The Tragically Hip

Greetings from the hot and sunny Shuswap:

With temps getting quite summery and the lake now definitely up in the comfort zone, it seems a shame to leave for a month or more. Such is the case, however, as a cancellation has cropped up on the hip replacement assembly line at UBC Hospital. At one point, I had had a glimmer of hope to join this program but that was extinguished when my surgeon filled his quota without me. Anyway, the call came in the other day and now I go under the knife July 6th. The surgeon told me that he would like to see me out of the hospital in two days following the procedure. Why everyone else gets 5 days complimentary room and board and I am limited to two is a mystery. Hopefully, my pick-up crew will be available by the 9th or so and can ferry me to Hugh Landerkin’s place on Gordon Head near Victoria, where I hope to spend a week or two in convalescence. From there, I will pass some time at my mother’s until I can drive and get myself back to the Shuswap (possibly 6 weeks but likely less, one hopes).
I have decided to skip the annual visit to Ponoka, as timing gets a little short for me to go all directions at once. I shall miss seeing friends at the Cameron/Vaughn barnyard campground, the Ponoka Stampede and some golf. Unfortunately, this also means passing up on the Green’s (Jordy and Margaret) at their farm near Rocky Mountain House for their 20th anniversary extravaganza (mortgage burning?).
Anyway, in the long run, all should work out and I’ll be able to put on my ski boots next Spring. My apologies to the few of you who had planned to visit during the period of time that I shall be away but, the cabin is still here, the deck is available, the lake beckons and my flowers might need watering, so anyone is welcome – just call me first (the cabin number - (*** *** ****), forwarded to my cell phone when I’m away) should get me except when I am in hospital July 6th to 9th / 12th.
JW

JW on slickrock

 

Darch and JW on Flat Pass Trail

The Monuments Mittens and Merrimack

Dave and Lori at open mine shaft

 

THe Watkins with RV Plomosa 2 Camp

 

March 26th - Pilot RV Stanfield OR
N 45 45.888 W 119 12.463
It’s been a long time since I wrote anything on the computer - even my log from which this message and the Golden Falcon blog get updated. This is surely a function of my hectic lifestyle combined with almost no free days to sit down and tap away on the computer. This message is coming from the Pilot RV Park in Stanfield Oregon, my penultimate (The Omak Walmart being the last) stop before crossing the border.
At the time of writing the last e-mail, I was still in Arizona near Bouse. On March 13th, I pulled up stakes and headed for Moab, via Prescott National Forest, Flagstaff and Monument Valley. On the way, I stopped at the Bouse County Park to dump 6 weeks of black tank effluent (sewage) – this to lighten the load and improve my fuel consumption statistics for the mostly uphill route. My thought was to pass along #60, #71 and then #89, through Prescott to join up with I-40 which leads to Flagstaff, then get back on 89 for the northward trek. The Prescott road from Kirkland Junction was one of the twistiest ones that I have driven, highly scenic and , if one is not in a hurry, then highly recommended (not, however, if one is over 40’ in length). Prescott is an attractive small city at about 6500’ – there was snow all over the place from the storm of the last weekend but the road itself was fine. One day earlier and I might have had to contend with over a foot. Because of cool temps (29° and dropping through Flagstaff), I figured that I might as well keep on moving until getting somewhere a little lower and, hence, a little warmer. Monument Valley, where I ended up at the Mitten View Campground (N36 58.865 W110 06.881), is at 5600’ but temps levelled out a little below freezing and all was well. I stayed two nights and took the 17 mile scenic tour of Monument Valley in the truck on my free day. This place is incredible with buttes and mesas rising from the desert floor in huge red sandstone formations. The cliffs are sheer and rise up to 1000’. Mitten View is on the Navajo Tribal Park property and is run by the Indian band. The Visitor Center and end of the road are right next door (another $5.00 charge) with gift shop and restaurant (closed). They sell locally made Navajo rugs in the shop and have them displayed on the walls. The price range for these went up to $12000.00, though there were some bargains, none bigger than a queen sized blanket, for $8000.00 – $9000.00. Navajo blankets, an excellent purchase for campers, were $45.00. I was tempted but don’t really need a blanket.
With cool nights, I though that I would ration battery power by using the generator, since the furnace might have had to operate (at minimum heat) just to keep the water lines thawed. Monument Valley is a very impressive place and will likely be a regular stop on future journeys.

