After Tombstone, Paula decided to have a go at driving again. She began after we went through the Border Patrol Checkpoint on Arizona 80 and then continued up and onto the infamous and aforementioned dreaded Interstate 10.
Thankfully we had a tailwind and not a crosswind!
She drove for about two hours and I was able to take a break and enjoy the drive from the Co-pilot’s seat and take a few pics.
It began like this:
Amy greeted us at the entrance to the Good Enough Silver Mine in Tombstone, Arizona. We were not supposed to be here. The weather report for Monday was rain, so we figured that our stop here on the way back to Texas would probably not happen. But after waking up to a gorgeous sunrise at the Winery, we decided to give it a go.
Tombstone is a real town, with real people, and a real past.
Wyatt Earp, Doc Holliday, Lily Langtree and a slew of other Western Personalities dot its colorful past. You know, the kind of stuff that’s better than fiction, the kind of stuff that you just can’t make up. Over the years the town has come to realize that its calling card was its past. And therefore, they decided to keep everything that they could as original as possible, throw a little “Hollywood” into the mix and come up with what is a place to spend a very enjoyable day. The shops are all there, some rather authentic and some necessary to keep everyone satisfied. There is the quintessential Gunfight at the O.K. Corral re-enactment and a stagecoach that will take you up and down the (closed to traffic) main street with a definitely realistic driver as your tour guide, complete with a western drawl. Everyone is as cordial as you would expect in an old western town.
Tombstone is there because of the silver. It is an old mining town that has dozens of mines with hundreds of miles of shafts, drifts, air shafts, and the all-important original cribbing to hold it all in place.
It is real.
So, we went on a tour.
And we met Amy.
Amy introduced herself and as a way of getting some cohesiveness to the group and acting as an ice breaker among strangers she asked where we were all from.
Two guys – “West Virginia”
Amy – “What’cha do? Make a wrong turn?”
Laughter
Lady 1– “Just over in Tuscon.”
Lady 2 (her friend)- “Pennsylvania”
Amy – “Which part, I grew up in the eastern part.”
Lady – “Out by Pittsburg”
Amy – “Oh, I was over by Phillipsburg.”
Amy looked over at us and I said, “Originally New Jersey but we’re doin’ this full-time RV thing now.”
“Where in Jersey?”
“Upper northwest corner, Sussex County.”
Eyes widened, “My family is from up that way, near the Delaware River. They’re the Lenningtons.
“Lenningtons! I know the Lenningtons! Up by Layton and Walpack!
“Yup! My dad is George, and my grandfather is Charlie.”
“Grandpa Lennington??!! I knew him! Not real personal but I knew who he was!
Well, as you can imagine, it felt like “old time week.” After a little more Hometown Conversation, Amy started her excellent tour. You could tell that she really likes being a tour guide and sharing her knowledge on us top-siders who don’t have clue on what it is like to work underground in that tough a job. The tour lasted 45 minutes and Amy did not stop talking the entire time. There was that much information to impart on her entourage. Mixing just enough humor and the right amount of facts, Amy left us in awe of what those men had accomplished over a hundred years ago.
When the Tour was over, we re-started our familial conversation and took photos together. Amy could not wait to get home and tell her Dad (who was out here living with her) about the folks from Layton.
One of the tiniest towns in all of New Jersey.
A random Mine Tour in Tombstone, Arizona.
I continue to be amazed at the serendipitous nature of our existence on this planet.
My sister Kathy and her husband Denny got us a year’s membership in an organization called Harvest Homes.
Basically, what this enables you to do is find a winery, brewery, or farm that allows you to overnight on their property. You need to be entirely self-contained, they do not provide any utility type hook-ups, but what they do provide is an awesome alternative to the sometimes not-so-good Walmart Parking Lot Experience. This can obviously be a win-win for everyone. You would be a fool not to patronize the establishment and purchase some wine, beer, spirits, fresh produce, or whatever they have to offer in exchange for the overnight stay. You may even make a friend or two! In our case (because when you are standing at the bar doing a wine tasting) the subject of “where’re ya from?” inevitably comes up which leads to the “Full-Time Story” telling which has everyone mesmerized and saying things like, “Yea, me and the old man have wanted to do that too!”
