Many times, right up to the hour I was supposed to leave, I hesitated and had second thoughts. Finding a babysitter for Peter was a major step toward liberation. When that happened, I threw all caution to the wind and chanted repeatedly, "I need a vacation. I deserve this. Everything will be fine. This will move the plan forward rather than confine me to stagnation."
I had hoped to write posts from the road and present my experiences as a travel log for everyone to follow, but BlogSpot gave me nothing but hassle. First, it didn't like I was signing in remotely. I appreciate the security, but they need to make it more user-friendly. Once I jumped the security hoops for some reason it wouldn't allow me to create a new post. I'm baffled. Oh well. I kept a written journal and will break it into three long posts: "Road Trip to Snowflake", "I'm in Snowflake!", and "Home Bound from Snowflake".
The All-Purpose Vehicle
I’ve transformed my van
into a camper. The top mattress of my
twin bed serves as my bed and is luxuriously outfitted it with flannel sheets, a
wool blanket, a comforter, and to top it off, a sleeping bag. With a fluffy
pillow, it’s like sleeping at home. I’ve also brought a below-freezing sleeping
bag (just in case), a lantern (for reading), a bucket (if needed), a tent (if
required) and a pee bucket with toilet paper. For privacy I hang dark green
sheets over the side and back windows, sun shields for the front window, and
for ventilation I bought screening, the kind one uses for door screens that I
can hang from the doors and leave the windows open. It’s not perfect, but keeps
the bugs from coming in.
 |
| View of front at night |
 |
| View of back at night |
On top of all this I’ve filled the van with other
amenities: cooler with food, plastic bag for garbage, suitcase with clothes, shoes, coats,
water supply, health and beauty aids tucked into the cup holders in back, music tapes, maps and notebooks of
information, and audio books. I realize now, too late, my error was getting
audio CDs instead of tapes so those are useless. I wasn’t thinking. I love my
van. It can take me anywhere and is now a totally self-sufficient camper. I
love my van. Did I say that already?
 |
| Pee bucket and toilet paper at the back corner |
I should talk about the
pee bucket. You’ll probably think this is gross. Yeah, well, some say camping
is gross, too. Going without a shower or bath for a week straight is anything
but pretty. J I always need to pee in the middle of
the night especially if it’s cold. I have no desire to get out of my van in the
middle of nowhere half asleep, surrounded by hungry animals and unpredictable humans,
walk a great distance to use facilities that are incredibly cold and not always
well-maintained. I can pee in my bucket, close the lid, dump it in the morning
if there is a restroom or down the toilet at the nearest rest stop. For free
camping in the backwoods with no facilities, this allows me the
option of camping primitively without polluting the environment with my human
waste. Using the restrooms of fancy campgrounds is always a risk since they may be scented or filled with stinky people and their toxic beauty products. The pee bucket works great. Being this self-sufficient allows me the choice of where I can camp. My greatest fear is I drive over a bump and it sloshes or spills all over the van. Eeewww. It's never happened yet. Thank goodness!
After a day or two on the
road, everything has a place so I always know where my supplies are and I can
find them even in the dark. For security after I put up all the privacy partitions, I always keep my keys in one place so I can find them quickly, I know where the flashlight is, and I can grab my knife in an instant.
Day One: The Adventure Begins!
Miles: 725
Time: 13.5 hours
Temperature Range: 73/32
Butt Pain Level: High
Roadkill: Hwy 84 East = deer,
Hwy 26 = cats
“I’m on vacation, I’m on
vacation, I am so grateful, I’m on vacation”
I sang that every now and
then, most often in between the Jason Mraz songs I played in my tape player. I had a hard time believing I was on vacation!
At 250 miles around eastern Oregon I noticed I
could breathe for the first time in a long time. At 370 miles, my sinuses, neck,
ears, and head started popping and draining. Shortly after I started getting
sharp pin-pricks of pain and all seemed cleared. I nearly cried and thought, “I
don’t want to go back home! Ever!”