I got to Moab, part way up eastern Utah, on March 15th and settled into Ken’s Lake, a BLM campground near a waterfall coming off the red cliffs and located some 8 miles south of town. On Saturday, my friend Darch Oborne from Merritt, BC, arrived with his friend Howard Kelly. The plan was for them to camp in tents, use the trailer as a base of operations (a term chiefly involving food, beer and rum components). The campers survived two nights of hard ground, cool temps and general hardship before making an executive decision to move into a camping cabin at Portal RV, one of the commercial parks in Moab. To be sociable, I packed up the trailer and joined them. This was probably a good move, since Howard is the next best thing to a non-biker and seeks his entertainment on the Internet playing poker – this, in addition to truck-shuttling the two of us to our various bike ride departure points. I have been to Moab before and was well aware that most of the rides were at the upper limits of my competence and general state of fitness. There are no easy trails in Moab. Everything involves a climb of a thousand vertical feet or so with trails down ranging from slickrock with ledges to cliffside singletracks with every imaginable hazard, including, but not limited to, disappearance over the edge with a landing anywhere from 500 to 1000 feet below, a manoeuvre for which even the most expensive helmet fails to prevent instant death. For those who have been to Moab, the run names might be of interest. We did Porcupine Rim, Amasa Back - with a return along the “insanely” treacherous Jackson’s Trail, Gold Bar Rim, a trip of 27miles in all - steep climbs followed by the equally notorious, vertigo-inducing”, Portal Trail. We also rode Flat Pass, which isn’t flat at all, but happened to be near Ken’s Lake and was therefore convenient. To Moabians, these are all “epic” rides. Since I walked most of the steep stuff, my epic was really just a question of survival. Midweek, I decided to take a “day off”, since I was getting worn out. This was a good opportunity to take Howard for an “easy” ride. On the map, I had spotted a short, “green” category trail called Round Mountain. The map made no mention of the fact that it was for jeeps and ATVs but definitely not for bikes, since most of it was surfaced with loose cobblestones and involved quite steep climbs into and out of several deep gullies. Even though Howard pitched off his bike about five times and ended up covered in blood, I’m sure that this ride will go down in his books as being “memorable”, if not “epic”. Luckily, my trailer is equipped with vast quantities of Hydrogen Peroxide and bandages of every description, so we managed to put Howard (I was going to say Humpty) together again without too much mess. Darch had met one of our campground hosts who offered to act as guide. On the one trip that I joined, we still wouldn’t be back in camp today if not for the local knowledge. Anyway, that’s Moab; a good time was had by all.
We left Moab yesterday, March 25th, with Darch and Howard opting for a two day push back to Merritt, me choosing the more sedate route, planning to take about five days, of which this is the second. Yesterday afternoon, I was just pulling in to Twin Falls, Idaho, for fuel and then a night in the parking lot at a Flying J Truck Stop, when, all of a sudden, an opaque red cloud of dust blew in, obliterated almost all visibility, covered everything, including the entrance to the service station with a layer of dust and threatened to blow over the canopy of the station – under which I was hiding. This dust soon turned to rain and we had a heavy downpour for a while with high winds that lasted throughout the night. I was thankful that the timing was such that I was reasonably well protected at the Flying J rather than out on the highway. My radio station interrupted whatever it was broadcasting to give a few beeps and then an emergency message saying that winds of 70 mph (over 110 kph) were expected and that all semis and RVs should get off the road. I’m still upright, as is the trailer, though the nerve-calming rum and coke that I served myself, once I got set up, managed to slop over the table as the trailer rocked and rolled in the wind.
Unless I get diverted, I should make it home by the 28th after which the annual tussle with my water pump will likely occupy much of the following week – more on that later.