Staying at these establishments is an entirely pleasurable experience, one that we look forward to repeating every chance we get. Yesterday we pulled into Soniota Vineyards in Elgin (pop. 117) Arizona. Go ahead, look it up and see where it is. Just about anywhere in Arizona is in the middle of nowhere, so you can imagine how nowhere Elgin, Arizona is. That is the beauty of this experience. The M.O.N. (Middle of Nowhere) is exactly what you may be looking for especially if you are in the Witness Protection Program. We saw a Border Patrol random checkpoint yesterday set up on a little road that led out of Mexico. We were going towards Mexico, so they did not stop us, but we expect that today, as we head away from this area, that we may be stopped.
I will put my Groucho Glasses on to avoid recognition.
Today we start to wind our way back to Texas where our little Honda CRV is waiting to be hooked up the motorhome. This will enable us to further explore areas that we travel to because (as we have found out) when we just have the motorhome, we don’t fit just anywhere! Hopefully, the wind will have died down a bit. The last few days have been crazy windy, which if you are a regular reader, you know how difficult it makes driving this thing. We even went through a Haboob! Which is a dust storm in reality, but the term Haboob, (which is what it is called in the Sudan) is much cooler to say!
But not to drive in.
They (the Arizona D.O.T.) have warning signs on the highways flashing when this event is about to occur. Our phones even went off as we were driving from Phoenix to Tucson on Interstate 10, like they would with an Amber Alert or another similar event.
It scared the Bejeezus out of us. Almost total white-out conditions. They recommend that you pull over, turn off your lights, and keep your foot off the brakes because you don’t want someone in back of you to see your lights and try and “follow” you through the storm.
We are now Haboob Certified.
If the weather cooperates, we are going to try and stop by Tombstone, Arizona today. The home of the infamous O.K. Corral and the subsequent shoot-out with Wyatt Earp, Doc Holliday, and their group against the loosely formed outlaw gang called The Cowboy’s. Apparently, the Town Fathers (and Mothers?) have made wise choices over the years and have kept as much of the historic fabric as possible intact. It is a Town, no admission charge, just go and see it all (and hopefully drop a few bucks in a local establishment.)
Reports to follow in another post.
Sunset Crater National Monument and Wutpaki National Monument are side-by-side each other just a little North of Flagstaff, Arizona. National Monuments were established to help preserve objects that have historical, cultural and/or scientific interest, while National Parks are protected for their scenic, recreational, inspirational, or educational value.
As you can imagine there is plenty of room for overlap in these areas. The important thing is that it is all preserved.
The day was about as perfect as one can be. You will witness this first-hand when you see the photographs that I’ve selected for your viewing pleasure 🙂 But then, that’s just one of the attributes that draws folks out to our Western States. I’ll start with Sunset Crater because that’s the way we did it!
Sunset Crater is a relatively young dormant volcano, last erupting about 1000 years ago. What make this so special is that the Ancestral Puebloans were already here and the effects of the eruption are documented not only in the tracings of their movements but also in the oral histories of the present day Pueblo tribes such as the Hopi and Zuni.
Now on to Wutpaki National Monument.
Wutpaki is a pueblo site. These differ from the Cliff Dwellings that came a little later in the era that saw the Ancestral Puebloans establish a culture on the Colorado Plateau. These buildings were often multi-story and were used for living, worship, grain storage, and in some cases, defense. The materials were found nearby except for some of the wood used for floors and ceilings, These trees came from as far away as twenty miles
Looky Who’s Driving!
