Monday, July 21 (continued)
At the sign “Anvil Draw,” I turn right and proceed across a desert landscape of sparse grass and sagebrush. The windows of the Perfect Tow Vehicle are open. The air moving into the PTV is too warm to provide much relief.
“We’ll find something soon. It won’t be long now,” I assure Spike and Bridget, as well as myself.
I pass up the first spur road.
Too obvious. Too easy. That’s where people will go.
I take the second spur to the right. As we bounce and jolt along the rutted, dirt road, I’m mindful of glimpses of bright, blue water to my left. The spur road breaks into more spurs. I stop the PTV in order to check to see if there’s a good campsite beyond the tamarisk that grows near the water.
“I’ll be right back.” I leave both front doors wide open and trek in the afternoon sun. Nope. Site is too small. Not enough space to turn around.
A few minutes later, I return, hot and weary, to the crew.
I drink some water and start up the PTV.
I repeat the process. Not good. Too sloped. The sound of the crew’s panting urges me on.
Another spur toward the water is short and I can see a campsite at its end. Well, that will be good enough. We can’t be looking forever.
The campsite is elevated above a beach.
I get out of the PTV and look down the cliff. No. Too dangerous. Wait a minute. . .
The road drops away from the campsite and curves downward around some tamarisk. I walk to where it opens onto a beach.
Oh, this is NICE! I take a moment to decide how I’ll position the BLT. Happily I hurry back to the crew, start up the PTV, and drive down to the secluded, beachfront campsite.
The water of the reservoir beckons.
Quickly I go around and open the side door. “You can get out now! We’re home!”
Bridget and Spike scramble out. I have my camera in hand because I know what’s going to happen next.
A classic Spike moment . . . .
“You, too, Bridget! Thatta’ girl! Isn’t this nice?”
The bottom is sand and flat shards of shale-like rock. I have my waterproof Keen sandals on. While standing in water up to my waist, I look at our new camp.
I put the crew back in the PTV and reposition the BLT.
I have a billion-dollar view out the big, back window. The shade tracks around the BLT from the awning area in the morning to the back of the BLT by mid-afternoon. The above photo was taken late in the afternoon, after I went for the last swim of the day.
“Well, Bridge, it looks like we’re going for a walk.” We stroll the empty beach together. Gulls squawk and laugh riotously.
Later as light dims, I’m in the lounger again enjoying the cool air.
Time for an important test.
I wait for some sign, any sign . . . waiting, waiting. With the passing of each minute, my happiness grows.
No bugs! No mosquitoes! Now I KNOW this is a perfect camp!
THANK YOU, RVSUE SHOPPERS,
FOR ENTERING AMAZON FROM MY BLOG!