Points south....

Ok, ok, ok......I told folks I would “try” to post, so here......

Sunday, 1/7/28.......Picacho Peak State Park. About 30 miles west of Tucson. Drifted in just at dusk.  Red sky quickly fading to gray. Then black. Very very black! Tent set up with the waning light. Dinner of ham (left over from lunch) burritos by glow of head lights. Jewels of moving lights stretching along I-10 west and east. The hum of trucks to serenade as we do chores (my writing. Sarah organizing something yet again!). Herman patiently waiting by the the tent door until allowed in to go to bed. Damn dog’s been sleeping in the car all day and still can’t get into his tent bed fast enough!

Today drove from Anza Borrego Desert State Park 150 miles east of San Diego. Tamarac Campground with the only available shade (imported tamarack trees) and no potable water. Coming from a land where water routinely falls from the sky, one has to adapt a new mind set in the desert. Don’t expect readily available water and certainly don’t expect it to be free! We plan our day where we can obtain water and adjust our activity accordingly. Oh, and after the first day, we remember to water the dog! Snipits: a dozen hot sports cars racing past the campground at 7am; big horn sheep on the hill; morning coffee clutch of the guys lined up in formation with their dusty golf carts at Ironwood Resort bitching about cholesterol and salt restrictions; shopping at Walmart, the traveler’s oasis, hit and run rear ended on freeway in San Diego at rush hour (no apparent damage but pissed me off!)

Awakened at 6am to the most spectacular red and blue sky backlighting 15 foot saguaro cacti. The air cool and winds now calm. Fuel about gone for the stove so only a cup of lukewarm coffee before hitting the road east.

The ordered chaos from the Tetris School of car packing has deteriorated into the reality of willy-nilly! Easy access to luggage is now accomplished by not even bothering to zip bags closed. Torn maps of Calif are now at the bottom of the pile, overlaid by Arizona and New Mexico. Charging cables snaking here and there searching for hungry batteries. Devises 

tucked into nooks and crannies. Chip bags and empty coffee cups migrating around and warm coats still pilled on the floor of the back seat, obviously no longer needed. Herman riding copilot on top of his kennel bored with head hanging down in pretty good imitation of Snoopy on his dog house. Search of local radio stations for NPR reveals right wing talk show or Mexican music. We settle on Mexican. 

Trying to coordinate and time our arrival in Austin tomorrow for the convenience of our friend and host, Gene, we get a room at the Super 8 in Van Horn, Texas. Should actually be able to get up and moving at dawn rather than breaking camp for an hour. McDonalds right next door for breakfast. Dinner tonight cleared out our larder of left over ham, wilted lettuce, questionable cheese, and instant microwaved mashed potatoes. Oh, and finishing off the Jim Beam. Sarah now over her panic about loosing her checkbook. Pulled every piece of luggage and assorted boxes and bags out of the car, emptied the contents, cussed and moaned...then found it in her purse. Yep, Jim Beam’s about gone!