Archive for March 2012
March 30, 2012: Onstar gratuities, Bird APPropriate behaviour, Mad Dogs, and Noon-day Suns
Friday, March 30, 2012
Prepare yourselves, dear family, friends and neighbours! This is going to be a long one! I have been “internet voiceless” for too long!
It was overcast on Saturday, March 17, and when we biked up to get internet access, we overheard someone saying high winds were predicted shortly. We cycled back to Squaw Lake, and had several hours of quiet waiting, so we paddled across the lake while the breezes gathered strength.
Saturday just after supper, the wind storm suddenly hit, and a nearby tenting family – Miguel, with wife and 3 boys, scrambled to pack up in high winds. Mike and I rushed to their assistance and were able to get them safely into their vehicle in about 10 minutes. As their vehicle drove away, the winds promptly died – for an hour or so before picking up again, and providing a very shaky overnighter.
We met Dick Kocan and Laura Bolles-Kocan from Suqualmie, WA. Dick is (or was) a parasitologist, and Laura was a medical researcher. Dick’s hobby is making stone aboriginal artifacts – like spearheads and arrowheads. These artifacts are remarkable in quality!
Dick and Laura
March 18, Sunday – more overcast and strong winds continued, so we began our packing. By Sunday night we were ready for the rains that came sporadically followed by much cooler temperatures with close to freezing on Sunday night.
High winds 
Squaw Lake “camping” after Canadians start heading out.
We all left for Yuma on Monday. We stopped for a date shake at a date farm, and I called Onstar to once again point out to them that we had been unable to use our phone while at Squaw Lake. After 10 minutes of the now familiar tweets, and bings and buzzes that signify that my Onstar system is being updated, the young man announced that, because of my troubles, “3 months of service have been added to your plan.” (You may remember that last year on 4 separate occasions each Customer Support agent had added another 100 minutes to my Onstar telephone minutes.)
Eventually, we found side-by-side campsites at Rivers Edge. After locating our site, Sandy and I left to go into town going at the posted 15 mph as we left. We passed a cyclist who suddenly accelerated to pass us. “Your stairs are dragging,” he said. Neither he, nor Sandy said anything further, but the words “You’re stupid.” hung in the air – unspoken! (Perhaps I am getting a bit sensitive about that!)
Apparently, Flagstaff had 29 inches of snow last night, and snow even fell on Tucson, and at Patagonia Lake (near the southeastern AZ border with Mexico).
Tuesday, March 20 was still rather cool in the morning so I started off our bike ride with a jacket, which I ditched before 11:00 as the temperatures got to a very temperate 74 or so. We cycled to the south of town, and then back to the Fort Yuma and over to the Yuma Palms shopping Center where we scoped out restaurants for a birthday dinner tomorrow. All in all, our ride today was 42 km – a record for this year’s endeavours.
March 21 – Wednesday. I spent much of the day hanging out on the internet, answering emails, and engaging in other communications. One communication that I wanted to do was denied to me since Onstar was not getting through to a 1-800 number that I needed to call. Once again, I called the Customer Support, and though all “upgrading” processes were repeated, I was still unable to make the call. “We are sorry for your inconvenience, Mr. Dobson, and we will be adding 100 minutes to your telephone minutes with Onstar.” This is bizarre, but sort of profitable! I now have close to 500 minutes of Onstar time to be used up before May, 2013.
It was actually warm enough in the afternoon to have some pool time. Supper at the Olive Garden was a wonderful treat, and we brought enough home in doggy bags for another meal down the road. Back at the Truck House, we were delighted when granddaughter, Hannah made a connection with us on Skype, and Paula, Doug and Hannah extended well-wishes.
Mike and Marlene help me celebrate at the Olive Garden The Quilter and the Quill (I’m NOT stupid!)
March 22 – Thursday. It is time, once again to leave Yuma, and we head east in convoy towards Tucson. Our destination is Gilbert Ray State Park, which has been highly recommended to us by a number of our friends.
