I went out and rescued my poor little chives pot, one more time, lifting it off the ground where the unrelenting wind blew it off the table, along with all of its buddies.

The rest are all dried out – the chives are the only thing left I’m trying to save. I’ve let the rest go. Tired of collecting them from some scattered locations, downwind.

Here, in the Senator Wash LTVA, anyway, the wind has been prevalent pretty much since December. We get some lulls, now and again, but they’re mostly intercessions between direction changes.

Right now, it’s coming out of the west. It shakes the trailer, now and again. I can’t put out the awning – I had an awning ripped to shreds by an unexpected wind, one time. A nice, unanticipated $1000 replacement, down the line. The forecast is for rain, so this is probably the precursor to the front. When the front comes through, it’ll really blow.

I don’t know if it’s this bad or prevalent up in Quartzsite. I’ve come down here to the Senator Wash area because of it’s proximity to a bigger town (Yuma), and a few degrees gained. But, with all this wind, I’m beginning to wonder if a few degrees is worth the exchange.

One thing, for sure: If you come out here, a wind generator is a good investment.

“Well, Bucky” he said to his faithful mule standing nearby, “It’s time to git into town and stock up on a few things…”

Bucky, turned his head for a moment, acknowledging the comment that was directed at him, flicked his ears, and then returned nonchalantly to chewing on his oats.

FROM THE SENATOR WASH LTVA, a run into town proper is a trek of close to 40 miles. You can cut that down to 25 by taking the farm roads, if you’re willing to put up with the rough dirt road past Mittry Lake and getting stuck behind farm machinery. Not advisable after a heavy rain. Either way, it’s still a lot of miles round trip – a not insignificant commitment in fuel cost and time.

But, I have to do it more often than I’d like. The generator needs gas, propane tanks need filling, and there is the reefer to keep stocked. The impetus this go-round is that I’ve contracted the current-goombah-that-is-going-around and I need to stock up on my drug supply. I always like to do double duty, so I’ll empty the gas tanks into the generator and refill those while I’m out – hopefully save a trip.

Actually, I don’t have to go all the way into town – there’s an area east of town called Fortuna/Foothills that is significantly closer, and is paved highway all the way down. It’s still about 25 miles, so it still represents a pretty good investment, but it is better. There’s a big Fry’s grocery store, a laundromat, a good place to get propane, a Flying J, and a Walgreen’s, the subject of this trip.

I would rather do it in something other than the truck – a Smart Car would be just the ticket – or some other smallish vehicle that just sips gas and that I could somehow strap onto the back of the trailer. A bicycle would be even better – my usual solution when stores are nearer – but a 50 mile round trip on a bike is a pretty serious time commitment.

Besides. I’m sicker than a dog.

The truck is what I have, and the truck is what I use.

Which means burning about $10 worth of fuel per round trip.

Ouch!

What to do with the unit while I was gone? That was the question. I had a reefer full of food I wasn’t really relishing replacing, including the relish.

I could put it into storage, if there was power. If I could keep power to the unit, it would be worth it – keep the batteries up and keep the reefer cold.

But, there was no storage facility in Yuma that I could find with power. Plenty of places, at $30/mo (which isn’t bad, really), but no power.

Another option would be to put it in a park and I thought seriously about that, for a while. Until I investigated the cost: $400, $500. For that amount, I could buy a lot of replacement food, should the reefer go out in my absence.

I was almost reconciled to just cleaning out the reefer and putting it in storage, but a stop by the LTVA admin office suggested an alternative: The LTVA’s are pretty much safe places (so far). People pretty much go about their business and don’t disturb one another. I asked the admin about just leaving it there for a couple of weeks?

“No problem,” was the reply, “just try to let a neighbor know, so they don’t come banging on our door wondering where you went.”

Well. Ok. Why not? I can lock the trailer up, and there’s a lock on the hitch pin so someone can’t just tow it away without making a big commotion. I scanned the reefer and expunged it of stuff I knew wouldn’t last, even if it stayed cold: lettuce, tomatoes, cilantro, milk.

Next was to charge the batteries as much as possible – I’m gone for two weeks. Will they last? This was the question on my mind as I finished packing, threw the luggage in the truck, locked up the trailer and circled it one more time to make sure all was in order. Then, down the highway. Next stop: blue water, warm sun.

TWO WEEKS LATER, I made my way back to the airport, and tentatively opened the door. Did they last?

A quick check in the freezer indicated stuff just beginning to thaw. Sonofagun. The main box contents were pretty warm, though, but I didn’t leave anything that couldn’t tolerate a bit of warmth, except the mayo. That has to go.

All in all, better than I expected. The freezer was the best news, but the batteries were severely down to the point they couldn’t turn over the generator. A quick jump off the truck battery solved that problem.