From Plomosa Road Camp 2 March 8th, 06

March 8th - still at Plomosa Road Camp 2
Hello All:
Dave and Lori Watkins, my friends from Saskatchewan (Lake Louise alumni 78’-79’) have come and gone in their motorhome (with VW camper toad). They discovered me with little difficulty using the GPS coordinates that I had provided – this despite the fact that Dave’s GPS reads every location off to the west by about 50’ from that given by my GPS. We enjoyed a three day visit during which a couple of bike rides, combined with geocaching (found G09, 10 & 13), filled in our time and gave all present plenty of exercise. One day, we did almost 15 miles, found three GO-caches and visited the Southern Cross Mine shaft. Their motor-home (1991 Holiday Rambler) has plenty of optional features, including an ice maker, bar fridge, built-in blender and various other components, all of which Dave keeps operating on his inverter and three 12V batteries. Something does not quite compute for me in terms of amps in and amps out but, it seems to work. He can always fire up his big generator if the batteries need some charging. They left from here for Lake Havasu to see the Western Pyrotechnics display of fireworks, one of the largest in the US. I decided not to go for the two hour drive but it might have been interesting.
I got the truck serviced in Parker on the 17th. Dave had mentioned that I should have the service people check the nitrates in my anti-freeze. Apparently, a lack of them can cause the motor to cavitate, thus damaging the cylinder walls. I have never heard of this before and the mechanic at Parker was unsure as well. He said that they check the specific gravity, so maybe that does the same thing?
The weather has been staying mostly clear, though there was one night with a bit of spattering recently – not enough to convince the flowers to make a showing, but….the thought was there.
A few days ago, I went in search of the GO-cache (G06) at an area known as Four Peaks, off to the NW. I found the exact co-ordinates at a Game Water enclosure set up by the wildlife people but could not locate the Cache. Since then, I have made a return trip to the site and did find the Cache – inside the fenced enclosure which had, I thought, been erected to keep people like me out. Feeling guilty about being co-opted into this illicit activity, I decided that a letter of protest to the GeoCache Website might be in order. On the way home, I passed by a monument to the Bouse Fishermen (not sure what that is all about since there isn’t a drop of water for miles around), an intaglio on a rock pedestal in a fenced area in the middle of the desert. I also climbed a small hill to discover G0 14. In all, this loop was just under 20 miles – a good day’s work. In addition, I made a loop (15 miles) to the Jewel Mine, on the side of the next valley east from the Southern Cross Mine. This is another unprotected shaft that seems to drop down a long way, judging from the rock I tossed. On another day, I climbed back to the Twin Arch Mountain (hill) for a return attempt at discovering the G0-Cache (G08) up near the top (my initial failure in the sport). This, I have now accomplished, so the overall success rate is improving.
I have been going up to the town of Parker for Internet access, groceries and other shopping purposes, including getting new brake pads for the bike. In anticipation of my visit to Moab in a couple of weeks, I had better get a grip on things, particularly the back wheel, if I want to get down some of those trails in one piece. Parker, on the Colorado River is, actually, a couple of miles further to drive to than Quartzsite but more convenient for shopping and wireless Internet access at the library there.
Darch Oborne, my friend from Merritt, has now confirmed that he and another friend, Howard Kelly, will meet me in Moab on the 18th or 19th. They are bringing tents and will camp with me at Ken’s Lake, about 7 miles south of town (N38° 29.107’ W109° 25.750’).
I have been pondering my best route north from here and think that the road through Prescott and the Prescott National Forest might be interesting. On the map it looks extremely tortuous and has elevations over 6000’, though I suspect there will be no snow. Rather than going through Sedona and on to Flagstaff (over 7000’), my option might be to go north up # 89 through the Forest to I 40, then over to Flagstaff via Williams.
My nearest neighbour here at PlmRd2, whom I had not met even though they are only 100 yds away and have been here as long as I have, came over the other day and told me about the miracle Asthma cure for him and arthritis cure for his wife that they had discovered down in Mexicali, in Mexico across the border from Calexico. He said that a doctor there, who also practices at the Mayo clinic, was able to provide medications not available in the U.S. and that the symptoms of both their ailments simply disappeared. Maybe that’s what I should consider if the hip program in BC doesn’t proceed apace.
The holding tanks have now been operating for 5 weeks since the last dump trip, so I’m hoping they will hold out until I actually make the move north in about a week. This standard of waste management is achieved only by tossing the dish water out in the bushes and visiting neighbouring cacti for all but the most pressing of washroom engagements. I could just let the grey water go in a crisis (allowed on BLM lands) but prefer the challenge of pushing my system to its limits.
Time of departure from here is a little uncertain, since I will be into cooler climes and higher elevations as soon as I leave. I am contemplating a stopover on the way somewhere near Monument Valley, on Navajo Indian land in both southern Utah and Northern Arizona. This is an area of huge monolithic rock formations rising a thousand plus feet from the desert floor. I might also return to the Needles District of Canyonlands National Park for a day or two to retake some of the five rolls of film that didn’t turn out two years ago when I first visited the area. Anyway – lots to think about, so I had better head for the library to send this message.
Incidentally, I have included a photo of the Twin Arch hill, just so that you will get an idea of the types of places that people hide their Geo-caches. G08 was right up top between the two arches.
From the news, an item struck my eye as it had to do with the Chinese aerial skiers. Apparently they don’t know about or, for reasons known only to themselves, don’t wear, mouth guards. Often, when landing, the neck gets snapped hard into the snow of the jump outrun and tongues, presumably wagging ones, have been detached. According to USA Today, this occurred in Turin a few weeks ago. Should be no complaints from that particular competitor – at least, not verbal ones!
Keep in touch
JW

From Plomosa Road Camp 2 Feb 14th 2006

Feb 14th, 2006
Greetings from:
Plomosa Road Camp 2 (Plm Rd 2) N33 49.633 W114 03.145
Entrance from Highway (Plm Rd 2 Ent) N33 49.486 W114 03.490

On Jan 31st, I moved NE up Plomosa Road a few miles to this new campsite area and rejoined Ted Webber and Connie) who are camped about 150 metres away. For those trying to track me down, or locate me on Google-Earth, this camp is east off Plomosa Road (AKA the Bouse Quartzsite Highway) at a point half way between the 11 and 12 mile markers. Cell phone service here seems to switch between an analog signal and a digital one, both fairly strong. I don’t know what’s up with that but it works, so that’s all that matters. Since arriving, I have been to Bouse to visit the new library and check e-mail there (no wireless yet discovered in Bouse); also the Bouse Community Park for water and dumping ($7.00), been to Parker to the library there (good wireless signal), checked out the Arch Creek Camp (N34 10.504 W114 22.629), north of Highway 62, on the California side of the river (OK but a little exposed on a high ridge, so not that attractive) and watched the Parker 450 Desert Road Race as the circuit came within about two miles of Bouse A pall of dust hung over much of South-West Arizona following this exercise; it was noisy but reasonably exciting as high powered cars and trucks bounced their way along the track. On the way home from the race, I dropped in to see the Bouse Community art show where, surprisingly, some fairly well-known (according to the lady in the library) artists were displaying their work.

