Change of Scenery

I reluctantly left my sweet little spot at Pecan Grove RV Park

 in Austin and headed East (actually south) on Texas Highway 71, toward the Gulf Coast. It is now Texas wildflower season, thank you Lady Bird Johnson, and the wide medians and shoulders bloomed with iconic bluebonnet, orange Indian paint brush,

 pinks, yellows and whites. Trees are leafing out in a slow sequence of greens. I enjoyed passing through smaller towns and cities like Bastrop and LaGrange, the stoplights  allowing a chance to admire the towns. As I do not travel more than 55 mph anyway, the non-Interstate roads don't particularly slow my pace. In fact, I much prefer to shunpike.

Once south of Columbus and I-10 the character of the landscape changed significantly. Out of the hill country now, flat, flat, flat, much poorer, starting to see homes built on stilts, one can easily imagine a hurricane slamming a large storm surge far inland. Closer to the Gulf, signs for hurricane evacuation routes. Starting to feel tropical, humid, vines taking over dead trees. First sighting of Spanish moss. First bridge sign calling the watercourse below a "bayou."  According to Wikipedia, a bayou is ". . . an extremely slow-moving stream or river (often with a poorly defined shoreline), or . . . a marshy lake or wetland. The name "bayou" can also refer to a creek whose current reverses daily due to tides and which contains brackish water highly conducive to fish life and plankton. Bayous are commonly found in the Gulf Coast region of the southern United States, notably the Mississippi River region, with the state of Louisiana being famous for them."

Guess I'm not in the desert anymore, Toto.

At the coast, I drove through Freeport, ugly as only an industrial port city can be. Traversing the area just at shift change, I had plenty of time to observe the surroundings. It looked just like New Jersey, but heavier on the petrochemicals. Crossed a tall, steep bridge over the Intracostal Waterway, something else to look up on Wikipedia. Fascinating!

After a day's drive, I arrived at San Luis Pass County Park, right at the tip of a barrier island on the Gulf. The campground is a de facto fishing village. Every RV parked here has large coolers and fishing paraphernalia around its perimeter. Upon checking in, I was asked if I liked to fish. I had to confess to never having been fishing, although my rejoinder that I liked to *eat* fish seemed to satisfy the question.

Texas Longhorn orange is giving way to LSU purple. The lilt of the accent is subtly different. The camp host here was born on this island and returns here for three months every summer to volunteer at the campground.

Humans aren't the only ones fishing around here. The birds, lots and lots of birds, are also having a feast.

I must have seen ten, maybe fifteen species of birds so far, many of which I can't identify. I can understand why the Gulf Coast is a mecca for birders.  Right now, the slough out my back window is being fished by a small white bird with a black head, probably a tern, who spots something in the water, tilts its head down to precisely locate its catch, hovers in position for a second or two, then dives straight down into the water. Its prey is too small for me to see, but sometimes it gives up right before the water surface, and gracefully does a lightening fast touch-and-go that an aircraft carrier pilot can only dream of emulating. They hunt way to fast for me to photograph.

Everywhere I've been in Texas, the spring birdsong has been a constant background accompaniment. I don't recognize most of the bird calls. Its hard to spot the specific bird, and even if I did, I don't usually know their species. Sometimes I try to mimic and answer a particular call. Its gratifying to hear my duet partner stop in confusion, perhaps wondering what's the matter with that other bird, then answer with, I swear, a question mark. Either that, or I'm really anthropomorphizing. Here at the coast it has gone from birdsong to birdracket. When they are quiet I can hear the roar of the open ocean surf in the distance. 

Spotted a great blue heron against my horizon, see him by the picnic table

patiently stalking something with its long neck outstretched. Having my binoculars at the ready, I watched it for quite awhile. Answering some signal, it flapped off majestically, a few feet above the water, and I was able to watch its flight for maybe 90 degrees before it landed further away on the beach. Beautiful!  I have newfound respect and appreciation for wildlife and bird photographers, and their equipment. I am not one of them.

If I knew how to make a soundtrack of this experience, I'd record the constantly racuous birds, sometimes quieter, and sometimes unanimously startled into a loud outcry. I'd record the roar of the surf.

However, when I put my binoculars down, I became instantly nauseous, motion-sick, from the blur. Rats! Hoping to mitigate my nausea I searched my pantry and devised a hot beverage based on these two items.