Well guess who decided that it was time to start learning how to drive the Behemoth? The roads were empty as you can see. Paula drove the rest of the day and even when we exited the Park. She had no intention of driving all the way into Flagstaff, but as the journey went on, there was not an opportunity to switch drivers. She ended up in downtown Flagstaff and negotiated all of the highways and main streets like a pro until we came to our RV Campground for the night. I didn’t even have to use my “Imaginary Brake”!
Willy Nelson stopped by the campfire last night.
We had our usual good time just singin’ and playin’ our guitars.
Not really, I can’t sing a note as anyone in my family can attest to, and, besides, the only thing I can play is the radio.
But when “On the Road Again” popped into my head when thinking of a title for this post, well……
Today is Wednesday (4 AM as I write this) and as I put my best “Travelogue Narrator’s” voice on here,
“We bid a fond farewell to Durango and her neighbors as we drive ever Westward in search of the Perfect Walmart Parking Lot. So until we meet again, Adios! Durango, someday we’ll find our way back to you and your skyline of awe-inspiring mountain ranges.”
What a load of crap.
My daughter lives here and it is one of our Bases here in the West. Of course, we’ll be back!
But today is a Travel Day! Another “Ho-hum-incredibly-great-weather-as-usual” kind of day that abounds in this area. Our next destinations are several stops in Arizona where two of Paula’s cousins live. We have a few days to get there and luckily there is no shortage of sights along the way. The Drive itself may be rewarding enough, especially with the Gigundo Vista Visage Bug-Splattering Windshield in front of us. Our route takes us through Northwest New Mexico, past Shiprock and the Four Corners Monument, which because of an exceedingly embarrassing surveying error, is not, in fact, positioned at the precise location of the intersection of Colorado, New Mexico, Arizona, and Utah. (Maybe Willy stopped by their campfire the night before they went to work and they all had some extra libations, et al, if you catch my drift.) Oh well, at least it makes for a good story! All of this is on the expansive Navajo Indian Nation’s Reservation or The Rez, as it is locally known. It is the largest Reservation in the nation, totaling a little over 27,000 square miles of desert, open range, and some of the largest coal deposits on the planet. To give you a perspective on how large it is, New Jersey is around 8000 square miles in size. Interestingly, and probably much to the chagrin of the Hopi Nation, the reservation entirely surrounds the Hopi’s Reservation. This issue has been around for a while, and of course the U.S. Government and their incredibly bad record of handling Native American affairs, compounded the problems. But, if you go back far enough, the Hopi’s, who still live in Pueblos, have a much better argument for living here because it is easy to trace their history back to the Ancestral Puebloans (Anasazi) whose relics and cliff dwellings abound in this region. The Navajo where a nomadic tribe from areas much to the north of here. But, back to our route. We had planned on visiting Navajo National Monument, a part of the National Park Service, but it is closed due to the Covid Deal. It seems that Covid hit the Navajo with more severity than any surrounding populations. So we are probably going to pass that by in favor of two NPS Parks a little further south and they are Wutpaki N.P. (one of the Ancestral Puebloans site ) and its neighbor Sunset Crater N.P. (this entire area is rife with old volcano activity).
This is the area that we plan to “Boondock” in. Boondocking is the term given to just parking and staying, not hooked up to any utilities. Even staying in the aforementioned Walmart parking lot is considered boondocking. The site will be on Bureau of Land Management land, (BLM for short) which is just public land that can be used for just about anything that is legal. BLM land does have some practical regulations having to do with the likes of fires in the dry season and not destroying the Ancestral Puebloan sites, the majority of which, lie within BLM management areas, all across the Colorado Plateau. This is the geographic term given to the expansive land uprising that starts around Flagstaff, Arizona and continues northward and eastward thru Utah, New Mexico, and Colorado.
Enough of the Geography lesson. No worries, you are all just auditing this course, there are no quizzes, and it is not even pass/fail. It is just for fun. 😊
(Same day, Later in the Evening, 7PM)
The trip today went as planned.
