Four Wheeling !!

I'd seen people whizzing over the desert up and down dunes on TV. I never thought I'd be doing that. But I did!



I met up with old friend Mary Joe Heath, her son Gregory, and his friend Jeremy in the desert of far southern California. Mary Joe's family once lived in the house where Tracey and I got married. It was great to catch up with Heath family news. They had brought a 4-wheel all-terrain vehicle or "quad" for me to ride! Wow.

I followed them right out into the desert in GoJoe where we set up camp far off the road. It's amazing to step from the RV into this huge expanse of desert and dunes. The Supersition Mountains OHV Area is set aside for off-road vehicle use. Mary Joe says the place buzzes with hundreds of riders on the weekends, but during the week when we were there it was fairly quiet. We and the few other riders had the place to ourselves, and there were miles and miles of open terrain to zip over and through. Tracey got the biggest kick when I told her I was "four-wheeling."



This zipping through the desert is just TOO MUCH FUN!! I had no idea of the exhilaration to be felt when you are flying over an open range on one of these things. I got the hang of it fairly quickly, but I didn't want to be too overconfident and wind up flipping my not-so-young body onto the desert floor. Still, after a while it was hard not to keep pressing the thumb accelerator for more and more speed. The vehicle bucks up and down as it bumps over "whoops," undulations in the sand and dirt. That's a major part of the fun.

Below Mary Joe scoots over the sand. That's me in the next shot. Then we see Gregory and Jeremy tearing it up. Greg and Jeremy rode their dirt bikes most of the time, screaming up steep inclines and catching air. This was all amazing fun!

Slab City and Salvation Mountain

My cross-country journey has been mostly loose-ended with no particular itinerary. But there was one place I knew I wanted to see: Slab City in the parched desert of southern California. When the military installation of Camp Dunbar was decommissioned, its buildings were demolished, leaving only large concrete slabs. Over the years, RVers and others have moved onto the slabs and formed a makeshift city. Some of the residents are snowbirds who gather there for the winter. Others are more or less permanent residents. Slab City is the definition of "off the grid." It is a place at the end of the road that has no infrastructure, no law enforcement, no water and no electricity. You're on your own there.

The first thing you see when entering the Slab City area is a large hillside covered with what looks like plaster and paint. It's the result of more than twenty years of effort by a determined man named Leonard Knight and it's called Salvation Mountain.



The mountain is a labor of love attesting to Leonard's strong religious convictions. Leonard is a gentle and affable soul who greeted me warmly and invited me to look around and climb to the top if I wished. There were many other people there as well who had come to look at Leonard's creation, and he welcomed them all with a wide smile. I couldn't help but admire his creativity and industry as I gazed at the huge hillside. Much of it is covered with an adobe crust that Leonard makes from mud and water. He covers that with multiple coats of paint and then applies Bible verses and other words of wisdom.

You can even go inside Salvation Mountain. There you will see an intricate and multi-colored labyrinth of criss-crossed tree limbs, boards, and other items found in the desert that all serve to support the outer "skin."












Leonard suggested I take the "Yellow Brick Road" to the summit. Once up there, I could see the complete array of Leonard's domain -- the mountain, small structures, old cars and trucks, and undefinable objects. All were festooned with colorful designs.












I came down from Leonard's mountain and drove on in to "downtown" Slab City. But I'd spent so much time with Leonard that I don't think I gave the free-form town its due. I went up and down some of the gravel lanes that separate the concrete slabs and looked at the wide range of dwellings that enterprising Slabbers have constructed from materials at hand. But after the exuberance and bold color of Leonard's creations, the Slabs seemed a bit forlorn. Looking back, maybe I should have stuck around and really gotten a flavor for the place, but I was meeting some folks further south that day and needed to get on my way.

"Tioga George," my favorite RV blogger, gives a much better description of Slab City here. While you're there, you might want to read a little of George's blog. He's an inspiration.

Here are a few quick shots I made:

Salton Sea

It's hard to believe that this huge, 35-mile-long body of water wasn't here until just over one hundred years ago. And that it was an accident.

In ancient times, there was a large lake here in this desert region of what is now southeast California. But it had long since dried up. In the late 1800s, farming began to flourish in the area. Irrigation canals were dug to channel water from the Colorado River to the crops. In 1905, the Colorado rose to flood stage and the waters broke through the canal walls. For more than a year, the entire flow of the Colorado River poured into the Salton Sink, a valley more than 200 feet below sea level. By the time engineers managed to stop the raging waters in 1907, the Salton Sea had been born. It was predicted to dry up within twenty years, but runoff waters from surrounding farmland have continued to feed the enormous lake. It teems with fish and is a major stopover for birds on the Pacific Flyway.

The Salton Sea lies over an ancient salt bed and is saltier than the ocean. Unfortunately, its rising salinity is causing concern for the health of the fish and animals that live in and around it.