The larger container is a Chinese vegetable stock concentrate that I purchased on a whim at New Sang Chong market in Oakland, figuring that it would come in handy cooking in the RV. The smaller jar is grated ginger that I found at one of the grocery tents in Quartzsite, of all places. I've never seen it before. kTogether they made a nice salty broth laced with ginger that seemed to quell my stomach enough for me to go beachcombing in the afternoon.

I'll tell you about that tomorrow.          



 

Breaking Radio Silence

Sometimes I get all knotted up and descend into silence for awhile. Hiding underground, gaining strength for spring. Been there too long, and now need to come up for air, come into the light. Wild mixing of images there, sorry, but you get the point. 

I got out of town while SXSW was going on. I met Jeanne B at Inks Lake State Park where we hung out for a few days

freezing,

watching the lake change character,

hiking, reading, enjoying the solitude.

Then we went over to Jeanne B.'s parents house out in the country where we worked on lots of RV projects, listened to the birdsong, and watched the wildlife go by. Many thanks to George and Jan for their generous hospitality, timely, skillful assistance, and loaning of tools and supplies. Gotta get me some of that Goop!

Sunset over drought shrunken Lake Buchanan

So, the wildlife. Driving into Bluffton there was a sizeable flock of buzzards circling near the road. Didn't see the carrion, but there was enough to keep a couple three dozen buzzards interested. Several days later we were invited to a pig roast dinner at a neighbor's house and the mystery of the flocks of buzzards was solved. Apparently there is a local problem with too many feral pigs. People hunt them year 'round to keep the population in check. The big ones which aren't good for humans to eat are taken over to a large granite dome designated as the buzzard feeding area. Aha, this explains the buzzard flock I saw when I arrived. The little pigs are good enough to barbeque and eat. We enjoyed a delicious three piglet roast dinner at a lovely, hospitable Texas home of a neighbor.

I couldn't help but think that there is also a wild pig problem in Marin County, but I don't think anyone there is feeding them to the buzzards, or having backyard BBQs with the piglets in Ross. I tried to explain this, but I got blank looks. People like them their guns in these parts! One could easily purchase an arsenal for a small police department at Walmart.

Now back at Pecan Grove RV Park, enjoying the Austin blueberry in the salsa that is Texas.

Heading East, new territory!

Hoped to get an early start from Benson Friday, but instead, spent a lot of time making sure my tow setup was just how I wanted it. Do you blame me? By the time everything was done, gas purchased, I left Benson about 1:30 in the afternoon, aiming for Pancho Villa State Park in Columbus, New Mexico. 

It is the amazing Southwest again. The clouds make moving, dramatic black shadows on the vast views of mountains and plains. Worn rocky fantastical Dragoon mountains remind me of the Alabama Hills, near Lone Pine in California. I hated to bypass the Cochise Stronghold and Chiricahua National Monument. However, I've got a timeframe to get to Austin, and I don't want to use up my buffer days too early, in case I run into bad weather in Texas. Highway I-10 is not too bad, traffic is light.  

Leaving I-10 and heading abruptly south, there's a sudden change, a portal to another universe on Hwy 80, from giant trucks passing 55 mph me at 80+ miles per hour, to a deserted two lane country road. The scenery was of distant ranches, rangeland, dust raised by farm equipment. Cotton City, depressed, a grand name for what I actually saw. There were dried out wetlands, and fallow fields. An optimistic speed limit of 55, but I'm at 45, taking my half out of the middle to decrease the bouncing. Finally turned East on Hwy  9 very isolated, close to the border. No other cars or traffic, so I have poor sense of my speed. A few cars, a few Border Patrol vehicles. Suddenly, and with no obvious altitude increase, a sign for the continental divide, 4520 ft. Its all downhill from here, on the way to New Orleans. No telephone poles or fences in sight. The road follows a railroad that operated between 1882 and 1902 to haul copper ore from Bisbee to El Paso. 

Arrive at Pancho Villa State Park at deep twilight. Not fond of setting up in the dark. Retired to my blue cocoon for the night, thankful for automatic levelers, as it was windy.

Have discovered that wearing tight lycra running gloves to sleep helps my hands and twitchy focal dystonia fingers quiet right down. Each finger is wrapped in its own little Ace bandage, which helps to quiet the fingers. Hope this continues to work, as it is my aching hands that wake me up in the middle of the night. I had put the gloves on some days earlier for driving and liked them. I thought they would feel funny while sleeping, but they don't, they feel great. Weird, huh?