On our way east out of Yuma, we stopped for re-provisioning – a rather chaotic event where the two vehicles with the two males went in different directions while the two females were left to buy some small amounts of groceries. One of my stops was propane, but I was now clear that the 3.6 printed on the delivery slip was “gallons” – not “dollars”! We finally managed to rendez-vous again, gather up the women and groceries and headed east. Some miles out of Yuma, as we looked for a rest stop, a sudden flash thought rattled me – I HAD NOT PAID FOR THE PROPANE! Appropriately, signs cautioning us to slow down appeared, and warned us of a border patrol inspection. INCANTATIONS! (Altogether now… “You’re stupid.”) Sandy envisioned me in the lockup box in the back of one of the BP pickups! However, I guess that news of my pilfering had not reached them, for we were waved through – to our next stop – the Rest Stop, where I hastily used my new Onstar minutes to place a call to the garage and to pay my bill by Visa.
Gilbert Ray turned out to be as expected – a beautiful desert hillside with virtually no “lights” around, and thus a fantastic array of stars. In trying to get close up photo of a “cholla” cactus, I stood on a rock nearby. When I stepped off, something painful stabbed me in the toes. I guess I had discovered why it is called the “jumping cholla”. A very thorny end had fallen off and caught me on my bare toes – and actually penetrated through the rubber on the sandal sole! Tough stuff! However, I am made of tough stuff too, and I barely whimpered as I tweezered the very painful thorns out of my toes. (They have barbs, like fish-hooks!) (I won’t mention the two-word phrase that leaps all too easily to Sandy’s mind – or the other single words that are similar to the incantations necessary to catch bass!)
Sunset at Gilbert Ray “Jumping Cholla”
On Friday, the four of us all piled into Truck House (2 in the Truck; 2 in the House) and prepared to drive off the blocks and the 3 miles to the Desert Natural Museum. As Truck House dropped off the blocks, Sandy went around to pick them up. (They are just plastic leveling blocks.) But, as she gathered them up, she uttered one of those fishy incantations, and showed me the latest mishap – I had left the sink drain hose hanging over the side of the truck and into our modified “porta-potty” – modified for catching our “gray” water from the kitchen. As the truck rolled off the plastic blocks, it rolled onto the “gray water porta-potty” and crushed it, while pulling the hose right off its mounting on the camper. Once more… with feeling… “You’re stupid.” (Will it never end???) The museum was awesome, and the day heated up dramatically to the point where we were glad to be back in the shade of our campers in the early afternoon.
We decided to leave for Patagonia Lake State Park on Saturday March 24, and we had a beautiful drive down Hwy 83 through Sonoita and Patagonia. The sign at the turnoff to Patagonia Lake stated “Campsite Full” but we ignored that and went on down. Luckily, there was a double site left, and we rejoiced! The place was very full with the last weekend of Spring Break, however everybody was well-behaved and I don’t think that I did anything stupid. We also booked a better location for 5 days starting Sunday after the crowds leave.
Entrance to Patagonia Lake “Bird Watching”? Patagonia Lake shore
Sunday, March 25: as the crowds packed up to leave, the four of us went on trail walk that features many species of birds – and bird-watchers. So, we watched the bird-watchers watching the birds, and tried to avoid stepping in the cow bundles – in abundance. At one point, I pulled out my iPhone, and opened an App that I purchased called “iBirdPro”. I looked up the “Vermillion Fly Catcher”, as pointed out to us by one B-W’er, and hit the recorded sound button. As the recorded call sounded over and over, a confused Vermillion Fly Catcher circled us, and tried to figure out who to attack (or perhaps mate with, I am not sure what was being said on the recording.) I was very impressed and pointed out my App capabilities to a nearby B-W’er and his wife. They were NOT impressed, and walked away! A few minutes later we encountered another B-W’er pair, and I asked them about the ethics of using my recording. She gently explained that it was probably a no-no. I stand corrected, and am less stupid that I was earlier today.
Bird watching from our campsite – a Cardinal. 
Osprey with fish; jealous vulture waits turn.
After our walk, we moved our rigs to our new parking spots – on the lakeshore. A nice young couple with THREE dogs – two young yellow labs, and a small glass-biter – moved in right next to us. Beautiful dogs, but ill-disciplined and the throaty bark of the labs carried on into the evening, and then started again about 5:00 in the morning: this, for two whole days. We were not too unhappy to see them finally pack up.