To the best of my knowledge, Bouse is known for little (or, perhaps, nothing) other than the fact that General George Patton had a tank division training camp in the area sometime prior to, and during, WW II. Interestingly enough, Patton’s presence may have cleared up one small mystery that has been concerning me. On the maps that I download into the GPS are shown some parallel dotted lines resembling a septic field but marked as trails. I have ridden this area and found few passable trails but rather, evidence of heavy machinery clearing patches of desert. It turns out that George’s tanks practiced boulder clearing here as an exercise – presumably helpful once they arrived in the ETO and had to clear rubble from the streets in bombed-out towns.

On one bike trip, I was 3.5 miles from camp when a loud bang alerted me to the fact that the rear tire on the bike had blown out its sidewall. Since I carry a spare tube but not a tire, I had to push the casualty back to the trailer, yellow anti-puncture slime squishing all the way. Luckily, enough daylight remained to see the trail. I’m not exactly sure how best to carry a spare tire with me on the bike but may have to consider this in the future. I have since replaced the tire with a new one from Herb’s Hardware In Quartzsite.

A couple of trips to the market in Q and the hip is rebelling. Walking around the exhibits in this giant flea market for hours is far harder on it than riding the bike. On my second foray into town, I picked up a shade screen to go on the front of the main awning. This will cool things down during hot weather but is too shady for now. With all the traffic and pedestrians, driving and parking in Q is very uncomfortable. Line-ups at the sewer and water stations (i.e The Pit Stop) have been enormous. At the wash (dry river bed) on the west side of the RV Show area, people, attempting to park as closely as possible to the action (mostly ex-Lake Louise skiers, I would imagine), were getting stuck in the loose sand and gravel, so I eased the truck along and managed to stay on top. With RV and Craft shows now over, the desert around Q has thinned out a little. There are plenty of people still around to see the gem and rock shows, plus various other exhibitions that keep the place busy until mid-March but the zoo atmosphere of late January has moderated.

A couple of days ago, new tire shining brightly, I set off on an expedition to the area near Mt Ibex, at 2750’ the highest peak in the area. Near its base, there are quite a few trails leading off to various mines, and, for that matter, to dead ends. At one point near the Southern Cross Mine, I met some men who were rappelling down into the nearly-vertical shaft (approx. 12’ diameter and 80° pitch). They told me that this particular pit went down about 300 – 400 feet. They had run out of rope and were planning their next move. Part of the afternoon had, apparently, been spent in clearing a crawl hole through a pile of debris that was obstructing the shaft at the 40’ level down from the surface. After making the gap, down they went, at least until the rope ran out, after which Prusiks (rope climbing knots, or in this case, mechanical devices made by Petzl) were used to climb back up. Falling objects (rocks, timbers etc) from 250 feet or more was of huge concern to these guys but did not deter them from enjoying their fun.

On my way back to camp, I decided to take a faint trail not recognized by the GPS, since it appeared to lead me in the right direction. With my customary navigational aptitude, the trail disappeared after I was far enough along not to want to retrace my steps and I ended up with a significant cross-country trek (always a mistake in this terrain) to get back to my original trail. Riding across one small draw, I ran into a large stone with the front tire and catapulted off the bike into a pile of rocks. The helmet saved my noggin and nothing else seemed too badly damaged, so I carried on, thankful that I had dodged another bullet. A couple of days later, as I was about to go for a short ride, I had to fix three punctures in my front tire, evidently just another message from the desert that travel anywhere off the beaten path can be perilous.

I have been spending some time lately, attempting to figure out the electrical loads in the trailer – this with a view to calculating the amperage draw of each individual appliance, adding them up and comparing them to the amount of input that I get from the solar panels. As a test subject, I was using my portable radio and somehow managed to blow something, with the result that it no longer works on the 12 volt system but does still operate on AC. I can find no fuse for the DC, so may have fried a diode or some equally critical component. I can use the inverter to power AC but that seems a wasteful way, meaning the use of more power than necessary with which to listen to Radio Free Quartzsite. I am going to seek advice from the solar shop in Q and see if there is an economical method of hooking up a meter to do the job. One recently noted and interesting phenomenon is that my meter reads the main trailer inverter as outputting 76 volts, the small inverter in the truck gives 98 volts. Ted Webber’s motorhome and inverter reads 109 volts – all with the same voltmeter, so something is awry. I am aware that the modified sine wave current produced by inverters can misrepresent actual voltages (because of the wave shape) so am not prepared to panic – yet! This is another reason to get some advice from the solar/battery guy. Since writing the above, I have made my trip to Q and, after hunting around, bought a small inverter (150 watts) at Discount Solar- this for use with the radio while I am restricted to AC power. It makes the radio hum on weak signals, which means that my favourite oldies station in Q is unavailable from the present location. Otherwise, it seems to work OK and uses only a fraction of an amp in power (alone), more with the radio on. I preferred the system with direct 12 V connection (better signal and less power usage) and hope, someday, to get that resolved. The kid at the local Radio Shack sounded knowledgeable as he speculated that I probably blew a diode ( I think that my radio contains about a billion) – almost impossible to track down with a meter, so I may be stuck with the situation as is or until I get another radio.