Boise, Idaho
Once away from the coast
the green disappears and all landscape turns various shades of brown. About 60
miles west of Boise, Idaho I noticed everything was beige. It took me a minute
before I realized the horrible truth of my observation: even the clouds were
beige. Hmmm…in the distance there was a brown haze all over everything. Is it
dust from harvesting? Chemicals or pesticides from all the commercial
agriculture. Smoke from a forest fire? With in fifteen minutes I had my
answer…my sinuses started plugging back up, my neck and ears became congested
and my lungs hurt. Then the headaches started. Smoke would cause headache and a
bit of lung discomfort, but this was worse. Besides, there wasn’t any smell of
smoke. Poisonous air. It cleared a little once I got into Boise, but I couldn’t
wait to leave. I remember my last trip near Boise during the summer months at the height of pesticide use. The outskirts of town with all the agriculture looked toxic. I didn’t even stop to see
the city.
I did stop this time. City
air seemed a little cleaner and the skyline was slightly hazy but not as bad as
the outskirts. The neighborhoods of Boise were really adorable with little
craftsmen-style houses. I found the Boise Food Coop which was wonderful then
high-tailed it out of town. On the way out I passed a superb Whole Foods but it
was already getting dark and I had yet to find a campground for the night.
Campgrounds
Campgrounds are a problem
for those of us with chemical sensitivities for any number of reasons. Those
issues include campfire smoke, scented restrooms, neighbor stink (perfumes, bug
sprays, shampoos, etc.), and exhaust from idling vehicles. I try to find
remote, primitive, undesignated, or dispersed sites. These are campgrounds without any
kind of facilities, unmarked nor advertised by signs, often on BLM (Bureau of
Land Management) land, and FREE! They are well-kept secrets although there is
some information on their location online at www.freecampsites.net/usa/ and some at the BLM website. It’s a first come, first serve system and everyone is expected to take their garbage
with them as well as have some kind of system for waste and waste removal. I have found the campsites are usually obvious and designated with a place for a campfire
with stones or burnt logs, but I think if you get way up into the backcountry this might not be the case. Most of these sites aren’t big enough for a trailer
or RV. Although you might be able to find enough online information on a campground to guide
you there, most information is from other campers on route, information
centers, and even local RV campground personnel who know of free alternatives.
Besides lack of
facilities, the only negative is the seclusion and possible lack of security.
Sometimes you are the only person there and for a single, female this can be
disconcerting to say the least. I lock myself in my van with coverings on the
windows. My keys are always kept in the cup holder where I can find them fast,
my shoes ready, my knife handy, and I have really good hearing. At any sign of
trouble, I’d be outta there in a flash.
The benefits of this
seclusion are less people which means less stink and that includes campfire smoke. The
campsites at these primitive locations are usually spaced far apart as well.
In a pinch, due to poor
planning or as part of the plan, I will go to a state park or RV campgrounds.
They are expensive, anywhere from $12 to $38 depending on the facilities, and
they are often crowded depending on the time of year. This trip is during the
fall which is considered off-season, but there is no off-season for RVers who
live in their RV full-time. Again, most primitive campgrounds can’t accommodate large
trailers or RVs. Hooray! The advantages of these fancy campgrounds is they do
have facilities such as restrooms and at the “resorts” they might even have
wi-fi, showers, laundry and swimming pools. When one needs a shower after a
week of camping, you can always find an RV resort. If you are on the road for a long period of time, I'm sure that laundry would be god-sent.
The first night I had a choice
between a nearly-free campground in Gooding, Idaho ($5) or one someone told me about
in Glenns Ferry, Idaho. I decided whichever sign I saw first, that’s where I’d check.
Unfortunately the first sign was Glenns Ferry, 72 miles south of Boise and it
was pitch black dark when I arrived. The air in Glenns Ferry smelled like a
forest fire so I worried. I found the campground at Three Island Crossing. They have around 80 sites,
but more than half of them were closed for off-season and the rest of the sites were
full. Still, the smoke smell was strong and most of the campers had fires
going. I was pretty sure I had already passed my Gooding option so I thought
I’d head to Twin Falls to find a hotel. Unfortunately it was already 9pm and my
options were running out. Hotels/motels worry me. Would they be clean enough?
If they allow animals or smoking in any of the rooms, I’d have problems. Is
this even an option at all? If the room was toxic, I could always sleep in the van in the parking lot as a last resort.
