Thursday, February 22 (continued)
(I don’t have travel photos today because we were on a mission to cover a lot of miles.)
From Ajo the crew and I travel north to Gila Bend where we take Interstate-8 westward. I soon find myself fighting the push of a strong crosswind from the south. The Best Little Trailer hangs on tight and doesn’t sway, while I hang on tight to the steering wheel. The wind tries to shove us to the right and off the highway.
It takes constant focus, but we’re doing fine until . . .
About half-way to Dateland . . .
A humongous Class A with a toad hitched to its behind overtakes us in the left lane. I’m keeping our speed at 58-60 mph. I estimate the Class A is going around 70-75 mph, the latter being the speed limit.
About three-quarters past us, the Class A begins to drift with the wind. Into our lane. In a milli-second their toad — a Jeep — is inches from my door.
“HEY!”
I swerve to the right and we ride on the rumble strip until the RV/Jeep clears us.
I’m not a horn blower. I don’t think I’ve used the horn on a vehicle more than ten times in over fifty years of driving and in all sorts of conditions.
In this case, I hit the horn.
Maybe he forgot he has a Jeep attached. Maybe he’s not paying attention. Whatever, he needs to do better!
Shortly thereafter a semi-truck closes in on us, too. I notice its tires on the center line as it passes in front of us.
We need to get off this damn interstate! We’ll exit at Dateland and spend the afternoon and night with the trucks in that big, dirt parking area in back of the travel center.
I let out the crew for a brief walk-around in the parking lot, our heads bowed to the wind. Inside the travel center store I overhear the cashier tell a woman that RVers have to pay to park for the night.
What a racket.
This place is a wind tunnel. They know people don’t want to drive the interstate in wind. No. I’m not paying to stay here.
I buy a sandwich at Quizno’s next door and return to Reggie and Roger in the PTV. We have lunch and return to the interstate.
About halfway between Dateland and Yuma . . . .
About a mile ahead of us and about a mile to the north of us, off to the right, I spot a large dust devil. The thing is heading south toward the interstate, a-twirling as it goes, and it’s a big one. I estimate its diameter at 80-100 feet.
Now what are the odds of that giant dust devil and the PTV reaching a certain point on the highway at the exact same time? Long before we meet, I can see we’re on a collision course.
“HWOMP!”
It hits us broadside with a heckuva wallop, the windshield turns tan — zero visibility– and, just like that, it’s over. We’re out the other side in the all-clear, rolling along, easy as can be.
Sort of a metaphor for life.
Before reaching the Gila Mountains, we exit and pass cultivated fields on the zigzag shortcut across Dome Valley.
I don’t know what is in this field (next photo). It looks like a kind of brassica that has gone to seed.
Pretty!
At Route 95 north (the road that goes to Quartzsite) I assure the crew, “We’ll be home soon. It won’t be much longer.”
Understandably, the boys are restless.
At Imperial Dam Road, I pull over and let them out again. They’re excited and happy at a chance to explore. They also know that this isn’t our camp. We have to keep going.
About 18 miles south of Quartzsite, we make camp at Kofa National Wildlife Refuge.
Actually our camp is on Palm Canyon Road before the entrance to the refuge. It’s BLM land. We’ve camped here a couple times in previous years.
The sun is low.
It has been a long, windy, cold day. We hurry on a short walk. Shadows darken the mountains and spread across the desert.
I manage these few photos in the rapidly fading light.
In the morning we’ll make the short drive to Midland LTVA at Blythe.
You don’t know it, guys, but tomorrow you’ll play with your friends again!
rvsue
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