Dave and Lori Watkins, former Lake Louisers who now farm in southern Saskatchewan, are coming by on the 15th with their motorhome en route back home. I have given them the coordinates both for the camp site and entry off Plomosa Road, so they should have no trouble getting here. Ted Webber and Connie are still across the wash and their friend, Cline, who I met at Plomosa Road Camp 1, arrived from where he had been boondocking on Ogilvy Road west of Yuma. He has since departed for greener pastures. He said that they had suffered high winds down there whereas, here, it has been relatively calm. Ted Webber may move over to the Pegleg BLM camp area at Borrego Springs in about a week. It is in the wrong direction for me and certainly out of my path if I decide to return home via Moab next month but, I’ll think on it before making up my mind. Another option for returning home would be to go back up the Oregon Coast, a trip that I did several years ago. If that were the case, then Borrego would make a good staging point.

The following may only appeal to those of you who have GPS’s but, since I know that there are many of you out there who do navigate with help from above, I’ll just include a little section on my latest thoughts about transposing information from the GPS to the computer and vice versa. For a while after getting my GPS, I was saving and storing all the bits of information (Waypoints, Routes and Tracks) in a haphazard manner in the computer. Recognizing that this level of disorganization would soon exceed my ability to make sense of it, I decided to delete most of the individual files and have now concentrated all information in three Mapsets (more to come as I travel further afield). When the GPS downloads, it does so into an “untitled” file. From there, I copy Waypoints and tracks to the relevant mapset. All Waypoints also get copied to the master Waypoint file in Garmin Western North America Maps, so that I have one list of all Waypoints and can look up anything if required. One of the problems is that all Waypoints have to have different names, since the file will only accept one of each name. In addition, Waypoint names have to be short enough to fit into the GPS. If the program thinks a name is too long, it simply assigns a number, regardless of what name I might have typed in. I can see how, with time, I am going to lose track of the various Waypoint names and will have to streamline the filing methodology somehow. To add a new element to the GPS saga, I am going to go Geocaching – that is, searching for objects that people have hidden in various places and have then listed on the Internet. The plan is to find such a “cache” by going to the position co-ordinates that have been issued, enter one’s name in the log, exchange some article put in the cache by a previous searcher with something else and limp home.

Yesterday, we (Ted, Connie and I) went Geocaching. They had downloaded some sites off the Internet (which they access through their cell phone) and had all the positions marked. The two nearest positions to our camp were across the road and about .6 of a mile away. We attacked G07 first. It was up at the top of a climb of maybe 250 vertical feet and rated 4-2 (don’t know what the numbers stand for, except that, in some way, they relate to the degree of difficulty of the “trail” and, perhaps, the amount of ingenuity used in hiding the cache). The 4-2 rating gave me a strenuous climb up rock and scree to a ridge where I found the cache, a cookie tin hidden under some rocks. Inside, were small, miscellaneous items and a logbook with pencil for recording one’s “find”. In theory, one leaves an item in the tin and takes an item out – this to be traded at the next Geocache. The second Geocache (G08) was up at the top of an even bigger hill (rated 4-4) and I never did find it. At the location indicated by my GPS, I found a can of Bud wedged into a crack in the rock but nothing else. Either vandals got to it first or I had the wrong site. One of the problems with searching for GPS coordinates is that, without an accurate elevation listing, the bottom of a vertical cliff will read much the same position as the top. In all, there are about a dozen Geocaches within biking/walking distance of where I am camped, so I can see myself adding a hunt component to the bike rides from now on.


On Friday, the Little Cactus Restaurant, also known as the Wagonwheel Café, in Bouse, offered a menu special of all the fish one could eat for $6.95. Only one serving of chips and slaw was included in the deal so it was necessary to ration the latter items or beg leftovers from someone else’s plate. Despite being a one-horse town (though the highway is quite busy), the place was filling up by 5.00 in the afternoon. Where all the people came from I don’t know but they must have crawled out from under rocks all over the desert.

The skies are still clear and temps, most days, are in the mid-70s. Night time lows get down into the 40s so, it’s a very pleasant climate at this time of the year. There hasn’t been a drop of moisture since I arrived in early December and, if it remains dry, I expect that the desert flower show will fail to materialize as it did last year when we experienced several storms with plenty of rain showers.

