My Trails

I’m camped near “Geezer City.” I hate the thought that this community of retired people has anything in common with me, even though I will agree that our lifespan is approaching similar numbers. Lets just say that I’m not going to admit it entirely. At the very least, one thing I have going for me is the fact I have strolled farther than most.

It’s still early for the migration of retires to descend upon the desert town of Quartzsite, AZ. I arrived early Monday and had little trouble finding a good spot to camp for the night. Hundreds of acres of desert landscape, dotted with mesquite trees and hardy vegetation, bathed in warmth and sunshine even in winter, abound for the RV Snowbirds. It is a great place to be when the rest of the country shivers from the wrath of snow and cold.

I will explore here for another day and then move down by Yuma, AZ.

High winds associated with an approaching cold front rocked my van as I descended the Mogollon Rim on highway 87. I was in search of lower elevation and thus warmer weather. Reports were indicating snow and high winds above 4000 feet, and even though I wanted to test out my camper in chilly temps, reasoned more of a gradual trial than that.

I turned south on Highway 188 and parked on a forest road just north of Roosevelt, AZ. There were a couple of other RVs already setup when I arrived but I found a good pullout just up the road a bit. The temperature was definitely milder here than it was in Payson, but as the afternoon wore on, chilly air settled into the canyon where I was parked.

The evening was cool enough that I decided to build a fire. There was plenty of dead wood around and remnants of an existing fire pit a few feet away. I soon had a nice little fire that cast a warm glow when darkness fell. As the moon rose, I listened to the sound of coyotes howling in the distance.

Yesterday, I drove north through Salt River Canyon and turned southeast along a narrow, lonely stretch of road to Fort Apache. The Apache Indian Reservation is a little different than other national forests – they like visitors to pay at every stop. I wanted to visit the Kinishba Ruins, but after learning they were several miles up a dirt road, required a permit to walk through, and would cause me to backtrack from town, decided instead to tour their museum. It was only $3 and worth not a penny more. Most of the exhibits were about ceremonial dances and culture. I like many types of music but I just can’t get into the Native American chants.

I drove north a few miles and pulled down a back road where a sign announced that there was a campground ahead, but all campers needed a permit to stay. Permit means I would have to drive back to town to pay. I figured that this late in the year nobody would be around so I parked way back in the woods, hoping not to get caught. My van was the only vehicle on the campground and I only saw a couple of cars pass by on the road.

I woke up early and left without incident. I was happy to get off the reservation and back to National Forest land. The weather is going to turn bad in a couple of days so I will check out the area west of Show Low today then move south to lower elevations.