So now, everything is back up to snuff – the batteries recharged and the reefer back to it’s normal state. I’m putting long charges on the batteries, which uses up a lot of gas, but I’m sure the long hiatus didn’t do them any good. It’s worth putting a bit more juice to them, for now.

Of course, what would have caused no worries was solar and maybe a wind generator. But, those aren’t in the budget right now. Gas is (even though I’m using more than I’d like – about $27/week.)

So, the question – “How long can four six-volt golf cart batteries power a reasonably sized fridge, without a recharge of any kind?” – is tentatively answered: About ten days. Two weeks was too long, given the state of the batteries, but you have to find these limits…

There are a lot more people out here on the Yuma LTVA than when I got here. More RVs in circles and small bunches. Lots of different kinds, too – everything from little “burro” style trailers to cabover campers to big fifth wheels (like mine) to $120,000 and up class A diesel pushers.

And they’re from a lot of places – I like wandering and looking at the license plates to see where folks are from. Almost all of the western states are represented, and the western Canadian provinces, too. California, of course – Washington, Oregon, Idaho, Montana, Colorado, South Dakota and Utah (besides self) are all here, as are British Columbia and Alberta. From further east, I’ve seen Illinois, Texas, Tennessee and Ontario.

Conspicuously missing are Nevada, New York and Florida. Florida’s already warm, so they probably have no point in moving. Probably true of Nevada, too, but it’s not warm enough for me. New York has a large enough population that you would think there would be some representation, but I don’t know – maybe they’re all going down to Florida.

ALSO CONSPICUOUSLY MISSING are any Mexican plates, despite our proximity to the border. RVing doesn’t seem to be in the Mexican culture, although there are several parks down there to accommodate US and Canadian gringos wintering over. Camping in general doesn’t seem to be in the culture, in fact – something about fear of ‘bad air’ in the night. I remember taking a ferry between Cabo San Lucas and Puerto Vallarta one year – all of the Mexicans were either in cabins or bunched together in bus-station seats arranged under a covered deck. All of the gringo European, American, and Canadian passengers were on the top uncovered decks, many pitching tents, many standing on the rails with the wind in their faces.

A striking cultural difference, to be sure.

Well, if not of biblical proportions, it was certainly a comer.

We caught the tail end of the storms that have been pounding California. Actually, if you looked at a radar map of the western US, you would see the precipitation pattern forming a big, fat ‘L’, with the lower part of the ‘L’ extending into southern Arizona.

In true desert fashion, it doesn’t rain very often, but when it does, it’s a show. Winds up to 67-68 according to the camp host (who has an anemometer). Rain coming down in sheets and waves. Soaked everything and blew everything over.

Anything not soaked and not blown over peered out at the mayhem from behind protective windows, hoping they wouldn’t get soaked and blown over.

Now, this morning, I’m out surveying the aftermath, picking up pieces as are all the neighbors. Some stuff has blown clear to New Mexico and will never be retrieved. I picked up and righted a table that had blown over with three heavy grills on top. Another camper’s tent blew down.

Perhaps the closest to ‘biblical’ effect has occurred in the hollow to the north, where a few folks were camped, presumably to be sheltered from the wind.

It’s now occupied by a small lake to the north, and the residents that weren’t directly effected now have a new lake-front view.

Elsewhere, there are new pools and probably zones that were more washed out.

I WAS IN A reasonable position, out on the flats. On the one hand, exposed to more wind, but no chance of a lake surrounding me. Some of the rivulets filled and filled their function, but other than that, I snugged down and watched the mayhem from the inside.

The only incident was the generator chose this particular moment to run out of gas, and I had to brave the elements and go out to refuel it. In a few moments, I was properly soaked, but it wasn’t freezing cold, so I didn’t really mind.

A storm like that really tests how well you’re sealed up. The day before, I had gone into town, and the first part of the storm hit. I had left a couple of windows open to vent things out – and was surprised on my return to find the wind had blown driving rain clear across the inside of the trailer, giving the two computers that were set up (and I thought out of harms way) a pretty good spraying.

Lesson learned. Maybe. I like to air things out. But, next time I leave, I think I’ll close the computers up.

I’D LIKE TO get a weather station for moments like this – something I could mount on a long pole and that would record readings. I’d broadcast them on the internet, but that would take a bit of power.

Which leads to the next ‘like/wish’: I’ve seen some folks with wind generators out here. Nice thing about that is they work through the night, whereas solar is only while there’s ’sol’ to solar.

Certainly wouldn’t have lacked for wind energy during the storm, yesterday, that’s for sure.

The rest of the YPG is a vast tract of empty desert, where the army gets to blow things up.

They seem to be doing so, this AM.

It’s not inordinately loud – just an intermittent, muffled “BMMmmm” every now and again, and you can feel the compression wave stir the trailer, a bit. Not really annoying, but it’s there.

