Wednesday, February 7
The crew and I return from another exploration in Buenos Aires National Wildlife Refuge.
We’re hungry from a long walk!
Immediately I pull out the ingredients I need in order to griddle my main meal of the day. The boys munch at their bowls of kibble. Then I put them outside on the tether so they can be with me while I cook.
I’m almost finished preparing the meal when a truck towing a fifth wheel drives by our campsite. By the time I sit down in the camp chair with my plate on my lap, our new neighbors fire up their generator.
It’s one of those really noisy, cheapo generators.
I clean up and close up the outdoor kitchen, put Reggie and Roger inside, and carry my plate to the table inside the Best Little Trailer.
I close the door, the ceiling vent, and all the windows. This brings the noise down to a drone in the background.
Oh well, no sitting outside to watch the sunset tonight . . . .
Thursday, February 8
I awake to the drone of the generator.
There goes any chance of seeing wildlife around here . . . .
Rather than stay at camp cooped up in the BLT and feeling grumpy, I toss the crew into the Perfect Tow Vehicle, along with two bags of trash, and we head toward Arivaca.
On the way the Arivaca Road crosses a wide wash.
I glance up the wash to my left and spy the silhouette of a pronghorn’s head. The curve of his/her horns makes identification easy. The pronghorn is lying in the shade of the wash’s cutbank.
If I back up for a photo, he/she will get up and run . . . .
Further along, I see a deer.
It’s far away in a field and among some mesquite trees. I park the PTV and zoom in for a photo. It isn’t until I open the photo in my computer that I discover that there wasn’t one deer. There were two!
Nothing like a few sightings of wildlife to lighten my mood!
I’m singing out my open window, into the warm breeze (to the tune of Frere Jacques):
“Arivaca, Arivaca, Dormez vous? Dormez vous? Sonnez les matines, sonnez les matines, Ding, ding, dong. Ding, ding, dong ”
Reggie and Roger perk up.
“You like that, boys?”
Funny how the most appreciative listeners of my singing are canine. Actually they’re the only listeners appreciative of my singing.
Oh, well . . . .
A few miles before town we arrive at the waste disposal station.
Continuing into town . . .
Arivaca Mercantile is a tiny store.
Nevertheless, it possesses a surprisingly large variety of inventory.
I remark to the woman stocking shelves, “I visit a lot of small town grocery stores and, I do believe, this one is better than most . . . by far. You rival Wal-Mart with the choices you have.”
“Thank you. And our stock tends toward higher quality but still reasonably priced.”
I buy more flour tortillas. These are from Triunfo Bakery out of Tucson. At this rate I’m gonna’ become an expert on tortilla brands.
As I’m checking out, I ask the cashier where I might obtain water from a spigot. She invites me to use the one behind the store.
“Just don’t pump out a thousand gallons,” she adds, smiling pleasantly.
I remove the hose and fill eight, one-gallon jugs.
By the time the crew and I return to our campsite . . . .
More RVs! The Generator from Hell starts up again, right in time for my main meal of the day.
Gollee. If I wanted to listen to city noise, I wouldn’t have driven all this way to camp in a WILDLIFE REFUGE. I could’ve grabbed a camp chair, taken my plate, and sat down to eat under somebody’s window air conditioning unit.
Friday, February 9
Reggie, Roger and I are outside when a truck towing a toy-hauler moves in to the site next to us. I know darn well what’s going to come out of the maw of that beast.
“That’s it. Guess what, guys? We’re moving camp today. Did you hear me? We’re leaving.”
During our daily explorations we found several, very nice campsites.
However, they are on roads parallel to this one and every one has an entrance on Arivaca Road.
If we move to any of those sites there’s a real possibility that weekenders will move in nearby or they’ll be driving by in their ATVs. No, we need to leave this area entirely, find a campsite on a road that has no place for neighbors and no place for ATVers to congregate.
Checking the map in the refuge’s brochure, I find such a campsite on such a road.
Off we go to investigate!
There’s no time to waste because it’s Friday and weekend fun-lovers will arrive through-out the day.
Oh my, do we find a great campsite and it’s empty!
I hurry us back to the BLT, throw all our outdoor crap into the back of the PTV, toss interior stuff into drawers, shut the windows, hitch up, hook the chains and cables, remove the chocks, and . . . .
“We’re outta’ here!”
As I pass our neighbor-no-longer, he’s preparing to set off in his quad for some rollicking fun out in nature.
Turns out the arrival of the weekenders was a good thing.
Our new campsite is better than the one we left behind!
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