   

Once it was daylight, I could see that the park was pretty empty and pretty nice. Saw a roadrunner, but he was hard to catch on film, speedy little sucker!

Saturday morning was a lovely time of solitude, catching up on housework, correspondence and other paperwork. 

Went to the museum about this small war in our history, found it closed for lunch, but other travelers told me they were going to Palomas for lunch at the Pink House, just three miles away, across the border. Great idea, sounds like fun, glad I have my passport card along. The Pink House would be hard to miss, even in a dense fog. What a great place, a good concept well executed. It is a shopping heaven for Mexican crafts. I did a little gift shopping, fueled by the free margaritas they kept offering me. When I was done shopping, I went into the adjacent restaurant for some guacamole and chips, and to listen to the live music.  

 

A nearby table of seven saw me sitting alone, and Barbara came over to invite me to join them.  How nice, I picked up my stuff and moved right on over. Except that they were way ahead of me in margarita consumption. Fortunately Barbara was the designated driver. They were from El Paso, and they regularly drive over to Palomas to go shopping and have lunch. Friendly, nice folks, its amazing, they're everywhere!

Came home, ate dinner, stowed for tomorrow's early departure, and went to bed, having had one more margarita than I should have :-)  

  

Phoenix, Again!

Had an appointment last Friday, on my way back from Quartzsite, at Champs Family Automotive to fix the Tracker right rear axle seal, an ongoing problem not related to the I-10 accident, and diagnose and repair a vibration that occurred while stopped in Drive, also unrelated to the accident. Probably motor mounts. Fine. Bring it in early Friday, have the car back on Saturday, then take off South and East.

Except that on Saturday afternoon after the installation of new motor mounts, the vibration in the car was ten times worse than before, totally unacceptable. It was hard for this woman to say, no, that's not right, I'm bringing it back, but I did. We'd talk on Monday. Off to White Tank Mountain campground, discouraged, for the weekend to contemplate my schedule of driving to Austin.

On Monday morning, Champs gave me a deal. They wanted to keep the car until Friday. They would replace the motor mounts again at no charge, and if that didn't fix it, and it was the next possibility, the torque converter, they would only charge me for parts, not labor. Parts for a 2000 Tracker are scarce, and have to be overnighted in for timely repairs. How could I not agree. I went back to the motorhome subdued and still discouraged. If it took until Friday to do the repairs, I was going to have to haul a** to get to Austin before my friend arrives there to visit for President's Day weekend.

I spent Monday, Tuesday and Wednesday morning without a toad, getting around only in the motorhome, doing other errands and stocking up. Wednesday at about 11 am, my phone rang, and it was Champs, my car was ready. You could not have wiped the smile off my face. When I got there, it was immediately obvious as I turned the engine over that the pesky vibration problem was solved. I can't believe I had been putting up with this vibration all this time.

Apparently there are frequent enough "bad" batches of motor mounts. Champs sent for a second set of motor mounts that solved the problem. I have to give a big shout out to Champs Family Automotive. They did right by me big time, and fixed everything to my satisfaction, at no additional charge. I'm happy to recommend Champs  if you need auto or RV repair in the Phoenix area. They have a lift big enough for the Lazy Daze, and have a thriving RV service and repair business, as well as automotive and diesel service.

I was relieved that I'd be able to get to the Benson USPS office for a General Delivery pickup of my motorhome registration tags. I was able to leave Phoenix Thursday morning, heading for Benson. An uneventful drive, an immediate stop at the USPS, mail retrieved, and I was back at the Escapees Saguaro Co-op RV park for Thursday night. I had a friend to visit there, and they also have the best laundry room I've ever run across. I'd be on my way early Friday morning.

Well, not. I had lots of things I wanted to do. Clubhouse shower while laundry was washing, a good cleanout of my black tank, fill up with water, check and air up the tire pressure for ten tires, and the real time consumer, make sure my toad Surge Brake cable was properly adjusted. I wasn't going to leave until I felt that it was exactly how I wanted it, neither too tight to apply the toad brakes continuously, even slightly, nor too slack to allow the cable to flip forward, get caught, and cause the problem I had before. Oh, yes, and another call to the TPMS company for tech support to be sure I had all ten tire monitors operating as expected. And, gotta get gas. All this meant that I left the RV park about 1:30 in the afternoon, facing a 200 mile drive to my destination for the night. Which drive is the subject of my next post.