Back on the freeway and
ten miles beyond Glenns Ferry I saw the sign for Gooding!! It was located eleven miles off my path along highway 26 and I wasn’t sure if there would be sites left at
that hour or if I could find it in the dark of night. There are no street lamps
on any of these country roads and I was heading into backwoods country. The
adventure begins. I love a good adventure, but usually after it happens.
The directions I got
online said to find the fairgrounds and the campgrounds are right next to it.
Could I find the fairgrounds? No. By this time it’s 10pm. I stopped in a store
and asked. She told me to look for the large sign. Someone else said, go over
the railroad tracks and at the bottom of the hill it’s on the left. If I get to
the river, I’ve gone too far. I never did see the fairground sign, but I did
find the campground. It's a small RV campground used during fair season. $15 for RV hook up, $5 for tent. I paid for a tent but
couldn’t see where the tent area was due to lack of lighting. And I’m the only
person there. I parked under one of the few lamps and crawled into my very warm
bed. Total silence.
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| Photo taken the next morning |
At first I was a little
nervous. A woman all alone out in the middle of no where camping at a deserted
campground at the edge of a redneck town. Great. As I started to panic I thought of all the chemically
sensitive people who do this every night. Many of them are single women. I’ve
read they say the first night of homeless camping is the hardest. I felt like such a
whiner. A very lucky whiner as I still have a place to call home. I relaxed and felt humbled. Then I
thought of that single chemically sensitive woman who was camping in her car
and murdered at one of the campgrounds. I put that out of my head. I needed to trust my fate.
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| All alone. No one was in that trailer. |
The amenities here left
little to be desired. The bathrooms are at the fairgrounds about a mile away.
There is a shower but there is no way I’d ever strip naked and get into that
dark, dingy stall. Eewww! It reminded me
of the restrooms of my nightmares without the fecal matter all over the
toilets. There are three train tracks about a block away and at least once an
hour between 2am and 7am a train passed complete with whistles. I grew up on a farm with
train tracks nearby so I felt right at home, although it didn’t help me sleep.
My sinuses were congested all night and in the morning I detected a faint smell
of sage. I don’t do well with sage. And this is agriculture country. I conclude Idaho is a
cesspool of commercial agricultural poisons. I won’t be living here anytime
soon. I left at dawn. The town was beautiful in the morning light.
Day Two:
The Desert Nomad Camper
Miles: 477
Time: 9 hours
Temperature Range: 73/57
Butt Pain Level: Medium
Roadkill: Badger?
My goal today and for the next two weeks is to find a
campground before it gets dark. At 4pm I start looking and by 5pm I should be settled. I had one picked out a little north
of Salt Lake City but decided since it will only take about four hours to get
to Salt Lake City I’d attempt to go farther and see if I can find something
else. I know with time I get better at traveling. It takes a day or two to
figure out the system.
Salt Lake City, Utah
I stopped at the Whole Foods in Salt Lake City and asked
someone on the elevator. He said go to Moab where there are a lot of parks and geological
sites. It's is only 4 hours away from Salt Lake City. Salt Lake City was beautiful with clear skies and little if any smog.
At 4pm I got a little
nervous. Utah was all desert. Running out of time and the sun is about to go behind the cliffs. There
are plenty of signs for RV camping but I don’t want to be surrounded by RV
generators and campfires. I should have noted more of the free campsites from
my online research but most said they were off unpaved roads. I don’t have a
four-wheel drive so I avoided those.
I arrived just outside
Moab around 4:30 and the first thing I see is “RV Campark” advertising tourist shops, historical recreations, and
a heated pool. It looked like an amusement park. Not what I’m looking for but I
stopped anyway. She said they don’t allow anyone to sleep in their car and if I
put my tent up I’d have to sleep in it. Why? Hell, I don’t want to put my tent
up and I definitely don’t want to sleep in it. She suggested I go to Willow
Springs Road which is a road I just passed. It’s a BLM site! I thank her and
left. A woman followed me out and told me she camps there all the time. Lots of
sites, very quiet, safe, and free.
She was right. There are
quite a few people here but the sites are about 50 feet apart so even if they
do have campfires, I doubt if they will affect me. Very quiet. And free.