Ho-Hum gorgeous weather.
300 Miles of Western Desert Scenery.
Zero Traffic
And not even one Interstate Highway!
All was good until we got to the entrance to the Four-Corners Monument.
Closed.
Now I can understand how Covid has affected many areas and has wreaked havoc on many a Travel Plan. But this particular site is a giant concrete pad with the outlines of the four boundaries intersecting at perfect right angles. One does not need a Guide to interpret this. Maybe they are afraid of vandals, but really, this place could have been made available. So undaunted, we went off into the desert, I took out my phone, went on Google Maps, found the real Four Corners, drew our own State Boundary Lines, and stood in all four States at once!
Not really, but it would have been fun to try! We had kind of a schedule to keep because the place where we were planning to Boondock today is a National Forest, administered in the same way as BLM land and therefore needed some reconnoitering to find a decent (level) campsite.
Arriving too close to dark is taboo.
So back into the Whale we clambered and continued on our way. This day was the antithesis of most of our other travel days so far, so there are no hair-raising or near-catastrophic stories to tell.
Sorry about that.
But I’m not!
We arrived here in the Cocochino National Forest a little after three in the afternoon and as it turns out, non-too soon. The area is well used, and the sites scattered among the pines were many and varied. They are absolutely, slam-dunk, perfect for Camping. Especially if you have tent. Or a Pop-Up. Or a Pick-up with a Camper in theback.
Or a small travel trailer.
Maybe even a smaller, traditional RV.
But NOT a Full-Size Big-Ass Coach.
Hey! What did we know? We wandered our way in on the more than adequate graveled road and looked for sites for us to occupy. I felt like we were in Goldilocks and the Three Bears…..
“This one is too small”.
“This one is too rocky”.
“This one is not level enough”.
We tried one that looked promising, but after we tried to level and were unsuccessful, we spent an inordinate amount of time trying to extricate ourselves from the clutches of the various trees and rocks that seemed to pop up after we entered this site. Paula outside on her cell phone communicating with me inside, frantically working the controls in an attempt not to get too many scratches on our pretty baby. Well, let’s just say we finally managed to exit, and we will only need a few Band-Aids to fix her up.
Undaunted (and we really liked it here, plus we did not want to be the guests of Walmart of Flagstaff ), we tried the other direction.
Nope.
Nope.
Nope.
Ahh…. Maybe?
I exited the coach and looked around. Level looked good. Trees spaced nicely. Exit without backing even appeared ok. So, in we went and held our breaths as the leveling process began. It’s not that we can’t park in a spot that isn’t level, it’s just that we need to be level to put the slides out, which makes it way nicer to be inside walking around, cooking , bathrooms, etc.
There is an Auto-Level System aboard the senses our attitude and adjusts accordingly. But it does have its limits, so finding a spot that is fairly level to begin with is a necessity.
Finally, after many big tweaks, and then some tiny tweaks, the Leveling Lady decided that we were good!
We went for walk around and to check out our new neighborhood. We found that there were other like-minded folks in the area and that made us feel good. They are probably looking over at us and wondering who the big jerks are that drove a Giant Class A Coach into the woods. Spying our Jersey license plates, I am sure they just shook their heads in understanding. Can’t wait to get the Texas tags on!
Back inside, dinner, some cards, and now some Zzzzzz’s.
It is called the “Million Dollar Highway”.
US Route 550 winds around mountains and through passes as it runs its course and connects Durango with Silverton, Ouray, and points beyond deep in the San Juan Mountains of Colorado.
Some say it is called this because it cost a million dollars per mile to construct (totally believable).
Some say it is called this because of its “Million Dollar” vistas. (Again, totally believable).
I call it that because I will need to spend a million dollars on Trauma Therapy after driving round trip from Durango to Ouray.
All kidding aside, this road exhilarates and terrifies all at the same time. Let us talk about the Terror first.
Extremely high elevations.
No Guardrails.