The campground at Salton Sea State Park is essentially right on the water. I was here for only one night, but I enjoyed meeting my next-door neighbors from Riverside, CA, and attending a presentation by a park ranger who explained the background and geology of the Sea and told of the ecological challenges it faces.

I can't seem to get enough of sunrises and sunsets so I pointed my camera at them once again.

GoJoe's Window on the World

Desert near El Centro, California

Shoop Doo Wah

I stopped at a gas station in tiny Hope, Arizona, and almost immediately got the eerie feeling that I had been transported back in time. Maybe it was the lonely, out of the way location. Or Connie Francis crooning from the outdoor speaker. And then this fellow pulled up in a 1957 Dodge and the transformation was complete.


He told me he had just bought it for $350. I immediately offered him $400 and we both had a hearty laugh. I drove off back into the future.

Serenity

Pulling out the map, I noticed a remote state park that was somewhat on my southwesterly path. I decided to take the 40-mile road that dead-ends at Alamo Lake State Park. What I found was a desert oasis - just the place to kick back for a couple of days.

Arriving at mid-week, I was able to get a campsite on the end of a peninsula with views of the water in three directions.

This was a great place to hike, ride the bike, and just think. There were actually lots of other campers and RVs at Alamo Lake, but they were so widely spaced that it was easy to feel like you owned the place. I like how an RV allows you to sit on some amazing real estate without having to own it.

These guys were wondering what I was doing there. I was wondering the same thing about them.

Serendipity

As I've mentioned before, I like it when things just happen. Good things in particluar. Sitting at my temporary home at the Prescott, AZ, WalMart parking lot, I answered an email from my neighbor Betty. I happened to mention that I was in Prescott. Within minutes, she wrote back that her cousin spends the winters in Prescott. She even provided a phone number. I decided to take the plunge and picked up the phone. That's how I met Bobbie and Dave Andrews.

I was invited to their home and spent a couple of hours getting to know this very nice couple. Dave is a retired anthropology professor at Middlebury College in Vermont. They have the best of both worlds, living in Middlebury in the warm months and in Prescott during the winter. Over coffee and muffins, we discussed New England, the digital revolution, RVing, and a number of other things. Thank you Bobbie and Dave. It was nice meeting you.

Mmmm ...

After paying premium prices for several days to park in Sedona's only in-town RV park, I was looking for an inexpensive alternative after I left. I found it at reliable old WalMart in Prescott. After settling in, I saw something just across the parking lot. A mythical place I had only read about but had never seen ...



I decided to see if the build-up about their burgers was true. California-based In-N-Out Burger is supposed to be the be-all and end-all of burgerdom. I ordered one of these ...



It's called a Double-Double (Two patties, two cheese slices. I hope my doctor isn't reading this.) I took it back to GoJoe for the taste test. Man alive, I've never eaten a cheesburger as fantastic as this one. I'm still thinking about it, and I don't actually eat much red meat anymore. But if I run across another In-N-Out Burger ...

In-N-Out has only three things on its menu -- burgers, fries and drinks. And it's not fast food. No, you go to the counter, place your order, and wait until they make it fresh. It's worth the wait.

Sedona Wrap-Up

Well, I was in Sedona for only a couple of days, but it seems like a lot happened. Along with walking, hiking, and taking pictures, I saw people, too. I don’t know why I don’t seem to remember my camera at those times. At one of Martin's favorite hangouts, a laid-back Sedona coffee shop, I met Robert, a filmmaker, and Chuey, an Irish competitive mountain biker extraordinaire. One evening, Martin gathered up a group that included Robert, Chuey, and several other folks including Eric and Susan, and we went to a great restaurant for pizza. Tracey and I once stayed in a log cabin on Eric and Susan’s property. They kindly offered to let me park in their driveway, but there was no way that GoJoe could make it up the winding, gravel road to their home perched on the side of a mountain. It would have been nice - they have an unbelievable view up there. I stayed under some shady trees at the only RV park in town. Here are a couple of shots.

GoJoe's Window on the World

Alamo Lake State Park, Arizona 4/2/09

Sedona

Sedona is a unique place. Nestled among towering red rock spires and cliffs, it never ceases to amaze. I was here to see our friend Martin Gray, but I also saw a few other familiar faces and met some new ones.

Sedona is a mecca for tourists, mountain bikers, climbers, and spiritual seekers who feel there's a certain energy about the place. I'm here as an observer and enjoyer. Here's what the surroundings look like:
















Downtown area called "Tlaquepaque." I can't pronounce it either. :)











That's Bell Rock on the left. When Eric was about thirteen, Tracey and I watched as he climbed it to the top. He would disappear behind rock formations and emerge again as he made his way up. Finally, looking like a little speck, he stood at the top and waved. For Mom and Dad, watching from the bottom, it was a "letting go" experience.