Hooray! Perfect camping. The road in was
a little nerve wracking: deep sand. I was afraid I’d get stuck so I didn’t
venture too far into the backcountry. The desert was beautiful with the mountains in the background. The campers here are friendly and wave as they ride by on their mountain bikes, dune buggies or dirt bikes.
In the middle of the night
I could hear wind and rain, but it’s pretty warm. I came from the coast which
has been dark, rainy and cold. I think it’s the only place in the country not
in the 70s right now…I’m so motivated to find a new place to live.
Day Three: Dodging Tumbleweeds
Mileage: 297
Time: 9 hours
Butt Pain Level: Low
Temperature Range: 65/
Roadkill: Tumbleweeds
All night my sinuses
burned and were congested. I have no idea why. Desert dust? I was hoping the higher
elevation would miraculously cure me, but I guess not. I drove out of the
campsite around 8am, as soon as it was light enough to see.
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| Sunrise in Moab (Why do spectacular clouds remind me of Evelyn?) |
I headed to Durango. There
is a storm rolling in and the warning is wind. High wind. I spent the next
couple hours dodging tumbleweeds that were rolling out of the fields and over
the highway. At times there were so many it was like a stampede. Some of them
were small and my van wheels crushed them, but others were huge and sounded like an explosion when
hit. I did what I could to avoid them.
 |
| Tumbleweed attack! (Yes, I'm driving while photographing! Bad, bad tourist!) |
Road Condition Comparisons:
Washington = excellent/good
Oregon = excellent
Idaho = bad
Utah = mix/mostly bad
Arizona = mix/mostly good
California = exceptionally bad
I stopped for information
at the Mesa Verde National Park. The Internet said the campsite was closed, but
the woman said it is open but with limited services. They still want $20 a
night. Wi-fi doesn’t come with that. I decided I should go find some BLM free
camping first and if I couldn't, come back.
I checked with the BLM
office in Durango and was given a map with two freebie campgrounds circled.
Both on are the way to Silverton, a small town up in the mountains I wanted to
see so I headed that way in hopes I could figure out during day light where to
find the road to free camping. There are no “free camping” signs with arrows
pointing the directions so one really needs to use common sense and pay
attention to clues. It’s a challenge. It’s an adventure.
Lower Hermosa is about five miles north of Durango on state highway 550. Take the Lower Hermosa Road exit and head straight
up the hill. The road is paved for about two miles then unpaved with cattle grates.
The unpaved surface is washboard and a few times the van couldn't get traction and skidded sideways. This is
why I don’t like unpaved roads with my non-four-wheeling van, that and it feels
like my shocks are coming undone. The whole van shakes and I worry I’ll need to
get my tires realigned. Oh well. It’s an adventure. Really beautiful campsite.
And FREE…I like that best. There are bear warning signs all over so I might
have company tonight.
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| Lower Hermosa campsite |
Silverton, Colorado
I drove back down the
mountain and headed to Silverton. Beautiful homes along the way and many ski
resorts. The highway narrowed to a very thin two lane road with twists and
turns. I was fine until the drop off on the right side too close to my van. My palms were sweating so badly I didn’t
think I’d be able to hold onto the steering wheel and every time I put on the
brakes it felt like I wouldn’t stop. I played my love song lullabies to calm my nerves. I was creeping at 20 mph up and down the
mountain and I’m so glad there wasn’t anyone behind me. I’m pretty sure I was
nearly there, but I panicked and turned at the first turnout. I figured if I
couldn’t drive the road, it didn’t do any good to check it out as a place to
live. The day was sunny, clear and
beautiful. I think if it would have started raining I would have panicked even
more and froze unable to drive another inch. I can’t imagine people drive this road
in the dead of winter with all that snow! There was snow on the side of the
road, but the road was clear during my attempt.
Durango, Colorado
I returned and went to
Durango to walk around the town. It was about 3pm and the traffic and car
exhaust were unbearable. And I couldn’t breathe. At first I couldn’t figure out
why walking seemed to exhaust me, then I realized it must be the elevation. At 6500 feet, Durango is high.
The ladies at the Durango information center said they have lived in Durango for
over ten years and they still get nose bleeds. I always thought one would get
used to the elevation. Other than the breathing issue during exertion, I felt fine.