I’ve never heard it at night. But, this being the military and wars happening at no one’s convenience (including night-time), it’s not infeasible that it could happen.

I’d like to see a test, but I don’t think they’re providing tours. Could be interesting to, say, haul an old RV out there and hit it with a piece of ordnance, just to see how far the pieces would fly and how much would be left (as an engineering exercise, of course…)

Boom!!

Last night when I was driving I rounded onto a couple of raccoons startled in the headlights. A quick slowdown – one went right, the other I chased down the road a bit (at slow speed), until he finally got a clue that as long as he was still on the roadway, I was still going to be there. He finally shunted off to the side, gave a quick glance back through the mask, and ducked off the road.

There are signs posted about: “Don’t Feed the Burros”.

“Burros?”

Sure enough, yesterday, around four in the afternoon, a group of three burros meandered through the campsite, nibbling on sage here and an ocotillo bloom, there. They were oblivious to people, who stepped out of their rigs to look them over. No one tried feeding them, including myself, but the temptation was high – especially since I have a few apples on board.

Instead, I snapped a couple of shots and let them meander along their way. Maybe they’ll come back when DSW is here.

Otherwise, the critter inventory around camp has included no snakes, and surprisingly few bugs, I’m happy to report. I haven’t even seen a lizard, out here in the desert.

Likely too cold, still.

The temps are getting back in the seventies, after a long-ish interlude of them being down in the 50’s and 60’s. Some of the evenings have been particularly chilly, dropping down to 38F/3C. Last night didn’t get below 50F/10C, I don’t think, and the high is expected around 72F/22C (I’m relating all temps in F/C notation because I have a lot of European contacts. They don’t grok ‘F’s.)

We still have some cool days ahead of us (this is January, after all) – have to wait for the real warming trend.

THE CHECK VALVE FIX is holding – I jammed another washer into the check valve fitting, put a small section of hose on it, and then plugged the hose with a small, aluminum pill container I’d picked up in Quartzite, last year – the latter super-glued into the hose. Not exactly the expected application for the pill container, but I got it for something.

After a few days of gingerly testing it – so as not to wake up to an empty freshwater tank, again – I can pronounce the fix good. It’s holding, no drips.

I’m actually thinking this is a better situation, even over the long term. I don’t mind pulling the plugged hose off when I need to hook up to city water. Less things to go wrong, one less mechanical thingy to break.

I had water last night, I left the pump on as normal – empty tank, this morning.

Folded everything up, hauled the trailer over to the fill station and put in about a third tank of water and turned on the pump – sure enough, water is gushing out of the city intake hookup.

I had this fixed, just before I left, or so I thought. Now, it’s New Year’s Day and I can’t call my dealer to get the skinny or at least vent my frustration. Oh, well. Just another episode in the saga of the new Bighorn. I’ve had plenty of them in the year I’ve had it. I’ll be listing a chronology, soon.

Meanwhile, I’ve cut off a hose end, plugged it up, and stuck it on the city intake, along with an extra washer. I’m using an old light bulb base backed up with some saran wrap and locked in with a hose clamp. It’s more or less doing the job, but I’m having a difficult time getting it to seal completely. So, in the interim, we’re just turning off the pump between uses.

That’s a problem, too, because there’s so much water necessary to pressurize the system, a lot of water drains before it’s depressurized (and the leaky plug) stops leaking.

Have to come up with a better solution, but this makes things usable, at least, and we don’t have to pull into a park (ptui…).

I can get by about a week dry camping, being careful with water usage (shower every other day, rinse all the dishes at once, recycle the pasta water as dishwater, etc., etc.) But, I don’t want to have to break down the trailer and haul it over every time I need to rewater and dump. Has to be a better way.

There are a lot of solutions about camp. The most elaborate I’ve seen is little trailers with two 55 gallon drums, replete with auxilliary pumps and macerator. In this setup, the black goes through the macerator into the waste 55 gallon drum, the gray water goes in, too. The whole assembly is towed (on a specially-made trailer) over to the dump station (after closing off and disconnecting, of course), where the waste drum is dumped. Then, the trailer is hauled over to the freshwater side and the freshwater 55 gallon drum is filled, to be returned to the campsite. Once there, the freshwater is pumped from the 55 gallon drum into the freshwater tank and, voila, good for another few days.

It looks great, but is somewhat elaborate. And I’m not sure I’d have space in the pickup or the trailer for the whole affair. I’m looking for a simpler solution.

For the first attempt, I’ve picked up a used ‘blue tote’ portable dump tank (in Quartzsite) and have ordered a pickup-rooftop bladder thing from Camping World. I’ve seen them used before in the LTVA’s. It seems like the simplest solution – throw it up on the pickup roof, fill it up and let gravity otherwise do the work.

I’ll post the results when it comes in and I’ve done a couple of dump/refill cycles.