For the 6 whole days that we were at Patagonia Lake, our life consisted of bird and squirrel watching from our anti-gravity chairs as we faced the trees and shrubs along the shore, kayaking daily – sometimes just touring, and other times with more focus on fishing (very successfully, as far as the fish were concerned!), and reading, reading, reading. What a crazy relief to not be distracted by chores, TV and internet! I am pretty sure that my grandchildren, nieces and nephews would not “like” this place, and would always be like looking sadly at their useless tech communication links, and going like… “like…when can we leave?”
Mike fishes the late shift
In any case, today we gave up our spots to the weekend crowd from Tucson, and headed east to Tombstone, stopping at Tombstone Territory RV Park to book a spot for this evening. This place is typical RV site with open, large, pull-through sites, and lots of “recreational” stuff for folks who hang around most of the winter. It has lots of rules, and a sign letting us know that the rattlers are active again. Thanks!
Tomorrow, we will head northeast towards Safford, AZ and the nearby State Park of “Roper Lake”. It is a small area, but we will try to catch some trout in the stocked lake. On Monday, we will head for Phoenix for our annual visit with our young cousins, the Judd family, and Tracey’s parents, (Sandy’s cousins) Shirley and Rich Henderson. We will have two nights in Phoenix, and then take indeterminate routes towards home. I will try to get one more posting up while in Arizona, and answer any emails that arrive before we leave from Phoenix.
As always, we are thinking of you all, and are now beginning to look forward to our returning home and seeing many of you – even though we will miss the cloudless warm days and cool nights to which we have become accustomed! (In Tombstone today, I figured the shoot-out at OK Corral was because the eight or so shooters, all dressed in long coats and high boots couldn’t stand the unwashed smell of each other after long days on horse-back under the hot sun – a little known fact of history!)
Love to all!
March 17, St. Patrick’s Day: Stupidity and Fire
Sunday, March 11 to Friday, March 16
Sandy and I occasionally have our friendly disagreements. There is almost always a “winner” and a “loser”. These disagreements are almost always of the non-serious variety and involve memories (or, more accurately, “memory loss”). After we had purchased our provisions in Yuma last Monday, we needed to get more water which is provided at “osmosis” stations for $1 for 5 gallons.
I pulled up with the station on my side of the truck, and she commented that our tank inlet was on the other side.
“No it isn’t.”
“Yes it is!”
“No, it ISN’T!” etc.
I got out of the truck…OOPS! Wrongo!
“Sorry, Sandy!”
“You’re stupid.”
Another week has almost gone by, and we only have 3 nights left at Squaw Lake before our 14 day stint is over. After our run into Yuma last week, we got home after dark, but in time for some music.
We have had some wonderful hikes this week, including one over to the portion of the dam that is on the east side of Senator’s Wash. That hiking trail brought us back to a gate that was clearly marked as No Trespassing. When we asked one of the more experienced folks here about hiking in that area – including walking across the dam, his comment was “You are in ‘soo’ country!” (At least that is what it sounded like. We all imagined that he was losing it and that he thought that we were in Sioux country….but no, he meant “sue” country.)
“That sign is to prevent law suits if you are injured while trespassing there.”
He may be right, because we do see folks hiking around that “restricted” area, and there have been no authoritarian patrols that I have seen – except, perhaps for the 2 ominous- looking military helicopters that periodically do a low level flyby over us!
However, I am not completely convinced. I remember a couple of years ago when Sandy and I nervously sprinted across that dam rather than go all the back around Senator’s Wash! We were sure that a meat wagon would be waiting to pick us up at the other end!
We have also taken several long bike rides – including another one around Senator’s Wash – but we retraced our ride rather than cross the dam illegally. The ride turned out to be 22 hot kilometers, and the source of another hot disagreement started by Sandy’s comment that there were 3 gullies (arroyos) to go through.
“No, there is only one.”
“Tony, there are at least 2.”
“One!” etc. etc.
Two gullies later…wrongo, Bucko!
“Sorry Sandy!”
“You’re stupid.”
(What a loser week on the argument scoreboard, but I am winning on “Sorries”!)