Twisty turns that can launch you to your death.
But this is the West, where men are men and so are the women!
If you can’t hack the drive, then get off the road!
Unfortunately, I am used to driving back East, in New Jersey, where the DOT once wanted to put guardrails on a driveway. (Only kidding, but not far from the truth). Out here in the West there are so many miles of lightly traveled roads that putting up guardrails is an economic impossibility. Besides, we need something to help Darwin prove this theory of evolution and that only the strong survive.
Hence, No Guardrails. Period.
Luckily for us it was early November, and the tourist season was grinding to a halt until Ski Season arrives. So, there was no one on the road, and I was able to stop dead (maybe the wrong adjective here) in the middle of the road and take photos.
This brings me to the Non-Terror stuff.
Every time you stop and take a photo and think “Ahh, this is magnificent!” and then get back in the car and go around the bend, you find that you need to repeat that exercise because you have found an even better M.P.O. (Magnificent Photographic Opportunity). It gets to the point where your eyes cannot take it all in at the same time. Luckily, you get the same view, but from the opposite perspective on the return trip. The San Juan’s are one of the prettiest mountain ranges around.
They are also one of the most mineral-rich depositories in the world. They hold just about every important mineral that can be imagined, even uranium. Durango, Silverton and Ouray are just a small example of the towns that sprang up in the 1800’s when the Mining Boom was in full swing. Gold and Silver, those Treacherous Temptress’s of Treasure, were the most sought after, no surprise there.
Nowadays, even though the Boom has gone Bust, these little towns have found new lives as outdoor meccas and driving destinations. The assortment of café’s, breweries, gear shops, galleries and most importantly, Chocolate Shops, has helped them survive the change-over.
Unfortunately for us, Mouses Chocolaterie in Ouray,closed the day before we got there. I felt like the two guys in the movie Endless Summer who traveled around the world searching for the Perfect Wave. They would get to the beach where some local would inevitably say, “Ahh mate, Ya shoulda been ‘ere yesterday!”
After a really nice lunch on the patio of the Gold Belt Saloon (Sunny, 70 degrees, at 7500 feet of elevation) we walked down the street to find that they decided to close for November, spruce the place up, and take a much-needed rest.
Highly dejected, (at least I was) we headed back to Durango.
I was counting on their Dark Chocolate and incredible Milkshakes to keep me out of Trauma Therapy.
Oh well.
Durango, Colorado
Gateway to the Incredible Four-Corners Region
If you are lucky you will be greeted by CubScout the Watchcat when you pull into the driveway. Instantly recognizable by not only his jet-black color, but he is usually wearing his incredibly embarrassing (at least that is what his cat friends tell him) “Bird-Bib” that his “Mom” makes him wear when he goes outside. This bib stops him from pouncing on birds but still enables him to be a good “mouser”.
If you are really lucky you may catch a fleeting glimpse of his very skittish and shy little “sister”, Ling-Ling, but probably not.
We have been here for five days and counting and not seen even a glimpse of her. Ling-Ling is pure white and is NOT a Panda, although she does share that name with one. When LL came to the farm and was “taken in”, she was affectionally known as Little New Guy, hence the acronym.
Tomboy Farm is officiated over by Travis and Lorelyn. Lorelyn is my daughter and Travis, her husband. Officiated is probably the best word to use here. With the two cats, two goats, (Cloe and Zoey) 15 chickens, (who will remain nameless here) and a myriad of projects, dormant and ongoing, it is the proverbial “Work in Progress”. Progress is the key word, whenever one comes here, there are definite signs that something has changed since the last visit. You may not be able to put a finger on it, but rest assured, something has changed.
Tomboy Farm epitomizes the concept of “Definite Random Eclecticism” (I just now made that up) , but it fits this operation to a T.
Travis and Lorelyn are “Collectors”.
It is a disease.
If you are a collector yourself (as I am) you totally understand this process. If you are not of this mindset, you harbor thoughts of, “These people need a Twelve-Step Program to help them deal with this affliction”.
