I was planning to take Hwy-395 up towards Mono Lake (again… I came south this direction just a few months back) to re-experience some of the attractions along that route before hoping over the Sierras before any snowfall. As luck would have it, and as I expected, the day I turned North is the day that weather *finally* starts rolling into the Sierra’s. So, just before committing to Hwy-395 as my route a final re-check of the weather turned me about-face 40 miles and Westward another 60 miles to pull into Bakersfield for the night.

This morning I woke early, filled up with fuel, and finished off the final 280-odd miles up Hwy-99 to arrive at my Mother’s, but not without it’s own drama…

After 2500 miles and 22 days of driving, and only 30 miles remaining in this stage of the journey, and odd sight caught my attention in my mirrors. It was just a flash and a “twap” sound, but the damage was unmistakable. My 4 solar panels mounted on the roof of the van finally caught the wind and freed themselves to the disgust and anger of the cars following behind me. $200 in solar panels hitting the asphalt and shattering… what a shitty way to end a trip eh?

Slab City is mostly people seeking to escape or dodge someone or some government agency, and they do not want to be talked too, or photographed. They do not care to be friendly or comforting. These people “own” the property they camp on (not legally, but by the rights that they have been there for so long). They surround their old broken down RVs with old tires or large rocks to keep others from coming near them. These “fences” are sometimes clearly marked with a “don’t bother me” sign of one form or another. These are the people who live here year round and have done so for decades.

Others are tourists, like myself, in more modern rigs. It is obvious who is who as the tourists are there in trailers or RVs that cost as much as a house, while the live-in residence do so in something you would find for $200 on craigslist. My van was luxurious compared to the residence and was newer than 90% of all vehicles out there.

Now, I’m sure there are a lot of good folk in Slab City but the overall feel I got was one of the following; Either 1) I was not poor and run-down enough to fit in with the residence, or 2) I was not driving a rig cool enough to be looked at by the tourist crowd. I was an outsider even in a community of outsiders…

And this is when it hit me. These people are running AWAY from something. They HIDE out here away from society and the prying eyes of what ever they are hiding from. While they hide, I am SEEKING and prefer constant motion and adventure.  I enjoy the adventure of solitude and look forward to exploring new paths and areas, and when I do run into others on that path I enjoy coming together with that stranger to share experiences and ideas… and a beer or two.

Slab City is not for me so I moved on

Salvation Mountain brought mixed feelings to me. Anyone this fanatical about ANY religion needs to be in a nut house. However, set the religious aspect aside and this place is wonderful and odd at the same time. It is a huge multicolored mud-hut two stories tall. Inside appears to be a tree holding it all together, though it could be loose lumber that was collected as well… you can’t really tell as it is all covered in a think layer of mud and paint. This place is straight out of Wonderland on LSD.

After leaving Salvation Mountain, I went into the “city” to find someone to ask a few questions. I wasn’t sure if there was some rules (written or not) of where to camp and where not to. Once that was sorted out (camp anywhere… if you don’t like your neighbor, just move) I scouted about for a while an settled on a spot a few hundred feet off the road, across the street from Salvation Mountain. A small dirt road led me to a nice spot which I pulled the van into and promptly sunk into the sand to the axles!

I spent the next 2 hours digging and trying to get myself out. It is 80 degrees here, and I am using my bare hands to dig into the sand. After numerous failed attempts I finally started flagging down passing 4X4 trucks and the 3rd guy had chains and was willing to pull me out of the sand without making fun of me (too much). Once out, I parked at the neared flat-ish surface that was NOT sand, made up some wash water and changed clothes.

I’m done. I will sleep here tonight and scout around on foot in the morning. Then I will decide if I like Slab City or not.

“The Salton Sea is a shallow, saline, endorheic rift lake located directly on the San Andreas Fault, predominantly in California’s Imperial Valley. The lake occupies the lowest elevations of the Salton Sink in the Colorado Desert of Imperial and Riverside counties in Southern California. Like Death Valley, it is below sea level. Currently, its surface is 226 ft (69 m) below sea level. The deepest area of the sea is 5 ft (1.5 m) higher than the lowest point of Death Valley.” – Wikipedia

Again, I had no idea I was heading to a below-seas-level-area. It was not until I peaked at my GPS and it said -200 ft that I had any idea at all. Here I was, below sea level again with a huge sea right in front of me: A sea below the sea :-)

I ended up having to remove the house-battery from the rear of the van and connect it to the car-battery with the jumper cables I bought just before this trip. I bought these cables knowing that if I did this exact thing, I had an easy way out, though that easy way was not so easy… removing this battery involves unpacking most of the rear of the van, removing a bunch of wiring, and unstrapping the massive battery all before my AM coffee.