We had said our good-byes to Al Stevens, and Joan Kraft earlier in the week, but on our ride we encountered them again, and they said that they might return for another night at Squaw Lake. After our ride, the temperatures got quite warm, and to cool, off I swam in the lake. Refreshing! And warmer than Departure Bay in the summer. In the evening, Al and Joan joined the four of us for another night with a campfire and music. At about 10:00 it was time to shut down for the evening, and I was about to douse the embers of our little fire, when I spotted a strange, but tiny and growing cloud above the hilltops to the south of us. All of a sudden, the bottom of the cloud began to glow orange and we realized that we were witnessing the birth of a desert bush fire.
For about an hour we watched as the smoke cloud rapidly grew covering the beautiful stars above us, but because the fire was behind a rocky hill with no vegetation on it, we knew that we were safe. We never did see flames, though several times sparks could be seen lifting into the clouds. I told our friends that it was my treat – fireworks after the entertainment!
Yesterday morning there was no smoke, and Sandy and I rode our bikes past the burn where crews were putting out the last few hot spots. So, having gawked at the surprisingly small fire-scarred area, we moseyed on to cross the Imperial Dam, and then to cycle back on the road to Squaw Lake.
The rest of the day was spent reading. I finally finished that massive second book from Ken Follett – “World Without End”. If he writes another one in the series, we both think that we will pass. Meanwhile, while I was slogging through 1000 plus pages, Sandy finished a couple of books and is currently reading something recent from Yan Martel. She doesn’t sound too thrilled with it.
The weekend is here and the crowds are starting to build. Hopefully we will not have any more of the careless fire starters around.
We hear that the weather has not been too kind to you all at home. So sorry to hear that. We do think of you all, but do NOT miss the Spring mix!
Thanks to all for the comments. Feel free to initiate a letter to either of us!
We love to get news from home. Replying to the blog may be a bit impersonal and public.
Best wishes and love to you all – wherever you are in the world (Nicki, Alex, Judi, etc.) and we will look forward to hearing YOUR news! Happy St. Patrick’s Day!!! (Neil, et al!)
PS. For some reason iPad has balked at uploading pics, so I will have to add them on Monday when we return to Yuma.
Quill (Tony) and Quilter (Sandy)
Abiding by the spirit of the law???
Desert cycling: “One gulley, two gulleys, three gulleys…Oops!”
Squaw Lake bass fisher
A tunnel through the reeds along a shore pathway
Mike faces a twilight row home
“Fire’s burning!”
The beach at Senator’s Wash
Sandy at Senator’s Wash
Al and Joan
Clear sunrise after a smoky night
The fire aftermath
March 12, 2012: Supply run to Yuma
Roadquill 3: Monday March 5 to Sunday, March 11, 2012 –
On Monday, needing some headache medication which is way more expensive in BC, Sandy and I drove to Los Algodones and walked across the border. (The pills cost about $.65 each here, as compared to about $9 apiece in BC.)By the time we had walked back to the US, warm weather without wind was setting in, and it was time to head to Squaw Lake. After a couple of stops, we made our way on Hwy. 95 towards the Colorado River. The camping area (actually a parking lot) looked rather full as we crossed the dam, but we found a nice spot with a space next door for Mike and Marlene, with our door facing north so that the inside of Truck House is always in the shade. Our neighbours, Al (Stevens) and Joan (Kraft), on one side are from Sicamous, BC. We had a late supper after a paddle on a very warm afternoon. (88C).
We had a chance to paddle and cycle on Tuesday, but fishing was unsuccessful. Friends of Marlene and Mike – Sverre and Jane Jensen – from Powell River – showed up in the early afternoon, and parked on the other side of the Harris’ Adventurer camper.
We looked like an ad from Fraserway with three Adventurer campers in a row. An early happy hour was cut short when the promised high winds showed up. Gale-force winds (40 to 60 mph) howled all night bringing clouds of dust. We lashed everything down, but all vehicles shook mightily during the next 20 hours or so. On Wednesday evening, Sverre and I got our guitars out and shared music for a couple of hours, before very chilly air sent us all packing to bed.