The Olympics are now on TV but the focus in papers here seems more concentrated on speculation as to whether Wayne Gretzky will coach the Canadian hockey team, since wife Janet has become embroiled in the sports gambling scandal – with mafia overtones, yet! If nothing else, Canada gets a little extra recognition. Since Gretzky coaches the Phoenix Coyote team, Arizonans (the few that pay any attention to hockey) are at least familiar with the Great One. It was with some pride that I watched my old friend, Alberto Tomba, carry the Olympic torch in Turin. To think that, by tossing him off the ski hill years ago, we at Lake Louise may have played some role in his personal development, is highly gratifying. Evidently, he still has icon status in Italy, though there was no mention on TV as to whether he had received early parole to attend the ceremonies – just joking, of course.
JW

January 26th 2006
From Plomosa Road – Quartzsite
N 33° 46.023’ W 114° 10.339’
From the remote, calm, and pristine desert setting of Mica Mine Road, in the hills west of Ajo, to the sardine-like proximity of a half million or so RVers visiting Quartzsite for the annual RV show comes as quite a culture shock. Anyway, that’s where I am, having eluded smugglers, fended off “illegales” and played scrabble with locals back at my last location on Mica Mine Road. Actually, I saw no smugglers or illegales during my stay there but did play scrabble.

One or two of you have noted (with some relish) what you considered might be a discrepancy in my method of describing GPS positions. Sorry to disappoint the gloaters but, as there is more than one way to skin a cat, so too are there several options for writing GPS positions. To clarify:
One could write down the degrees, minutes and seconds (to the closest tenth of a second)
i.e 32°19’ 49.7”
I think that this equates to accuracy within one thirty six-thousandth of a degree (approx. 10 feet)
One could write down the degrees and percentage of degrees to the nearest hundred-thousandth of a degree (most accurate to within 3.7 feet)
i.e. 32.33050°
Or one could do what I do and that is to write the degrees, followed by minutes to the nearest thousandth (3 decimals).
i.e. 32°19.835’
This method gives good accuracy to within a little over 6 feet and is equivalent to one sixty-thousandth of a degree. Since the GPS itself is accurate only within 15 feet or so, any closer really doesn’t matter.
Thanks go out to Neil McKendrick for pointing out that there appeared to be a discrepancy between the system that I was using and the one utilized by Google Earth. This latter, one can look up on the Internet, input co-ordinates and come up with a picture of where I am. I’m not sure if the Golden Falcon itself can be spotted but Neil advises that he can see his house in Calgary. In any case, the lay of the land is out there for anyone with a computer and Internet access to view.

On Jan 6th, I went to Ajo and visited the Museum, since my new friends (man with shotgun, lady with oranges) were on volunteer duty. They (Gayle and Don Weyers from Wisconsin and now Ajo) were about to have a tuna sandwich lunch but lacked a can opener. Prepared, as always, I hauled out one of my several Swiss-army knives and got to work. For this, I received a complimentary lunch with my free museum visit so a good deal was had by all. The Weyers threatened to come out and camp in my area some night, scrabble board in hand, a plan that has since materialized. I played a couple of losing games (who would have known that “Aa” was a word for lava?) in the sun one morning in front of their tent, not too far from my campsite and then went off on the bike to inspect a seemingly bottomless hole in the ground (an old mine site that Don had told me about).
For some time, the bicycle had been showing signs of age, abuse, or a combination of the two. When I put strain on the chain while in middle gear of the front sprocket, the chain would roll off with a clatter leaving the opposite knee to whack the handlebars with a thud. Other than being an excellent test for the reflexes to see if I could anticipate the separation in time to stop pedalling, this scenario courted almost certain disaster since, with only one foot remaining on its pedal, I tended to topple off to the other side. A close examination of the components in question revealed that said sprocket was severely worn and needed replacement.

I finished my stay at Mica Mine on Jan 17th and headed for Quartzsite, via Yuma to visit Mr. B’s bike shop. A day or two previously, I had run into the Percys, now back from Canada, at the Internet Deli in Ajo. They told me about Mr B’s having a Foothill’s Road store, not far from the east end of town. By the time Mr. B finished, the bike was running smoothly again with new front sprocket and new (used) rear cassette, along with a new chain. Unfortunately, the knee (in line behind the hip) isn’t up for replacement yet, so will have to heal itself.

