From Mica Mine Road Jan 4th 2010

Jan 4th, 2010
From Mica Mine Road (N32 19.953 W112 53.976 – El 1986”)
Entry from MM Road at N32 19.837 W112 53.924 – El 1945’ - 1.76 miles/2.83 kms from Ajo Scenic Road at local Route marker 8113I

Last time we “spoke”, I was camped at Upper Craggy Wash, near Lake Havasu. My present campsite off Mica Mine Road is located south of Ajo, Az.

Dec 14th – made my move from Upper Craggy Wash to Plomosa Road (MM 16.6 / 1.28 (N33 53.275 W114 02.910 - El 1136’), not too far from the not-so bustling community of Bouse, Az, a trip of about an hour and a half. Because I am now carrying two bicycles, I put the stepladder in the back of the truck. Foolishly, I placed it on its side along the starboard wheel well, leaving part sticking up in the air, above the truck rail. I didn’t think much of this because there seemed to be ample space between the bottom of the 5th wheel overhang and the upper section of ladder, a judgement that proved to be flawed. While exiting the relatively steep entry-ramp out of Upper Craggy camp (aka Craggy Heights), the trailer and truck tilted in opposite directions at one point and contact was made. I ripped out about 30” of the weather stripping along the bottom side of the trailer, something that I repaired after getting materials at Lifestyles RV in Quartzsite. The second bike, incidentally, was one that I bought at Walmart for Malcolm Koch, who flew down for a quick visit here at Ajo between Dec 26th and Dec 31st. We had discussed a rental (difficult, as Ajo has no bike shop) or other method of getting him a bike, including a thrift shop purchase or even a desert “special”, abandoned by Mexican travellers. While wandering aimlessly through the Walmart back in Havasu, I happened upon the bike section and there, on the top rack was a mountain bike for $79. It looked to be shiny and new, had 18 gears only but front shocks and good rubber. I reckoned that it ought to last a week or so and bought it. Since that time, Malcolm has been and gone, the bike performed well and only developed its first flat tire after he left.

Off Plomosa Road, the site chosen was the same as that in which a few of us camped last year in December, 1.28 miles up Cattle Gate Trail from Quartzsite/Bouse Road (Plomosa). This is a good location for three or more units, since Dave and Gail (Lewis) arrived on the 15th with Hugh and Christine Richards. They have a 5th wheel rig as well, without solar though, so their generator runs for a fair bit of the day and night (Handy Bob would not approve). Since their arrival, we made several trips to Quartzsite for miscellaneous Flea Market shopping and lunch at Sweet Darlene’s, Bouse twice by bicycle for breakfast at the Bouse Cafe (9.5 miles round trip – I guess that one cancels the other, speaking calorically). Three meals out is more than I eat the rest of the year, so I’ll have to tone it down a bit or hermit status will get revoked. In addition to the breakfast rides into Bouse. On a trip to Parker, I acquired, at Spanky’s RV and Marine, a solar bag for heating water. This could save me some propane as it is supposed to heat up to 120° (C 49°) or so when propped in the sun for a few hours.

I made several bike circuits up toward the mountains, one being a loop of 13 miles to visit Cave Hills above camp, over to the Plomosa Pass, around 4-Peaks mountains and back. At some stage, a group of ATVers (there were several) came by – a woman took a look at my arms and legs, crusty with old blood wounds and scars from a tree cutting expedition, and said “you don’t fall off much, do you”, to which I responded that “yes, I fell off frequently but this particular blood came as a result of a slight disagreement with some thorny trees. She then said that she admired me (whether for riding my bike in such an out of the way place, the blood, acquiring firewood with my saw, or simply a general attraction that I often exude when covered in blood, sweating from a steep hill climb and huffing and puffing, all at the same time. Anyway, she rode off on her ATV with a gleam in her eye.

One day, Dave, Hugh and I made an expedition with two trucks, a generator and the little electric chainsaw, coming back with enough wood (mostly dead Palo Verde trees and some ironwood) which lasted the week or so remaining. Surplus wood was carted down to Ajo for the next installment. The rest of the crew went to Shadow Ridge RV in Ajo on the 22nd and will stay there until Jan 5th, after which H & C may come to my little outpost in the hills.