For the next two days, we hiked, biked, and when the wind permitted, kayaked and fished without much success, though Mike did catch a good sized bass which he put back because someone had given us a feed of catfish. As usual, I spend a lot of time waving my fly rod over the water and muttering incantations which I make up as I go. Some of them are probably not meant for fishy ears. Hooks catch in various places in my body, and the kayak spins the wrong way on its anchor, putting my back to the place where the REALLY BIG BASS lurk. Meanwhile, as I untangle my lines, breezes carry me deeply into tall reeds within the range of my anchor line – which has dragged on the mucky bottom. I finally get the lines sorted out and the anchor pulled, and my paddles working again when I discover, as I finish backing out of the forest of reeds, that my deadly “popper” lure is caught on a reed – deep within the patch that I just backed away from. More incantations are required before the situation is once again clear. I look around to make sure that no one was watching my antics or being offended by my magic phrases. Later, the evening ended with an invitation to join our neighbours, Al and Joan at their campfire. More music!On Friday, after Sverre and Jane pulled up stakes and headed north, we hiked, read, cycled and then rested before heading off to practice more fishing skills and try to limit the no-no’s. Our short hiking trip led us to a small herd of wild burros. I slowly crept towards them hoping for a good picture before the bolted. Step by step – I inched towards them . Finally, I slowly took out my camera and aimed and snapped a picture. Almost immediately, two of them split off and started hoofing it towards us!!! Either I was successful in looking like an ass, or we could be in danger from nips or kicks if we didn’t produce treats. Other than Sandy, I had nothing to offer them, so I had to stamp to scare them back. So much for creeping up!
On our cycling trip across the dam, I purchased a day of WiFi time at the desert camp at the top of the hill. Thus, we were able to learn that our niece, Montana’s basketball team had been ranked 6th in the Province, and was off to a good start at the Provincials in Kamloops, that our other niece, Olivia, had scored 22 of 32 points in a final game 33-32 loss to Nanaimo Secondary School, and that the teachers’ strike is on – in miserable weather. We are delighted on the former two accounts, and sad about the latter item. We appreciate all the news from home. And, our Lindsay family will now be enjoying their Spring Break in Hawaii!
Okay – now that I have been schooled by the fish, and by my mentor, Mike, I can report a success! Last evening, (Friday) after the sun had set, I caught a bass on a popper fly. This was only the second bass that I have caught in my life, and it was a moment to celebrate with a fresh new string of incantations, and fist pumping. (The first fish I ever caught was a 5 lb. bass in the Kingston locks in 1951 when I was 5 years old. I still have the newspaper picture and article of that event. The fish in that picture was about 4 times as big as yesterday’s catch.)
On Saturday, the place filled up with weekend fishers, while Harris’ headed into Yuma for more provisions. We lazed, and chatted, and read. Fishing at sunset was unsuccessful, but, after a large bass jumped and cleared his hook, I did hear Mike using the chants and incantations that he had taught me. They carried clearly across the still lake waters. another campfire was a good ending to the day.
A “music jam” at the desert RV park nearby convinced me to strap on my guitar and head there to see what it was all about. Sandy and I rode our bikes over in the early afternoon, to find about 2 dozen musicians – guitar players, fiddlers, electric keyboards, banjos and violins all sitting in the shade of a ramada – in an “orchestra” kind of arrangement. I pulled out my guitar at the back of the audience, but a lady named Maria, came over to ask me to join the musicians. For a while, I joined all the others as one by one, each musician played a song of their choice – accompanied by all the others. Except for one gospel song, all the tunes were country. When it came to my turn, the only song that I could think of that would suit all the others was “City of New Orleans”. It was good fun, and seemed to go over well. Then, when everyone had had a turn, they started again at the beginning. I had had enough of heat, and my fill of country music so S and I saddled up and rode our mountain broncs home.
Our showers have an interesting warning on the door…
My 92 year old mother will be enjoying her latest visitation to Israel. I just hope that cooler heads will continue to keep the peace while she is there.
Our love and best wishes to our family and friends at home, – in BC, or in Hawaii (or heading there), or on the road, or in other Provinces, or those of you who aren’t too far from us here in the southwest.
