It’s a good day for travel.
Wolfgang graciously offers to help me back up the Perfect Tow Vehicle to hitch up the Casita. “No, It’s better if I do this by myself. Thanks anyway.” He looks uncertain so I add, “If I need any help, I’ll come and get you.” We’ve already said our goodbyes, being good boondocking neighbors.
I’m excited about getting on the road today, going west to Yuma.
Breaking camp goes quickly. As I back up a few inches in order to retrieve the leveling blocks and chocks from under the tires, I see Rick leaning against his Jeep up at his campsite. He’s soaking up some sun with Lady at his side.
One more walk around the rig and we’re all set to go. I look back up at Rick, give him a big wave, and holler, “Bye, Rick!”
He lifts his arm and shouts back, “Bye, Sue!” I climb up into the PTV, fire ‘er up, and we’re on our way!
I drive into Belly Acres RV Park and park next to the office. A man immediately appears at my window asking if he can help me. I tell him I want to dump my tanks. “Do you want to fill up with water?” he asks. “Sure, that’d be great!”
He tells me it’s ten dollars for both, and asks me where in South Dakota I’m from.
I explain that I don’t live in South Dakota; I just use it for my residency, license plates, and mail forwarding.
“Oh, I was wondering because I’m from Idaho.” We talk about Idaho for a while. He makes sure I’m all set to dump and get water, and wishes me safety on the road.
The crew knows this isn’t a trip to the grocery store.
They’ve settled in. Spike’s on the bench seat and Bridget’s on the pillows on the floor by my seat. We travel north on Highway 85 for about an hour, then turn west at Gila Bend, taking Interstate 8 to Yuma. I’m shocked when I see a road sign “San Diego 224 miles.” Gee, I didn’t realize I was that close to the Pacific.
I keep the speedometer at 55-60 mph all the way.
We stop at a rest area about halfway; the crew socializes in the “Pet Exercise Area” with a young Cavalier King Charles Spaniel named Rascal. Back in the PTV, both Bridget and Spike fall asleep and stay that way for the rest of the ride to Yuma.
Yuma makes a dramatic entrance when you approach her from the east.
The interstate, after crossing miles and miles of flat scrub desert, suddenly climbs up and curves around some huge rock outcroppings, like the swirl on a soft ice cream cone. Once you reach the crest, Yuma comes into view, spread out like a white blanket across the flat desert up ahead. There must be thousands and thousands of motorhomes and park models, jammed together in tidy rows!
I take Exit 7 and after several easy turns on wide streets we arrive at Starlight Solar. I look at my phone. It’s a little after 3 o’clock. We left Ajo at noon. I leave the crew in the PTV and walk over to the office. A tall, young woman is at the counter. I tell her my name and that my appointment isn’t until tomorrow.
“Would you mind if I spent the night here?” I ask.
“Not at all!” She shows me where to park once some cars pull away. “They’ll be leaving at four.” I thank her and hurry out to the PTV. Spike and Bridget need to get rid of their energy.
We walk to the end of the wide street, past corrugated buildings and chain link, a typical industrial park. Spike spots a big, yellow dog and insists on meeting him. They sniff, wet a post a few times, and prance at each other. I urge us on.
I notice lots of palm trees and plants I remember from my years living in Florida. There’s an orange grove at the end of a side street, but I’m hungry so we turn back to “home.” The crew and I eat supper and lie down to rest for a bit.
Later I take some photos of a pretty, flowering bush along the parking lot fence at Starlight Solar.
The appointment isn’t until noon tomorrow.
Once the solar work is done, the crew and I will look for another place to boondock!
Hmmm . . . Will we camp in Arizona or California?