On a ride one morning, after walking up a steep pitch and remounting his bike, Hugh hit a rock and toppled off into a pile of very nasty looking rocks. As he is a double hip replacement survivor, this could have been serious but, in the end he came away with a wounded finger and several other battle scars but no permanent damage. Fortunately, I carry a first aid kit, so was able to staunch the flow of blood until return to camp and capable repairs from Christine were made.

I made the move from Plomosa to the Ajo area on Dec 23rd. En route, a stop at the Gila Bend Shell for a free sewer dump and water load, plus fuelling, took up about ½ hour of the 4½ hour journey. The station still required a zip code to operate the fuel pump, so one has to leave a credit card indoors with the large, unsmiling lady at the till while pumping fuel outside - a system that creates significant angst regarding the security and wellbeing of one’s credit card. Someone once told me that there was a way of substituting numbers for the letters in Canadian Postal codes as a placebo to hoodwink these machines into thinking that they have a legitimate Zip. If anyone out there remembers this, please advise, since I have been attempting all sorts of combinations without success.

On arrival at Ajo, most of my previous camp spots were occupied but I located a new one high (405 yds from the road) up a trail near the top of Sunset Pass on Mica Mine (Cemetery) Road. This site may be my “new favourite” as it has everything that I like (a view, relative isolation, plenty of Sonoran desert vegetation (Saguaros, Palo Verdes, Cholla (not so popular), Organ pipes, brittlebush, limberbush, Ocotillos and, of course, the ever-present creosotes. In addition, it is located in mountains under some scenic rock formations, is on a dead-end trail and has plenty of bike trails radiating in all directions. I do have a couple of neighbours camped within sight. One of them, Lyle, arrived one morning on his electric bicycle to introduce himself. He has a dog who is deaf and mostly blind, a tough proposition in this land of spiky cactus.

Once again, I dug in my portside tires to lower them against the slope of the hill. I think that I am going to hunt for a cheap pick axe as some of this desert ground is beginning to bend my poor old shovel. There are only two radio stations available – classical out of Tucson and a local Indian radio station run by the Tohono O’odham tribe out off Sells, AZ. These last folks specialize in endless playing of what I sense may be the single tribe-owned accordion, accompanied by a bass fiddle, all backing up tribal chanting and request submissions. My favourite shows are when the DJ talks in native tongue, a language much more smoothly spoken than his or her tortured English. I have discovered that the Telus Internet stick does not function here, despite having a signal-strength of two bars. The cell phone, however, works reasonably well though it too shows only two bars on good days.
By the end of day one, I had a fire pit constructed as well as the sundial that is now a fixture at every stop. For those of you trying to find me, the Canadian wind sock flies proudly, high above the trailer on the end of its 19’ golf ball retriever.

On Christmas Day, Gayle and Don Weyers, along with some of their family, convinced me to go with them, via Valentine Well trail, to “John the Baptist’s Campground and Lime Hill, south of camp by a little over ten miles. John the Baptist (no relation to he of “Revelations” distinction), was a local character who camped in the middle of nowhere back in the 30s or 40s. I suspect that his camp, located near a wash with plenty of trees and shrubbery nearby is a present-day waypoint for itinerant Mexican hikers and drug smugglers. Lime Hill, a little further south, gave us an excellent view over the surrounding desert, including the ranch at Bandeja Well. I was on my bike for the 10 miles there, but returned with the Weyers in their Jeep – a good Christmas day was had by all.

Malcolm Koch was with me from Dec 26th through 31st.. I met him at Olsen’s Supermarket in Ajo and was surprised to see a Mitsubishi sports car (his rental) pull up beside me in the parking lot. Never having seen Malcolm in anything but a pick-up truck, this came as something of a cultural shock. He said that the rental people just pointed to a lot full of cars and told him to pick what he wanted. In the end, we decided that its exotic look did not translate into quality as it seemed quite “tinny” – or, since there was very little actual tin involved, perhaps “Walmart plastic” might be a more appropriate label. Anyway, it made it to the desert and, hopefully, back to the airport, so that’s what counted.