In Yuma, or rather, outside Yuma, I checked into various campsites that had been suggested by Gerry Percy. Following his instructions to Fortuna Pond, I managed to locate the pond itself but all sites along the edge were full of fishermen, on the hunt for elusive crappie and other species that are stocked by the AZ Fish and Wildlife Department. Someone I met told me that all fish die in the summer because it is so hot (average daily temps in July and August reach 105° - 110°). The first of Gerry’s sites that I had marked on the map was in the middle of a broccoli field (GPS error, no doubt) – a healthy environment, I am sure, but one in which the farmer might have been a little upset to have my truck and trailer stuck up to the axles in his irrigation ditches. Yuma is the US hub for winter vegetable growing and crops of lettuce, broccoli and other greenery are everywhere. The farms employ masses of Mexican labourers, some of whom may have walked by my trailer in the middle of the night. In the end, I managed to find my way to Yuma Lakes (aka Redonda Lake) and settled in the moondust of the 14 day BLM there – N 32° 44.564’ W 114° 28.850’. Moondust is a category of dust that is very light and slowly billows upwards when anything disturbs it. It is so named from the pictures of Neil Armstrong jumping on the moon’s surface many moons ago. Unlike the moon, rain changes the billowing moondust to wallowing mud, so camper beware – this could be a real trailer trap. No rain on my horizons, however (not a cloud to date for most of my stay in the south this winter), so I encamped in the dust for a couple of days. Yuma Lake is not a very attractive spot unless one obtains a place on the upper deck, overlooking the lake itself. There are only a few spaces there, so chances are low that one would be available. For two days, however, it was a place to stay within range of the city, so I didn’t really care. With bicycle purring, I moved north to Plomosa Road (BLM signpost 815), found Ted Webber and Connie, along with a billion (slight exaggeration) other people, including their friend Cline who hosts at an RV camp area in Eastern Utah during the summer months and spends winters in Arizona. I have been for a couple of bike rides in both directions from the camp, mounted the new bike computer that I bought from Mr. B (the old one succumbed to a malaise consisting of multiple fractures and an uprooted electrical connection), to check it out against the GPS – the GPS reads less mileage (today’s trip 7.04 v:s 7.20 miles) than on the computer. I have checked and double checked the tire size and computer setting for that size but have no answer for this anomaly. It may be something to do with the tire doing some extra spinning without forward motion, though that sounds slightly incredible, since it is a front tire - will have to work on this one.
Temps have lowered considerably since leaving the Ajo area. Nights are close to freezing again with daytime highs in the 60s – pleasant for bike riding and, for energy conservation, staying under bedcovers in the mornings until the sun hits my skylight and begins to heat the trailer interior. Many motor home groups are out here in the desert. ½ million dollar buses camping for free may seem a bit odd but there is room for these groups to congregate and enjoy activities which might not be possible in a regular RV park setting. Our nearest collective is the Alpine Coach Association, a gathering of about a hundred coaches. They hold seminars and conduct group activities of various kinds. Yesterday (Jan 22nd), I went in to Q to take a look at the big RV show tent and displays. The numbers of people and lack of parking are good reasons to seek out remote areas as I do and avoid better known boondocking haunts like Quartzsite. In any event, the show itself was interesting with lots of good stuff on display. I managed to resist the impulse to buy anything other than a hot dog that took ½ hour to manufacture. The only memory to remind me of the day in town is a sore hip from all the walking The Internet Café is still operating on Main Street (actually, there are now two), so I was able to check e-mails from the parking lot across the street. There are quite a few Internet dishes on motor homes out at Plomosa Road but, to this point, I have been unable to connect to one of them. With a little driving around, I’m sure that I could find someone with an open signal.
My new neighbours, Ted and Connie, moved off today to another location further along Plomosa Road on the Bouse side of the pass. I shall join them in a few days, once the allure of Quartzsite has worn thin. The new site ought to be at approximately (within 6’) N33 49.634 W114 03.368.
Efforts to vote in our Canadian election proved fruitless. I had been told that there was a way to download forms from the Internet, get them verified at a consulate and send them in. All this seemed very time consuming so, for the first time, I didn’t vote. As it happens, the mayor of Salmon Arm got voted in as a Conservative MP. I have met him and think that I would have voted for him anyway – my conscience is now clear.
On the general interest front, there are two items that have caught my eye. Both are from USA Today.
Zhao Ziyang was a Chinese reformer who died in the 1980s. The other day, some people were arrested and jailed for observing the anniversary of his death. It struck me that having the Olympics in Beijing opens the door to opportunities for scandal, possibly in excess of those that plagued Salt Lake City, with involvement from the French judge, our Canadian Pairs skaters, Salé and Pelletier along with the corrupt management of the International Skating Federation. In China, it would be simple for the Chinese to savour gold while foreign athletes languish in jail – or is that too harsh?
American “dry foot laws” were put to test last week when several Cubans landed on an abandoned bridge piling somewhere in the Florida Keys. They were returned to Cuba after officials determined that the piling did not constitute dry land under US policy. Cubans who reach “land” are allowed to stay and apply for refugee status; those caught off-shore get returned to Cuba. Maybe, installation of a whole lot of pilings off the coast of BC would alleviate our Chinese refugee problems?
JW

From Mica Mine Road Camp Jan 6th 2006

Jan 6th 2005
From Mica Mine Road Camp 3 32 19.835/112 54.013
Turnoff 32 19.711/ 112 54.063
Hello All:
It seems a long time since I last wrote from Craggy Wash but, with so much to do and so little time, things just get delayed. After spending the entire winter budget on new brakes, trailer batteries and my GPS up in Lake Havasu, I travelled south-east to Why and one of my regular campsites at Gunsight Wash. Because I know that some of you out there in group e-mail land may try to find a few of the places that I visit, and also because I need to do something useful with my new toy, I shall be writing down the positions of all campsites as they crop up in conversation from now on, as well as entry points off the nearest roads where possible. Therefore, the co-ordinates of Gunsight Wash would be written as:
Gunsight Camp site -------------- (N32 14.423’ W112 45.510’)
Turnoff from Highway 85 -------- (N32 14.345’ W112 45.018’)

I travelled down from Havasu on the 21st in good weather – sunny skies and mild temps, which, at one point near Gila Bend, hit 80°. My friends, the Percys were in residence at their usual spot in Gunsight, having arrived several days earlier.
Propane up in Gila Bend at the Shell was a shocker - $19 for a fill-up – am glad temps require no heating at the moment.
I thought that I had slipped back in time the other day when, as I was driving down from Havasu. I heard those immortal words – “hello, skiers and snowboarders”, on the radio. Apparently, the areas around Flagstaff had some snow and were up and running with new advertising on the local radio station. It seems a little strange to be talking about skiing down here where temps are close to 80° every day now as we experience a mini-heat wave.

