The time has come for Reggie and me to head on down the road to a new camp.
Waste tanks need dumping. That means hitching up and moving the Best Little Trailer to a dump station. We could move into the RV park in Overton for an overnight and take care of the dumping at the station there. That’s what some of the RVers on Poverty Flats do. They dump at the park and return to the mesa.
That wouldn’t work for us.
Not after a month living in peaceful solitude. I can’t bring myself to slide our home between other rigs that are lined up like dominoes.
The photo above shows our part of the mesa at its most “crowded.”
The “regulars” at Poverty Flats — those who camp here every winter — tell me that there are half as many RVs at the Flats as there usually are for this time of year. November is a big month for snowbirds heading to southern Arizona and southern California.
They may only stay a night or two, but there usually are lots of them.
One day while Reggie and I are walking the mesa, we meet two women out walking also. That have a big, friendly black lab named Willow. In the conversation that follows I learn that Willow has been with them since she was a pup. They rescued her from a neighbor who didn’t want her and was going to shoot her.
Yeah, I know. Despicable.
Willow is 14-years-old now and is as friendly, mellow, and sweet as anyone could wish for in a canine companion. She and Reggie hit it off immediately. Willow’s tail wags as Reggie goes nuts around her.
I learn they are Canadians on their way to the Baja.
“With the lousy exchange rate with the dollar, we figure it will be cheaper to spend the winter in Mexico.”
Technically, the women aren’t snowbirds. They recently sold their house in Canada and are toying with the idea of living full-time in their RV. Of course, this information has me gushing, on and on, about how much I love the life of a vagabond!
The mesa has one road — a rocky, straight road, running its full length. I call it The Zombie Road.
“Why do you call it The Zombie Road?” you ask.
One of the guys I met shortly after Reg and I arrived a month ago, told me I could get a library card at the library in town and check out DVDs from the large collection there. (I did that and, let me tell you, a movie sure is nice to have when the nights are so long.)
This guy — I’ll call him Steve — shares with me that he spent years of his working life “staring at a computer screen all day, drinking cup after cup of coffee, writing code until my head felt like it would explode.”
Steve also reveals that he likes zombie movies.
“What is it with IT guys and zombies?” I ask, jokingly. He laughs.
Ever since then, whenever we approach each other while out walking I greet him with something like “Great day for walking The Zombie Road, eh?” because we probably do resemble zombies walking back and forth on this straight stretch over desert rock.
When Steve returns from a stint at the RV park, I greet him with “Hey, my favorite zombie has returned!”
Ah yes, fun on the mesa. And now it’s time to leave.
I want to show the photos of an approaching storm that I took a few days ago.
Part of the beauty and allure of the desert — a big part, in my opinion — are the dramas that frequently play across the sky. These photos aren’t great. I post them because I want you to imagine viewing one of those dramas (especially if you’ve never been to the desert).
Imagine standing under an enormous dark cloud moving quickly over you . . . .
Under this ceiling of dark cloud, you can see pale blue sky over the distant mountains.
Lightning. Thunder. Wind. Rain.
And after the storm . . . .
NOTE: I’m curious to read comments about the money exchange rate and its effect on travel in the United States this winter. Has it changed your plans? Are you seeing fewer snowbirds?
I need to go offline to hitch up and pack up. Bye for now! — Sue
THANK YOU FOR SHOPPING AMAZON FROM MY BLOG!
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