While Malcolm was in residence, we enjoyed an action-packed, bike themed visit, being as he had to justify the cost of his half of the Walmart bicycle that I had purchased several weeks before. The hope was to see as much of the surrounding locality as possible and even take in any available cultural events. To this end, we biked, hiked, hunted for future firewood sites, golfed at the Ajo Golf Club, visited the museum, viewed the New Cornelia Copper Mine (largest in Arizona at its peak but now defunct), cooked over the campfire and packed as much boondocking experience as possible into the short period of time that he was here. Malcolm even had opportunity to test his mechanical skills on my bicycle chain after it broke. In fact, we spent the better part of two days perfecting chain removal and replacement techniques until we got it right. In the end, the diagnosis was that the middle gear on my bike was wearing excessively, causing the chain to jump off when under conditions of extreme torque, this likely a result of me practicing my Lance Armstrong simulation with too much zest over too many hill climbs during too many years. I have decided now to relax my pedalling style (if that’s possible) as a chain-saving measure. I could also drop 40 pounds but that would mean less avocados ($.40 each) in the Caesar Salads.

The Ajo golf course is interesting because it is only half constructed on grass (very dry and thin), with the remainder being gravel. It is also the only place that I have seen tame roadrunner birds that walk (run) on the fairways with little fear of golfers. The locals and those with rental clubs ($1) hit from wherever they happen to lie but those of us who have our own clubs and don’t wish to ruin them take generous free drops to avoid the gravel. Some might question the fairness of this technique but I take the view that all’s fair in golf and war. The course was full length and quite enjoyable, even though conditions were far from lush.

On December 30th, Malcolm and I circumnavigated the Ajo Mountains on bikes (13 miles). At one point, we had thought to include the town of Ajo in our travels but found that the trail (via Little Thule Well) went through a gate into the Cabeza Prieta Wildlife Reserve (“official vehicles only”), so we had to turn back. Our route back to camp involved a “short-cut” up a narrow Wash (arroyo) for about two miles. This was mostly unrideable due to soft gravel in the stream bed, so we walked. The adventure was quite scenic as a diversion and something worth doing once, or, possibly not at all, if any of any of you happen to follow our tracks.

For its first few days of operation, the new solar shower proved to be a bust as it maxed out at not much more than luke-warm, even in direct sun. However, refined techniques and warmer temps, up to 75° in daytime, 35°/50° at night, have improved its performance to the point where it now reaches 120° (max on my thermometer), so hot that I have to add cold water.
Am including a few pics – hopefully, they get through
Keep in touch
JW

From Craggy Wash Dec 12th 2009

Dec 12th 2009
From Hastings Bookshop parking lot
Lake Havasu City AZ

Hello Group:
Have included a few of my travelling notes in this e-mail, so the usual smooth prose may be a bit jerky

Weatherby Rest Stop (N44 29.687 W117 21.956)
December 1st arrived and, on schedule –I was away from the cabin by 7.45, driving until almost 10 pm, reaching the Weatherby Rest Stop along I – 84 between Baker City and Ontario (city of course, not the province). Several fancy buses were already in residence to give me protection and block any semis from parking next door with their 24 hour motors running. Since I hadn’t been very tired, I just kept trucking for approx 14 hours. Also, clear weather meant no snow on Blue Mountain Summit, so it seemed a good idea to make hay (while the haying was good… ?). Back at Omak, just across the US border, I had dropped by the Walmart to replaced limes and lemons that I had discarded at home and green onions taken by the US border guards (who knows what gets into their minds at the border?). All meat OK this time, and BC potatoes, but the green onions (which the friendly agricultural lady and her assistant noted must have been at least 3 weeks old) were the only rejects.
I
Dec 2nd Alamo Sinclair Fuel Station (N37 21.870 W115 09.851)

12 hours to Alamo from the Weatherby Rest Stop (now having compacted three normal days of driving into two). Still a bit cool at 31° but quite bearable. I bypassed the casino at Jackpot since it was still only late morning at the time of passing, then camped at the Chevron Service Station in Alamo because they told me that Upper Lake Pahranagat campground was closed for renovations. I had had a successful computer check the night before at Weatherby – no wi-fi, so wasted $3 on a megabyte of data connection using “the stick”. Once again, clear skies and bare roads all the way. Having made it south of the snow zone, I tried to raise my rear truck-tire air pressure from 60 lbs to 70 lbs of pressure but the $.50 air pump at Hollister timed out and couldn’t give me the full charge. Let that be a lesson – never pay for something that you normally get for free!