I wasn’t impressed with
the town in general although I liked the old town section and the cute little
craftsman cottages in the neighborhood behind it. Lots of stone and brick
houses. The real estate prices are too high, higher than my budget will allow.
There is definitely too much traffic and car exhaust for my taste. Although it
has services and amenities, it’s too big with a serious case of urban sprawl. I’d
rather live in a small town with the amenities close by.
It’s supposed to snow
tonight!! I’ll be thankful to make it down the mountain in the morning!
Day Four: Wildlife - It's a Zoo Out There!
Mileage: 235
Driving Time: maybe 4
hours
Butt Pain Level: Nothing
Temperature Range: 40s/38
Roadkill: mule deer
I didn’t wake up to snow
as expected, or bears – I woke up to wolves. Two big dogish looking wolves.
Last night after I went to
sleep I woke up to a loud crash and men running through the woods with
flashlights yelling. Unnerving to say the least. I had no idea what was going
on, but I always find it’s in my best interest as a lone female to just keep
quiet and pretend I’m not awake. No one needs to know a woman is in that van all alone and vulnerable. Let them assume it's two burly men....with firearms and black belts in self-defense.
The next morning I’m
organizing, dressing, and getting ready to leave and I see two large canines milling about my van. They are watching the guys who were making the racket
last night. I could see the men, one was in his sleeping bag on top of the
picnic table and the other was sleeping on the ground. They were driving a
small white car. These animals looked like wolves only one of them had dog
markings. I know a little about wolves, but I didn't recognize this species. I assumed Colorado had a hybrid species I wasn't familiar with. When the wolves left, I could hear the guys talking. I was out of my
van brushing my teeth ready to leave and I got curious so I walked over for a
visit.
“Did you see those
animals? Were they wolves?”
The ground-sleeping man who was by this
time out of his sleeping bag explained they weren't wolves but hybrids, half
wolf/half dog, wolves bred with Malmutes to be exact. Oh great. One of the breeds most likely to attack. He went on to apologize for last night. It seems after they
parked the car, it slipped gear and ROLLED BACK INTO THE OTHER CAMPSITE!! I
almost camped in that site and changed at the last minute! The crash I heard
was the car hitting and pulverizing the picnic table.
The wolf-dogs were cabled
to the car, the cable broke when the car rolled, and they ran. Do you blame them? The men couldn’t catch them. He said the hybrids get loose all the time and he doesn't seem to have any control over them. Idiot. First, because he tied the dogs to the car which is dangerous to the dogs, and second, because he is too stupid to train them to come on command.
As I’m talking to this
guy, the other who was still in his sleeping bag on the picnic table is
climbing out. Both look homeless rather than campish and I felt my instincts giving me warnings. I kept my distance. I listened to the man whine about how he has no
idea what to do with them and they act like wolves. In other words, they are smarter than their owners. I gave him the short
version of my lecture on the responsibility of training dogs so they will come on command and
the intricacies of owning a wolf. He continued to whine about being over his
head and I just wanted to scream Stupid people shouldn't be allowed to own dogs, but hybrids!? Really? I wished him luck and excused myself. I had a
feeling I needed to get away from them quickly. Later I reported them to the BLM office. If anything someone should go up there and help catch the dogs and ideally put the stupid dog owners in jail.
I headed to Pagosa
Springs. The countryside on the way was beautiful. The highway was
littered with mule deer carcasses. The thing about Colorado is all the wildlife
and wildlife warnings. Signs like “Wildlife Zone, Double Fines, Oct.1 – Jun-1,
5pm – 7pm” or flashing “Wildlife Detection Warning” which is scary. I'm driving down the highway convinced something is waiting to jump out in front of me. Also, elk signs. This is much worse than where I live. We have a road I call
“Suicide Highway” because the deer are always jumping out and causing wrecks.
Just last month I saw a deer run across the highway just behind my van and the
car behind me hit it. It was horrible.
Pagosa Springs, Colorado
I had read Pagosa Springs has really great air quality. Unfortunately, it looked like a
large strip mall. I expected a quaint little country town with a main street.
Major disappointment.
Bayfield, Colorado
This little town
is just west of Pagosa Springs about twenty miles east of Durango. It was
adorable with an old style main street complete with wild west style buildings, little homes, bigger homes on the hill, more modern facilities down the road. Perfect. I looked at real estate prices. Not so perfect. Real estate is still too high even out in the middle of nowhere. Three acres for
$99K.