But, by golly, I was going to take my time, make sure everything was operating correctly, be deliberate and careful in my hookup procedures, because I'm heading into a new phase of my travels. Terra incognita. I'm going where I've never been before, in so many ways. I'm living in a new time zone, an alternate universe. Home is now exactly and only where I am right now. And it is a good place.  

Two weeks at Quartzsite.

Quartzsite,  what a strange place. It is a pop-up city in the middle of the desert.  It is dry, everything is dusty and mineraly. The topography is only somewhat obscured by all the RVs, cars, trucks and ATVs scattered randomly over the landscape. There is clear evidence that water flows everywhere, just not now. Washes and gullies of all sizes course randomly. The jagged rocks of the hillsides become smooth river rocks in the washes. The sand gathers in sand bars just like at the beach. Sandy rivulets alternate with a rock-hard aggregate of well, rocks, and dirt, almost like concrete. I think they call it caliche. There are frequent road signs warning "Do not cross when flooded." If the Dept of Transportation had to build a bridge over every wash, they'd run out of money quick. Instead, there's just a dip in the road providing a path for the water, and if the road washes out, its cheaper to fix the road than to build and maintain a bridge. This is all very fascinating to a coastal person.

It is dry and dusty and gritty. Even though I don't wear shoes into my RV, there is fine dusty dirt everywhere. The pet dogs upon being petted, puff out a cloud of dust. They seem to be very happy playing in the silty soil, chewing on sticks, and don't mind a bit plopping right down into the dirt when told to sit. It must be doggy heaven. They will all get baths when they get home.

The big RV show was big. Lots of vendors of all kinds. Thousands of RVers walking the tent, attention captured by skillful barkers, dogs in strollers, people riding carts. The big diesel pusher lifestyle seems to appeal to the older, more sedentary crowd. The companies actually selling RVs were all selling the giant rigs, motorhomes or fifth wheels. Very few little RVs in sight. Big, big, big.

On the periphery of the big tent is Kuehn Rd and Tyson Wells. Here there are many tool and suppply vendors under small tents or canopies. Everything is dusty. Almost everything is cheap, cheaper anyway. T-shirts, leather goods, jewelry, niche products like the GrillGuard, RV repair vendors, they all blurred together after awhile.

The Lazy Daze gathering was held at La Posa West, a section of the LTVA that was within walking distance of the big tent or Kuehn Road. At its peak, there were 35 Lazy Daze rigs gathered in an area off of Road 532. People came and went, so the total number of rigs must have been quite a bit more than 35, maybe 50 rigs all together. People were busy going to and from the tent deciding what to purchase. TPMS system pros and cons were debated extensively, and quite a few systems were purchased, encouraged by my experience with the Tracker front end blowout.

The nightly bonfire.

I love rocks.I can totally relate to "The Long Long Trailer." Twelve of us took a hike up to Crystal Mountain in the Kofa National Wildlife Refuge. It was rocky, nothing but rocks. Wierd rocks.

I was very glad to have my hiking poles. You are allowed to take rocks from this mountain. Getting them back downhill is the issue. You can find quartz crystals here. I found two little one. Very cool.

I'd like to see the wash at the foot of the hill when it has water in it.That, however, can be a dangerous pastime.

 
More rocks, and a tiny little barrel cactus that found its niche, and my foot for size comparison. This climb and descent was all rocks. I was glad I was with a group.

I tested my new GrillGuard with some chicken wings and grilled ratatouille. Glad to have the wind break to cook behind. Also cooked the tenderloin steak from the UofA Meat Lab. It was delicious. Vegans were coming back for seconds.

Our encampment finally got down to about six rigs, widely spaced little castles of solitude. I headed back to Phoenix for final (I hope) Tracker repairs, leaving only five Lazy Daze rigs to enjoy the quiet.

Dutch Apple Slaw

Dutch Apple Slaw

I have no idea why its Dutch.
It is a slaw, so everything should be cut up fairly fine.
The quantities are variable, to taste. Like red onions? Go for it. Allergic to sunflower seeds? Leave 'em out.
Curly endive is a sturdy green, so the salad lasts on a buffet. Its there in the lettuce section, you just may not be used to seeing it.

apples, finely diced *  3 medium
red onion, finely diced 1 small (or less)
curly endive, chiffonade ** 6 cups
vinaigrette 1/3 cup
grainy mustard 1 teaspoon
raisins 1/2 cup
sunflower seeds 1/2 cup
salt & pepper to taste

Mix everything together.