Next morning, after the two hour drive down 93, I managed to miss the early morning rush hour in Vegas – far more hazardous than any snow and ice would have been in the Blue Mountains, and arrived at the Avi Casino, across from Bullhead City on Aztec Road. The Avi has extensive facilities including 6 food outlets, 8 movie theatres and the usual gambling slots and tables. In addition, there is an RV Park, golf course and free RV lot. The free lot is a dirt surface which could blow up dust if windy.

To camp in the free area, one has to check in with Security in the casino, get an “Advantage” Card that, as far as I could tell, simply kept track of how much gambling one did. In theory, one is required to spend at least an hour at the gaming tables or accumulate a certain number of points on the slot machines in order to justify one’s stay in the free area. To spend my qualifying hour playing Blackjack would have been first choice but minimum bets were $3 on most tables, so I could see an expensive hour ahead. Slot machines make a lot of noise and the general indoor atmosphere was very smoky (most casino goers seem to puff) so, in the end, I played no games, slept well enough despite the enormous weight of guilt hanging around my neck, enjoyed some reasonable food and departed for Havasu in the morning. Someone next door kept a generator running until 11 pm and started up again early in the morning – this against the Avi rules which request all generators to shut down between 10.00 pm and 8 am.

Upper Craggy Wash Camp (N34 35.715 W114 20.097 – El 1143’)
North of the Havasu airport, the bottom mile of Craggy Wash is now closed for camping. “Environmentalists” are blamed for this, according one semi-homeless looking guy that I encountered, but the reality is that local authorities probably just wanted to get the messy tents and homeless persons’ camps removed from public view. As a result of these changes, the area in which I normally camp was jam-packed with RVs – not very attractive. My first reaction was to keep on trucking to Bouse where there is plenty of open space and few vagrants, other than people like me, but I carried on for a considerable distance up Craggy to a spot that I remembered from previous bike rides. This is my present camp and is well (at least a mile or more) beyond the last vestige of civilization lower down the trail and 4.15 kms (2.58 miles) from the highway. The location is quite a scenic spot looking down to Lake Havasu miles away and on a slight slope down to the south. In order to level the trailer and keep the starboard steps low to the ground, I dug a trench for the portside wheels (lowering that side) as well as placing a board under the other side to raise it. After setting up the trailer, I discovered a tent-camper, hiding out in a little arroyo not too far away. My man has been in and out a few times with his old beater of a truck. Usually, he went out empty and returned piled high with wooden pallets to burn at the campfire. Where he got these pallets would be of interest to me but I didn’t really want to have a new “friend”, so left him alone.


Dec 6th was pleasant and reasonably sunny, so I went to visit Hugh and Christine Richards, who were staying at Windsor Beach State Park (have now moved to Quartzsite for three days after which we rendezvous on Plomosa Road (Cattle gate junction). With them were friends, Dave and Gail, as well as Gillian and Ian (met them all last year). Windsor Beach is a campground not far from downtown Havasu (where the upper classes camp). They had a very nice spot, right on the lake, their dogs love the water and it only costs $10 per day if one stays a full week (dry camping). With their new solar panels proudly tilted, the Richards are no longer outcasts (pariahs of the desert), though I would wager that, during recent stormy weather, they were “generating” as well. One can walk quite easily from one of the parking lots to the Sunday flea market and the drive into central Havasu is only a km. I restrained myself in the flea market, buying nothing more than a replacement hasp for a broken closet door. Lunch, always an item when out with others, was had at the Cha Bones Pub, next door to the market (would recommend). Lake Havasu has a new Super Walmart by the airport (not too far from Craggy), so food supplies are now very accessible. After my visit with H & C, I got a good wi-fi signal in the street outside the Travelodge motel, so caught up on the few e-mails that had arrived. Non-responders are being noted, so I look forward to a surge in correspondence the next time I check – thanks, though, to those that did write.