On the way back to Durango
I discovered Nature’s Oasis, a health food grocery store. Noosa Yogurt made in Colorado. Oh,
yum. I found this yogurt in Arizona and California, too. Having an adequate health food source only fifteen minutes away makes Bayfield perfect...if it wasn't for the real estate prices.
Drove to Mesa Verde
through a blizzard and took the Cliff Palace tour in a hail storm. I’ve always wanted to see
these ruins, but always thought they were in New Mexico. Thank you, Urfa, for the head's up. Saw a tarantula
there. So cute and creepy all at the same time.
Then I went to the Spruce Tree House which is on another cliff:
Driving that road down the mountain in the hail and fog was not fun. I played my love song lullabies and hummed along to calm my nerves.
One of the rangers at the
park told me about a BLM campsite nearby. Just past Mancos, turn left for Echo
Basin. At three miles in, look for the posted camping rules and camp anywhere. Quiet, secluded, non-toxic and beautiful. I
got there early, typed, read my book, looked at my maps and with little else to
do, went to bed early. I laid there for hours thinking, unable to sleep.
Day Five: The Longest Night of My Life
Time: 12 hours
Butt Pain Level: Low
Temperature: 50/26
Road Kill: Horses
After laying awake for hours and finally falling asleep, I awoke around midnight
thinking it was dawn because everything was so light. SNOW. Two to four inches and
cold! Not just cold, but frozen solid to the ground, the trees and my van. I
couldn’t get back to sleep worrying about how I was going to get off the
mountain. If it started snowing again with the warmer morning temperatures, I'd be stuck.
I started doing the Secret right away:
“I am so grateful for
traction!”
“I am so grateful for
clear roads!”
“I’m so thankful I’ll be
in Arizona tomorrow, or rather, today later on!”
 |
| Yep, driving and photographing while negotiating snow and ice. Am I insane? |
It worked! My tires
gripped the ice on the road, the highway was clear, and eventually that day I ended up
in Arizona. Once I made it to the highway in the dark, I headed to Cortez
eighteen miles away, found a Denny’s that had wi-fi, ate scrambled egg, thanked
the powers-that-be I didn’t create any roadkill, and waited for dawn.
Arizona
I left Cortez around 7:30am for
Arizona eager to find sun and maybe warmer weather.
I stopped at Four Corners to
stand at the intersection of four states.
Not sure it was worth the $3.00 for
the admission. All around the monument were booths for Navajo artists, maybe
100 in total. On this cold, fall day, there were only 5 people with their
merchandise. Off season. I really need to stop doing tourists attractions during off-season. It’s
not worth it.
The scenery on the Navajo
Reservation is gorgeous. I'm pretty sure you need to be Native American and especially Navajo to live there.
In some areas the dirt is a bright red/pink with bright green plants. Outstanding.
The roads were beautiful, lacking traffic, flat and begging for a bike ride.
 |
| Clouds for Evelyn |
The great thing about
desert driving is you can see ten miles of road in front of you straight
through the flat landscape. I felt tears welling. I felt like I had arrived home. Only one other time in my
life I felt like this and it was when I moved to Arizona. I had high hopes for
Snowflake.
Navajo horses were roaming
freely on the side of the road. One was in the other lane watching me approach.
I slowed to a crawl so afraid it would jump in front of the van. I couldn't imagine hitting a horse with my car. I honked
trying to get it to move off the road. It just stared at me. As soon as I past,
it trotted across the road and galloped into the desert. So weird. This wasn’t
the only one as I encountered many horses wandering freely on the side of the
road as well as one huge pig and a lone cow. Strange. Single cows all alone with no cow friends in sight always upsets me. That's just wrong. Did his cow friends kick him out of the club? Is he sick? Is he lost or bewildered? It's wrong.
I was feeling very positive
until I reached I-40. Big black clouds hung over the freeway. They opened up dumping
rain and snow on the very crowded roadway and the strong winds made all that water go sideways. Scary. It was very cold. (No, I didn't take photos while driving this time. I could barely keep the van from blowing off the road. Not sure why that would stop me.)
On to Snowflake...