* How to finely dice apples: Stand the apple on its South Pole. Slice three slices of equal thickness off one side, toward the core. Turn the apple around and slice three slices off the other side. Then repeat on the remaining two sides, which will be smaller. Now you can easily dice each stack of slices into cute little raisin-sized squares. Leave the peel on, it adds nutrition and color to the salad. The core will have a little bit of apple left near the stem and blossom ends for you to nibble off. These are known as "cook snacks."

** Chiffonade means ribbons. Presumably you've washed and dried the lettuce. Put several leaves in a stack all the same direction and slice them across the leaves as thinly as you can. Voila, ribbons.

Use apple cider vinegar to make your own vinaigrette for a little flavor layering. Mix in the grainy or seeded mustard. Or you can use a store bought vinaigrette of your choice.

Accident aftermath.

All's well that ends well, except for my checkbook and except that there are still a few more things to take care of. The Tracker ABS is on the fritz (understandable) and the front wheels need wheel covers to shield the whatchamacallit center of the wheels from road debris. 

Upon my arrival at Roger's Half Acre at the BLM lands at Quartzsite, concerned Lazy Dazers streamed over to commiserate and see what happened. Everyone was so kind and supportive. And my cautionary tale is causing several other LD owners to reconsider their safety features.

The big RV show is in full swing at Quartzsite, known as Q for short, for obvious reasons. The RV show is in the "Big Tent" and its pretty big. There are plenty more RV related vendors outside the tent too, even if some of them are pretty tenuously related to RVing. My goal at the big tent was to research and purchase safety related items that my very scary experience pointed out to me that I needed. 

First was fire extinguishers, which I had been wanting anyway. I purchased three Fire Fight Products Class A and B extinguishers from Mac the Fire Guy. One for the kitchen, one in the RV driver's side door pocket, and one for the Tracker. I try not to have nightmares, realizing how extremely lucky I was that my vehicles didn't catch fire on the side of the road. 

Second purchase was a TPMS (Tire Pressure Monitor System). If I had had a TPMS it would have alerted me to a loss of tire pressure, and an increase in tire temperature long before the passing motorist was able to get my attention. I would have had much more time to react, had more options of where to pull over, had much less risk of fire, and much less damage to the Tracker. Even though the horse had already left, I decided to close this particular barn door, and purchase the system. My experience has more than a few of my fellow Lazy Dazers running over to the vendors at the tent and getting their own systems.

Third purchase was a Progressive Industries Power Surge Guard, hard wired into my rig. The portable ones are less expensive, but they are prone to getting stolen, or forgotten by careless owners. Campgrounds, particularly older ones which are the kind I like, commonly have power supply problems, low voltage or power surges primarily, which can damage all of the electronics in one's motorhome. These days, most of the RV systems have some circuit board somewhere in their innards. This is a problem I do not wish to encounter, but when I do, the surge guard will shut off power to the rig rather than let bad power get through. 

Speaking of which, my fourth purchase was a new ignition control board for the water heater. Yes, my water heater wouldn't light, even after a thorough cleaning (thanks, John), and it was clearly an electrical problem. Time for a new circuit board, and now its working fine. 

By now my checkbook is bleeding heavily, and my credit cards are melting. But, there is one more thing that I "need" that is only available at Q. It is a grill or burner windscreen for outdoor cooking. My previous attempts at outdoor cooking have been hampered by wind, and when is it not windy at campsites? I have a propane grill, and a butane single burner which both need shielding. I'd been cursorily looking in the Bay Area, but was not able to find anything suitable for camping. So I sprung for a GrillGuard. This thing is beautiful. The man who invented and markets it used to do assembly for Boeing, and it shows. The alminum sheets are heavy duty, the fastening system is elegant, there are no sharp edges, and the craftsmanship is impeccable. I've avoid sauteing in the confined space of my rig kitchen, but now I'll be able to rock my heat sources outside, where they belong.

The first purchases will do their jobs quietly, and I hope I don't need them. But, woohoo, now I can cook outside! Good eats to follow, and yes this might turn into a food blog, you never know!