Monday, April 11
Roosevelt, Arizona
“We can’t go today. It’s too nice to leave.”
I scrap the plan to break camp.
We can stay another day. We don’t reach the 14-day limit until tomorrow. If it rains like the forecasters say, well, that’s okay.
“Whoa! Whatcha’ see up there, Reg?”
~ ~ ~
I could write several more posts about this camp.
I have loads of photos and things to write about . . . .
One day a rancher stops by our camp and introduces himself. We stand at the edge of the bluff looking down at his cattle while we talk.
Our boondock is inside the 60 square mile area of national forest that defines his ranch.
He runs 450 cattle here.
“I’ve got cows up in the mountains. These yearlings you see around here . . . I wean them off their mommas and then about 150 of them make their way up into the mountains and find their mommas again.” He shakes his head.
He tells me he’s the fourth generation ranching on this land.
“That’s my house up there,” he says, pointing. “My wife and I have five kids, a girl and four boys. My twin boys are 16 now. Ya’ know? They don’t care about getting their driver’s licenses. They’d rather come home and ride horses. They’re always doing something with horses, breaking colts and so forth.”
After a pause he adds, “My kids have never had a neighbor.”
“It sounds like you have a strong family,” I remark.
“Yes, it is strong,” he replies proudly.
~ ~ ~
Another day the crew and I ride in the Perfect Tow Vehicle down a spur road.
I park and we get out to walk. We pass two nice sites (one is shown below) and then the road forks.
“Let’s go this way.”
We turn to the right and discover a campsite that is occupied by a man with a van.
He’s sitting outside and sees us approaching.
“Hello!” I call out with a wave.
When he responds in kind I ask, “May we come over?”
“Sure!” he says.
We introduce ourselves. His name is Bob.
While we chat Bridget and Reggie wander around close by.
Suddenly Reggie yips.
“Oh, no!” I pick him up and hold him, belly up. He has cholla stuck on his back legs!
“Do you have needle-nose pliers” I ask.
Bob pulls out the cholla spines. Reggie is a brave boy.
He doesn’t move or make a sound.
“Congratulations, Reggie Man. It’s official. You are now a full-fledged desert boondocker!”
~ ~ ~
The crew and I enjoy our last full day at our boondock among the cacti in bloom.
Every day more blossoms appear.
I think we are leaving right before the peak. Even so, I’ve been blessed with more beauty than I ever imagined we’d find on our return to Roosevelt Lake.
I watch the familiar black birds riding the thermals near “our” bluff and reflect upon this camp.
I recall the times I heard a covey of gambrel quail, the road runner who kept himself hidden in the brush, and the “wow birds” who always made me smile.
The constantly changing sky, puffy, white, children’s-book clouds, ominous black clouds, the power of a thunderstorm hitting us on this bluff.
Also the morning I open the door and startle five deer from the edge of our camp. The sounds of coyotes during the night, of course. The bees working on the creosote blooms each afternoon.
Oh yeah, and the turkey vultures . . . .
~ ~ ~
“C’mon, you two. Let’s take a ride.”
We motor over to Windy Hill Campground.
I have one more Tonto Pass ($8) left. I hang it from the rear view mirror before throwing our trash in a dumpster, filling up water jugs, and taking a shower at the solar shower house in Coati Loop.
Back at camp, I pack up the outdoor room before we go inside for the evening.
I’ve already folded up Bridget’s new car and placed it behind the driver’s seat in the PTV. I toss in my camp chair, the doggie beds, and Reggie’s armadillo toy. I pull up the stakes. Lastly I bungee the two patio mats and toss them into the back of the PTV.
There. In the morning I’ll secure the inside and hitch up. The coffee is made and the crew’s chicken is ready for their breakfast. We’ll make an early start.
rvsue
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