But, thankfully, there is no cure.
If there were, there would not be any places like Tomboy Farm or Luna Parc back in Sandyston, New Jersey. To visit one of these gems is to put oneself on “Sensory Overload”. There is no way to grasp the randomness and specificness of what lies in front of you at every turn you take.
Lorelyn is the Deputy Director of the Legal Department of the Southern Ute Indian Nation and Travis is the Owner-Operator of Wheeler Works, an incredibly diverse LLC that dabbles in, Excavating, Irrigation Ditch Maintenance and Design, Water Resource Management, Windmill Installation and Repair and a myriad other qualifications that Travis enjoys. Travis is a true “Renaissance Man”. He can converse with you on practically any subject and is an excellent resource for many. His experiences include Two WINTER maintenance gigs underground at the South Pole where he was responsible for keeping their all-important generators humming. He went to Zimbabwe to help repair an old railway system, also he is an Engineer, Fireman, and Roundhouse Technician on the Durango-Silverton Historic Narrow-Gauge Scenic Railway. This railroad is on the bucket-list of every railroad aficionado in the world.
Lorelyn came out West to work for the Nation Park Service as an Interpretational Ranger. Her placements were at Muir Woods, just north of San Francisco, Sequoia National Park and finally at Mesa Verde National Park not far from Durango, hence her present location. She lived long enough at Mesa Verde to apply to the University of Colorado Law School as a resident. She was going to major in Natural Resource Law but when exposed to the relatively obscure (but rewarding) world of Native American Law, she could not help but change her specialty.
The past few days found Travis halfway up in the state installing a Solar Array for a couple that live 18 miles from the nearest utility. That home makes “living off the grid” an understatement. Lorelyn was embroiled in the usual legal stuff that only someone who deals with separate nations can appreciate. Tribes are “Nations” and as such the legal ramifications are incredibly intricate. But none the less, yesterday found time to spend hours canning home-made salsa to put up for the winter and future enjoyment.
But that’s just part of the randomness that I explained earlier. One minute she is on the phone (and this is the weekend) with someone discussing the intricacies of some contract while she is peeling Poblano peppers that have been fire-roasted by yours truly.
You never know what is in store for you when you step onto Tomboy Farm.
Durango should be one of you vacation destinations. It is the best place to use as a hub if you visit the Four Corners Region that includes, Colorado, Arizona, New Mexico, and Utah. Durango has a great airport that connects with Denver, Dallas, and Salt Lake City to name a few. Getting transfers through these cities is easy and make getting here a breeze. The National Parks in these States are awe inspiring and just driving around will have you craving for more.
Karen, one of your fellow readers, asked in the Comment Section if the spots on the windshield were bugs or UFO,s.
I’d love to report that they were UFO’s because that is a much more exciting story! But, alas, they are just BUGS.
It goes like this, a motorhome is about as aerodynamic as a shoebox. No, let me take that back. A shoebox is more aerodynamic because it does not have all sorts of appendages sticking out of it. The assortment of antenna, folded up awnings, TV satellite domes, and air conditioning units makes this thing like its dragging an anchor. But the number one reason for it’s ungainly shape is the FRONT.
It’s as flat as the proverbial pancake.
Which makes your chances (if you are bug) less than zero of surviving a meeting with it. In a car we’ve all witnessed the “Close Encounter” as a very fortunate bug gets swept up and over the car when it gets caught in the aero airstream instead of a “meeting of the windshield” event.
This NEVER happens with the motorhome. If you are a bug ANYWHERE in front of me, I will find you and SPLAT!!! I now have to clean you off the glass.
And soon.
Because what’s the fun of driving around seeing the country if your giant-vista windshield is covered with the “Remains of the Bugs” (to borrow a title from a like-sounding book.) So kids, keep those cards and letters coming and I’ll try to answer them when I’m not driving!