I was at Gunsight for two weeks and camped adjacent (within sand wedge range) to the Percys. We enjoyed a few bike rides, had the daily happy hour campfire and turkey with all the “fixins” on Christmas Day. They have returned to Canada for 10 days, having stored their trailer (hopefully) within range of the Phoenix Airport. They should be back in the south before long, so maybe we’ll meet up again. The sunsets at Gunsight have been spectacular this year. It is hard to put down the camera as the light changes every few minutes each evening. I have put a few pics in the computer and I’m sure that there will be more to come.

On Jan 4th, my allotted two week period at Gunsight was up so I moved to a new spot. Mica Mine Road, aka Cemetary Road, is in the hills west of Ajo and travels from the Ajo scenic Loop to a closed gate into the Cabeza Prieta Wilderness a few miles past my camp area. I left Gunsight, dumped and watered at the Golden Hassan Casino – host lady absent, so will have to return to pay the $10.00 fee - then got propane at Flores Brothers in Why and headed for the my new spot. This is as scenic an area as anywhere that I have camped – very quiet and seemingly remote despite being only a few miles as the crow flies from Ajo. The “road” is a bull low, washed out, slow creeping goat track in spots, so I was a little concerned as to whether I could manage it safely with the trailer in tow. On a previous visit with the bicycle, however, I had seen a fifth-wheel camped at the site where I am presently ensconced. It was at least as big as mine, so I knew that the mission was possible. At first, I was tempted to take one of the sites closer to the main Ajo Loop but decided, in the end, that the day was long; I had little else to do and would not sleep well unless I tried to make it into this particular site. In the end, I succeeded with little difficulty, having avoided the hurling of plates and cups from their cupboard shelves, an occurrence that frequently marks my passage over rough terrain. Over the years, I have pretty well replaced anything breakable with plastic or Corningware – they both bounce better and seem to be better adapted for survival.
Since arrival, I have done a biking circumnavigation of Ajo Mountain as well as another loop nearer to camp. There are trails everywhere, so I shall have my hands full covering them all while I am in residence. The first morning in camp, Dale, the Ranger, came by on patrol. Unlike Wardens in our National Parks, he welcomed me and gave me some good information about the surrounding desert trails. Given that I am camped on a known route for drug smugglers and Mexican “Illegales”, it’s nice to know that someone (with a badge) knows that I am here and has my interests at heart.
On my bike ride yesterday, I encountered a man with a shotgun – out looking for Gambel’s Quail. It turns out that I had met this same man and his wife, in the same spot, last year while on a bike ride. They volunteer at the Ajo Mine Museum and organize scrabble tournaments in town. As it happens, I popped into the museum today, had lunch with my new acquaintances (the Weyers, from Ajo) got invited to a tuna sandwich lunch which was partially opened by my swiss army knife and arranged to meet for scrabble out in the hills next week.
My next port-of-call from here (in a couple of weeks) will probably be Quartzsite, for the RV Show which starts on Jan 21st. Most likely, I will stay up on Plomosa Road there, a little out of town and away from the hordes of people. Despite the masses, this is always an enjoyable time at Q. - walking around gawking at all the latest RV related things that I can’t afford, but about which I enjoy dreaming. Ted Webber, my neighbour from Craggy Wash, should also be there and can give me an advanced lesson on GPS navigation (if I can find him, I will have overcome a major hurdle). Since buying the GPS, I seem to have developed my elementary skills to a reasonable point (mainly riding the bike down steep, rocky trails with my eye on the GPS instead of the trail) but now need more help on mastering the more sophisticated functions that relate to its interface with the computer.
Temperatures are still up in record setting-range. We should top 80° for a high today, though I thought that I could recall high 80s once a few years ago – perhaps that was later in the month. With the bike riding that I have been doing (average 4 to 5 days a week), one would think that I could get back to my formerly svelte figure of 40 years ago. It seems that this is not to be and now I know why. In USA Today, I just read an article about how drinkers of Diet Coke think that they are going to lose weight but don’t because whatever is in the diet part of coke makes us hungrier. It was for the former reason that I made the switch to Diet Coke as my rum additive a few years ago. I can only conclude that the rum is an issue or perhaps the 16 oz glasses that I use (big but unbreakable) have something to do with it! Age, of course, would not be a factor. Keep the e-mails coming – I have heard from quite a few of you but there are still holdouts.
JW