Dec 7th was overcast - more accurately - socked in, cool (48°) and raining, so my camping comrade may not have been all that comfortable. Local radio predicted snow (12” - 24”) at 5000’elevations (well above me), so it was a good day to sit around indoors, update the trip log on my computer and even check the news on TV. The maximum hourly charge produced by the solar panels on a day such as that is about 2 amps - not enough to recover from an evening of television, so I used the generator to hasten recovery, plug in the computer and watch daytime TV, not a normal occurrence. This is something that one would certainly not do if camped in the neighbourhood of my acquaintance, Handy Bob, but I’m sure my new tenting friend didn’t mind – in fact, I think that I heard his own generator going at nights. I doubt that he has a TV in his little tent but may have been using power tools to cut up his pallets or even run an electric blanket.

The night of Dec 7th featured a big storm with winds and rain, snow at higher elevations. Power lines down south of Phoenix (radio clip), I - 40 closed east of Kingman and the storm described as “massive” – up to 2 feet of snow in places.
50 hunters had been lost in mountains near Flagstaff, so rescue operations were ongoing for a few days – most have, apparently, been found by now. Here, at Havasu, temps running around 50° daytimes, mid 30s at night, so not too bad.

Recently, I caught, in one 24 hour period, four fat mice – don’t know if Lords a’ leaping (would prefer Ladies a’ waiting) come next but mouse entry into the trailer a mystery as I have power-line access plugged with a piece of rubber. Since tossing the cadavers out as coyote bait, the invasion appears to have ended.

I have discovered one minor flaw in the charge-monitoring system, and that is that Amp-hours accumulated by driving do not register on the monitor, presumably because they bypass the shunt somehow. The battery voltage, of course, still shows. The net result here, for techies only, is that the batteries can be fully charged, even with the monitor still showing a deficit of amp-hours below zero. Once reaching full capacity (14.2 V at 4 A for 30 minutes, the monitor resets itself to 100% and a zero balance of AHs. I’m sure that someone out there will be able confirm my observation re: the truck hook-up.

Malcolm Koch (friend from LL days) is coming to stay at Christmas for about a week. He flies in to Phoenix late on the night of Dec 25th and will rent a car, We will meet in Ajo on Boxing Day morning (unknown in the US and therefore not a holiday). I’m sure, at some stage, we may have to find a golf course and rent a bicycle unless I can find a Mexican clunker in the desert. Anyway, will be nice to see M. – he can hold down the couch. Today, I used up almost a Mb to check e-mail and respond to Malcolm – better than driving all the way into town to use the Travelodge wi-fi signal.

My neighbour, the tent man, has disappeared, I saw his old truck depart, loaded high with gear. Possibly, the storm on Dec 7th chased him away. I checked his campsite and noticed that he had dug a drainage trench around his tent, so maybe he survived and has just gone to pick up and spend his veteran’s pension cheque.

Three years ago, I bought some Teva sandals on the Internet, good ones that are designed especially for river rafters. In May, while travelling with Darch to Tucson, I twisted a buckle in the step of his Motorhome and broke it. All summer, I have had a dialogue going with Teva, mostly by e-mail, to get replacement buckles, A comedy of errors ensued, starting with buckles of the wrong size arriving; then after a lengthy delay came an envelope that someone had ripped open, hence no buckles at all. A shoe store in Havasu (“Famous Shoes”), had some similar Tevas and also a sale on with a second pair of footwear at ½ price, so I now have two new pairs of sandals, plus the ones that I have been wearing (quite comfortable cheapies from Costco). In addition to a variety of indoor, patio-lounging and other sandals that have accumulated, I am now set for life. My discourse with Teva is not yet over but I can hike in comfort while planning the next move.