The Quill (Tony) and the Quilter (Sandy)
Saturday, March 3, 2012: Travelling to Yuma
On Monday last, we said our good-byes to the Lindsays in Walnut Grove, and then headed through the border crossing at Aldergrove. After a fuel up, we pulled into the first rest-stop after Bellingham to wait for Mike and Marlene to meet us. A horn honk before I had even turned off the engine let us know that our timing was impeccable! Our planned stops are identical to last year’s.
Hours of driving with only pit stops and fuel stops got us to Woodburn RV (just south of Portland) before dark. There were no quilt store stops, but Truck House required a cooling-off lunch stop at Cabela’s in Lacey! (I know, I am spoiled!) Temperatures throughout the day stayed below 7 C, but the roads were all dry and clear. What a treat. We were to pay for this pleasantness on Tuesday!
Our drive on Tuesday began well enough with clear roads and no precipitation. However, after Siskiyou Pass, as we rolled into California, Mt. Shasta was completely hidden in whitish clouds. The “Shasta Pass” from Weed, CA through to Redding was a very difficult ride with heavy cross-winds and blinding snow that, fortunately, did not stick on the roads. 
By the time that we arrived in Red Bluff, the worst of the weather seemed to be behind us, except for the very cold wind. Wrongo! During the night Truck House rocked and groaned as high winds tore through the northern “Chico Valley”. We were tired enough to be able to sleep through most of it, but at 5:00 a.m. the wind picked up to screech force and delivered a wild thunderstorm with crashes almost in sync with flashes! Pounding hail sealed the deal – time to get up!
We learned later, that, like last year, we had just made it through before the northern pass highways were closed. Broken branches, and hail covered the ground. There was nobody in the swimming pool!
Wednesday’s travel on I-5 to Bakersfield was relatively uneventful. We arrived at Orange Grove about 4:00 p.m. and as we registered, a line-up or RVs quickly formed. By the time we had finished the paperwork, and filling up our propane tanks, the RV Park was full, and even the overflow parking was occupied.
The propane fill-up was a bit of an embarrassing botch-up. A friendly Latino quickly filled both tanks, and when I asked, “How much” he replied “Six”. So, I had Sandy fish out a five and a one, which I handed to him. He looked very pleased, but then I realized, he was giving me a quizzical look. Of course! I got another $1 from Sandy and handed him this as a tip. Then, he handed me a slip of paper with a “6” on it, and said I should take it into the office to pay for it. Now I was puzzled, and told him that I thought that I had paid. He explained that no, I had to pay in the office. He explained that the “6” was “gallons” and then he kindly gave me the $7 back. (I did give him a tip, but I guess he had initially thought that the whole thing was a tip on the eventual $17 for the propane.) Sandy’s simple assessment of the transaction: “You’re stupid!”
Thursday’s travel took us through Kramer’s Junction, Barstow, and Banning to a rest stop outside Palm Springs. The chilly wind was blowing so hard, that all the wind generators on the hill were spinning, and the Truck House kept rocking up against the curb.
On the road afterwards, we watched as the temperature climbed from 9C up to 24C within a few miles. The wind kept picking up for the rest of the day, and by the time that we were settled in Rivers Edge RV on Thursday afternoon about 4:00, temperatures had dropped, and dust was really drifting. However, we received a warm “welcome back”!
Friday was a day for some Yuma shopping and getting fishing licences for Squaw Lake. We tried to sit outside in the late afternoon for drinks, but chilly temps, high winds and dust drove all 4 of us into Truck House for the social event. I tried sitting outside with a T-shirt and shorts 3 times, but kept having to go back inside and change back to jeans and fleeces.
Today, we sit inside reading, because again, it is a bit chilly (10 C) and breezy. We had hoped to bicycle into Algodones, but that will have to wait. The swimming pool is warm, but no one is using it. (Too painful to get out, I think.)
On Monday, we will head north to Squaw Lake for 10 days to 2 weeks of “desert camping”. (We will actually be in a parking lot on a beautiful lake.) Mike has given me some plastic worms in the hopes that I can have more success at pulling in fish this year. However, nothing suggests that my sad record from the past will be broken.
We will be thinking of all our school-aged children and teacher-aged friends in the coming days. What a mess in BC education!
Love and best wishes to all!
The Quill and the Quilter (Tony and Sandy)
roadquill1 