Finally I was rolling again, deciding to skip breakfast as the battery needed charging and it would only charge if the engine was running. No use wasting the fuel, so drive on!

Tucson came and went as a fuel-stop only. I really enjoyed Tucson last year, but this time I had no plans to stay. I was still heading West on I-10 with no clue as to whether I would take I-10 or I-8 though Arizona. I definitely did not want to go through Phoenix again so I took I-8 through the Sonoran Desert National Monument and cut north to re-connect with I-10.

I felt so let-down by the caverns, I had already written off Arizona as a whole. In fact, I was really bum’d out all together and had basically written off the remainder of my trip. I was only 900 miles away from Mom and that is the direction I was pointing my path, though it would take me right up the center of California.

I called it a night after a few hundred miles, an just inside California on I-10

“Born in present-day Arizona, Cochise led the Chiricahua band of the Apache tribe during a period of violent social upheaval. In 1850, the United States took control over the territory that today comprises Arizona and New Mexico.  Not hostile to the whites at first, he kept peace with the Anglo-Americans until 1861… This rugged natural fortress was, for some 15 years, the home and base of operations for the famed Chiricahua Apache Chief, Cochise.  Cochise and about 1,000 of his followers, of whom some 250 were warriors, located here.  Sentinels, constantly on watch from the towering pinnacles of rock, could spot their enemies in the valley below and sweep down without warning in destructive raids.  No man, woman or child within a hundred miles was safe from these attacks.” (

I kept these words in my mind as I visited Cochise Stronghold. I admit, I expected some type of man-made fort built from logs and stone. But as the Indians probably did for hundreds of years before us, they let nature build an even better fortress and used it without alter ation. It doesn’t take long for a person to realize just how difficult it would have been to defend against even a small force held up in this canyon.

Even in modern times, the road in is something to fear. 3 miles of the wash-board-effect dirt road rattled just about everything from it’s traveling spot in the van.  Laptops jiggled and threatened within millimeters of jumping off counter space along with anything not bolted down to a surface in the van. I kept thinking of the two other times I was on a dirt road like this, and the two other times I exited said dirt road with some sort of mechanical issue in the van. Luckily, no such ill fate this time… yet.

I pulled into the camp area, found a parking spot and went out on a short 2.5 mile hike to get a feel of the area. When I started my hike it was cool enough for me to put on another shirt, but once I climbed along the canyon wall, above the trees, the sun quietly reminded me of my over-dress.

Surely this is not the ideal time of the year to photograph plants and animals but I still found my fair share of interesting things to shoot. I was amazed on how large some of the agave plants grew… and got very lucky to be looking down to prevent a next step which would have surely been the death of a baby tarantula crossing my path. He was not happy about our encounter.

This would be a great spot to bring a family for a weekends camp. Not so far from town that it kills the fun, but far enough to be ‘in the woods’. There was only 12-15 camping spots in the campgrounds, and only 3-4 were taken. I considered camping there myself as I had just a tinkle of Verizon connection, but I moved on to stick to my non-plan-plan of free camping Sunday through Fridays of every week.

This morning I looked up at the clouds in the sky and mountains on the horizon and a smile crept onto my face. I’m ready… I can hear them calling… So, with a final load of laundry and one last shower, I am packed up and heading Westward once again… hoorah!

Another day and a half in Willcox before continuing towards Tucson area and beyond. I will have to re-stock some groceries in town and will fill the fuel tank in Tucson (30-40c a gallon cheaper in Tucson then in Willcox). I have like sitting still these past two days, but I suspect by Sunday I will be more than happy to get moving again. Already the road beckons…

PS – I heard, in a commercial while watching Hulu, that the average person has 6000 thoughts each day. This made me think… how many do I have and about what? As I have been catching myself thinking thoughts, I realize the vast majority are about a single subject (you can guess… I’m a man) with only a fraction going towards other things like food, planning, hygiene, etc. If I had to put a number, I’d say 4500-5000 of my daily thoughts are either specifically about that subject or only a once-removed-cousin to that subject (Should I eat there or there? Which would more single-women be eating at?). Hmmm

This morning I crossed town to a RV park I stayed one night at last year. The management were so nice and the price was perfect, so I decided to drop in for a few days stay while I figure out what I am doing next. I paid up for 3 nights, plugged in, showered up, and took care of the laundry that has been piling up under my bed. I must say, having electricity sure is nice :-)

As for what I am doing? I’m not really sure. I have to roll into grocery store to pickup some minor things. After the weekend I was referred to go see the Cochise stronghold which is right down the road from me. I may go into the Kartchner Caverns this time around as I passed them by last year for an unknown reason and the Sonoran Desert Ntnl Monument is a possibility too. We shall see.