for days at a
time, driving nowhere at all. Then, the next trip to the desert takes
shape in my mind. Will it include Chaco Canyon, New Mexico, Durango, Colorado
or Canyon De Chelly National Monument, Arizona, if not the North Rim of
the Grand Canyon? That is the beauty of Indian Country. One need not
adhere to any particular schedule or route. Here, one’s location is a
state of mind.
In Blythe, California, I stopped for provisions at
the Albertson’s supermarket. Luckily, we had prepared a chicken stew the
night before my departure, so I did not have to rely on their heavy
emphasis of deli fried foods. To my dismay, the organic wheatgrass that
they stock year round was getting a little leggy. I bought a pint
container anyway, wanting it as much for the small lawn I can create
with it in my coach as for any nutritional value it might hold.
When I settled in at Quartzsite, my indoor/outdoor
thermometer froze at 75 degrees, both inside and out. Several hours
later, neither indicator has budged. If only I had a barometer and
hygrometer, I could determine if all atmospheric activity had actually
stopped.
Quartzsite is 279 miles from Simi Valley. Arriving
here with everything I need to survive indefinitely, except for my
engagement ring, feels like an achievement. Now that I am on the road,
it all gets easier. If I forgot to pack something, I can stop at
Wal-Mart and buy it. That type of activity is what keeps the American
economy “moving”, if indeed economies move at all.
On Friday, October 9, Carrie will fly from LAX to
Grand Junction, Colorado. That day, I will drive from Moab, Utah on U.S.
Highway 191 North and Interstate I-70 East to “Junction”. At the
appointed hour, I will reunite with both Carrie and my engagement ring.
Email James McGillisBy James McGillis at 11:48 PM | Travel | Comments (0) | Link