On that same trip to town, I found some AG 12 batteries for the hot-water tank thermometer. Now, I can tell the temperature of the water as it heats. To save on propane, I try to shut down the burner when I reckon the temperature has reached a point adequate to perform whatever hot-water functions might be required but not much more – no point in heating the atmosphere unnecessarily!

Most of the above was originally written as a “ship’s log” for my own use - hence a few, somewhat mundane details (sorry, but there are no other types of details in my life), along with truncated grammar forms. My opportunity to send it out on a wi-fi signal from town today was too attractive to pass up, so I’m setting off down the wash to visit the big city.

Off to Plomosa Road tomorrow, Sunday Dec 14th and heading to Ajo or Why approximately Dec 24th.
JW

From the Shuswap Nov 30th 2009

November 30th 2009.

Poised and ready to go, it occurred to me that I had almost forgotten to get the word out that departure date from the Shuswap will be tomorrow, December 1st. This makes the 11th trip south since retirement from Lake Louise so, by now, one would think that all the mysteries about living a nomadic RV life for a few months every year might have been solved. The reality, however, is that since more questions arise than get answered, I’m further behind than when I started. Over time, I have learned a few things about backing the trailer into tight spaces and watching for overhanging obstacles that threaten to decapitate the air conditioner but still have trouble defining amps and volts without the use of coulombs or by use of the flowing river analogy that helpful electrical staff at Lake Louise always dragged out to make it obvious to me.

Golfing at Salmon Arm ended before the end of October this year because we experienced two or three nights of freezing temperatures at Thanksgiving, followed by a month or more of mild, if not sunny, days, during which we could have continued golfing until December (under umbrellas) except that an executive decision to close had been made and only we, a few paid-up members and therefore not very profitable, were turning up on a regular basis. In fact, this situation reminded me a little of late season skiing at The Lake. In the end, I had plenty of opportunity to spend my spare time on the end of a chainsaw or axe, hauling and chopping almost 3 cords of wood, enough to keep the fireplace going for two or three years. A ten day trip to Vancouver Island was extremely pleasant thanks to visits with my mother and various friends but was also very wet, due to near-record rainfalls. My bike remained on the truck and didn’t get used once.

Other than my less-than-adequate-golf, the summer and fall were interesting in part because of the amount of downed timber on the property. A highlight of the logging season, prolific here thanks to the pine beetle infestation having killed nearly all my pine trees, would have to have been the Thanksgiving visit by friends from Lake Louise and district. A fine turkey dinner was enjoyed by all; this followed the next day with a demonstration by Joe Nexhipi of how to defy gravity by convincing a large ponderosa pine to fall uphill. For reasons too obscure for me to comprehend, except that Kokanee may have been a contributing factor, the tree (approximately 120’ high and 25” diameter at base) fell squarely downhill, missing a storage shed by inches and falling directly over my motorcycle. Those old Yamahas were built tough, so, other than a few dents and a bent luggage rack, it survived, having been protected under the lee of the embankment at the side of my driveway. In the end, this accidently near-perfect exhibition worked out quite well with tree close enough to the cabin for bucking and hauling to the wood pile and I, with my arthritis and artificial hip really not very interested in riding the Yamaha anyway.

These group e-mails are directed at two separate audiences; one, the few old friends that still remember from Lake Louise days and before and; two, those people whom I have encountered since that time, particularly those who travel in similar circles to mine, or a mixture of both since, as we age, more retirees are discovering boondocking, an affordable and enjoyable lifestyle. My apologies that some e-mails are of little interest to some, but, if one doesn’t actually live under solar, then what possible interest could voltages, batteries and sundials have? Anyway, as inspiration strikes, I’ll try to send out the few usual notes related to details about campsite co-ordinates, cacti and the lack of wildlife in winter months, not to mention bicycle dramas, drug mule, coyote and illegal border-migrant sightings.

Most of my destinations will be ones that I have been to before, though, each year, I try to find one or two new ones. Included amongst the former should be Plomosa Road between Bouse and Quartzsite, Ajo and Why – all in Arizona. From the Shuswap, I shall head south on # 97 to the Tri-City area of Pasco, Kennewick and Richfield, south-east on I 84 to Twin Falls, ID, then south on 93 to Las Vegas, possibly stopping to take a break en route to commune with the snow geese and herons in the bird sanctuary at Upper Lake Pahranagat, north of Vegas .

