Saturday, November 9
It’s almost noon before I unhitch the Best Little Trailer from the Perfect Tow Vehicle in preparation for a trip into Quartzsite.
Bridget and Spike are always thrilled to be thrown into the PTV. Bless their hearts. I guess they assume they’ll have a wonderful walk in an interesting place. Little do they know today it’s a quick errand trip with no surprises for them.
First place of interest is a thrift store.
A cheerful lady responds to my inquiry about books. “Paperbacks are fifty cents. Hardbacks, a dollar.” I pick out two paperbacks.
Next I drive across the street to Quartzsite General Store.
Two water vending machines guard the entrance. I remove ten one-gallon jugs from the back of the PTV and fill them up ($2.00). Inside the store I pluck two red peppers and one green from the produce department, along with a trio of bananas.
When I return to the PTV, the heat is oppressive.
“Okay, guys. We’re going home where it’s cool.”
Later, as dusk approaches, Bridget and Spike bark wildly as they race to meet a man and his small, white dog approaching. I saw this pair walk by our campsite the same time last night.
Since I can’t stop Spike by calling him, I chase after him.
This brings me right up to the gentleman. I explain Spike’s deafness so he doesn’t think I’m a complete fool. I introduce myself and he tells me his name is Vim and he’s from Vancouver Island.
Together we watch the crew and his dog get acquainted.
“Is that your rig over there?” I ask. (The Class A in the photo below)
“Yes, that’s it,” he replies. He (and I presume his wife) visit the Southwest for six months every year. We discuss the horrors and tenacity of mice. He recently went through the ordeal of ridding rodents from inside his motor home. They were under the couch and would come out at night to eat kibble right out of Miss Muffy’s (or whatever the heck her name is) dish.
Sunday, November 10
I wake at dawn and peek out the window. Whoa . . . Look at that sky. I’m so glad I’m a morning person. I run out and snap photos.
Sometimes I don’t like Picasa and Photoshop. Photo editing makes the real thing — when it’s spectacular — seem fake. On my honor I tell you I did not do anything to these sunrise shots. That’s the way the desert looks at sunrise.
As soon as it’s light, a truck with camper shell pulls up and parks right in front of our campsite.
A man and woman get out.
They proceed to pull stuff from the back of the pick-up . . . clanking around buckets, bins, shovels, rakes, a small table. Hmm . . . prospectors. Of course, if there’s any gold it most likely is at my campsite.
When Bridget and Spike go out the door and discover intruders, they do what dogs do.
They run toward them and bark. I don’t chase after them because I know they’ll stop barking and make friends with the people faster than I can corral them back to our door.
However, instead of greeting the crew, the man hollers toward my open door.
“I’d appreciate it if you’d put your dogs on leashes.” Spike and Bridget are wandering around him, clueless, sniffing his truck as he says this.
I step to the open door and return his greeting.
“I’d appreciate it if you wouldn’t park next to my camp.” And with an expansive wave of my arms out the door, I add, “It’s a great big desert out here.”
No answer.
Bridget is already heading back to me as I walk over. I pick up Spike and carry him the short distance back to our camp. Sheesh. First they set up shop at our campsite at daybreak and then he tells me what I should do with my dogs.
The crew and I go for a long walk.
The morning light is wonderful, but only for a short time.
The photos for this day are taken in that light or shortly thereafter when suddenly the desert dims temporarily.
White clouds gather like the folds of soft linen across the sky.
“We’ve gone far enough. Let’s go back and have some breakfast.”
Throughout the day I sit in my lounge chair reading a book, interspersed with short housekeeping tasks.
The lounge chair is on the shady side of the BLT. It’s facing the side of their truck. I ignore them and they ignore us. They shovel and tap at rocks in the wash, all day long.
Spike and Bridget sense that there’s no love to be found over at that truck. They don’t venture anywhere near them all day.
Mostly Spike and Bridget snooze in their beds near my chair. At one point I look up from my book and have to chuckle at the sight of Bridget.
She’s halfway between the BLT and their truck, sitting, motionless.
She sits there staring at their truck, as only Bridget can stare, for quite some time. I can’t see her face but I’ve been the object of that stare many times. That look can drill a hole in your head or flatten a tire. Way to go, Bridge. Excellent display of passive-aggressiveness . . .
After several hours of their picking and tapping, I look up again from my book.
I said the crew stays close to the BLT all day. That’s not entirely true. Without me realizing it, Spike has taken off. I see him lift his leg on a small creosote bush a few yards from their truck. Oh, my. This is too good. The man is in the wash, leaning on his shovel, watching. Spike finishes the job and, without so much as a look back, trots over to me. I can’t help but giggle.
“Spike, you do me proud, boy,” I tell him, smiling and stroking his back. “You do your mama proud.”
rvsue
THANKS FOR SHOPPING AMAZON HERE!
Here are a few samples of recent purchases by readers of this blog:
Essential Formulas Dr. Ohhira’s Probiotics, Original Formula
Thermos Nissan Thermal Cookware
Natural Balance Canned Cat Food, Salmon and Green Pea Recipe
Flexi Explore Retractable Belt Dog Leash, 26-Feet Long, Supports up to 110-Pound
Cleanwaste GO anywhere Waste Kit (50-Kits)
“REAR VIEW MIRROR”
June 13, 2013, I wrote about our mountain camp in Utah and posted photos of the wildflowers.