Internet access this winter will be via a mix of wi-fi, where I can find it, and my Telus 3G card. For this reason, e-mails heavy with data content (old jokes, large pictures, etc) will only be opened occasionally, if at all. Also, because of the size of my mailing list, I had to make a few cuts this year. Sadly, on the presumption that those who were unable to respond last winter might be dead or have better things to do than answer my e-mails, I guess it won’t really matter. Anyway, hope all is well with all of you (dead or alive).
I always look forward to receiving news from the north and also anticipate meeting up with some of the fellow travellers out there.
JW

The "Stick"

The photos above represent a test crop and include the Ponoka Rodeo queen, the stagecoach and several pics at the cabin. How to caption the photos in-situ escapes me and Blogger Help is less than helpful. This would be the first entry since acquisition of the "Stick", aka a mobile Internet key for the computer. Superior (most of the time) to my dial-up, the stick can provide near broadband speeds, when it so pleases. This does not always happen because my signal on the Shuswap is weak and other traffic may dilute whatever signal there is. However, most of the time, it seems to work well.
The purpose here, then is to send a pic or two to see if improved uploading speed results in improved photo capability for the blog

E-mailing to Blog with photos

This last method of using the e-mail account to post a message with attached picture worked just fine. By the time that I exited Hotmail and opened the blog, the picture and text were there (actually, the photo was just completing its download), obviously a superior method of transportation than posting directly. I tried, once again, to post a picture directly, using the small photo setting. This one never came through at all, having apparently frozen at some stage. If anyone were to read this blog (unlikely) and have a solution other than e-mailing (using a dial-up connection), please don't hesitate to let me know

Test mailing to blog July 23rd 2009

July 23rd 2009 from the Shuswap
One of the problems with using Blogger has been that the speed of download for photos has been abysmally slow or hasn't worked at all. Hoping that this relates to the size of photos, I am using Hotmail which automatically downsizes pictures. With any luck, this may be faster than direct downloads to the blog

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Send and receive email from all of your webmail accounts - right from your Hotmail inbox!

July 23rd 2009 E-mail to Blog from Hotmail

July 23rd 2009
This message comes from Hotmail as a test. The next one will incorporate a picture to see if blogger speeds improve in this way

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Stay in the loop and chat with friends, right from your inbox!
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Blog exploratory mission July 23rd 2009

The last post on this site was made in 2007. Since then, hard drives have been replaced and two years of southern travel have taken place. This post is merely an exploratory mission to see if the blog still lives (which, apparently, it does) and to see if the picture posting process has improved any in the intervening two years since last used. If this works, then I might update the blog with text and photos from 2008 and 2009

Addendum to recent blog with reduced size photo of Doug M in the entrance to the Ibex Mine in Arizona. This pic is notable because it may be one of the few remaining references to the celebrated CSPS skipole/avalanche probe - having been on my possession for 30 years or more and now relegated to the status of Arizona hiking pole

The Falcon has flown for a whole year without any lubricating updates on the blog. Part of this was disappointment that photos kept disappearing en route, a phenomenon that is, hopefully, a thing of the past. In summer months, the Falcon stays parked most of the time, other than a trip to Ponoka AB that is coming up at the end of June. This is a combined golf/rodeo/social event and has taken place annually, other than last year (the year of the new hip) for almost a decade. This year's journey to Arizona was pretty much a carbon copy of the preceding year, so regular blog viewers (would that there were such an animal) will have missed nothing, or, if they were on the "list" they would have received regular group e-mails. Anyway, as the purpose of this exercise is to massage the blog and get my blogger status reinstated, plus fill in the form for a Google account, I shall now attempt to post a pic and abandon it until inspiration strikes again. The picture shows some recent visitors to my Shuswap cabin, including, but not limited to, some highland cattle accompanied by the Mountain sheep ram who believes himself to be a cow.

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