Doing Laundry On the Road - Winter 2018

This morning was a chilly 38 degrees
at Hi Jolly Campground
in Quartzsite, Arizona
this morning!

It was also laundry day. 

Luckily I brought a 50 foot line of paracord. 

I hung one in from a tree and one and from my van.

I separated my items and decided to do underwear first, 

then blouses, then pants, then socks. 

I did my sheet last because I wanted to let it soak.

I put about 3 inches of hot water in my black bucket and put in my underwear. After letting it soak for maybe 10 minutes, I used the plunger “washing machine“ that I purchased to agitate the clothes. It actually worked great and I’m really happy with it. I originally brought a top for the bucket. It went to my son’s beer making kit but I quickly learned that the hole for the handle of the plunger needs to be in the center not around the outside edge. Oh doh!  When you’re getting ready to do this van dwelling trip, there are things that don’t occur to you until you’re actually in the middle of the process.

After plunging the underwear then I washed each piece separately. It’s much easier to plunge one item at a time than to try to fill the bucket and plunge it. I think the clothes get cleaner doing one item at a time. Luckily, with this lifestyle, there are not huge piles of laundry.

After everything was washed I fed my water to a local tree and put 3 inches of clean water in the bucket. I wrung as much water out of the clothes as I could and then added each piece to the clean water. This would’ve been a great time to have my great grandmother’s wringer to wring those clothes out. 

But I managed OK.

I used safety pins to hang my clothes out. This was a trick I learned on the Camino Santiago. It’s especially handy for here in the desert where the wind can quickly ruin your wash by knocking it off the line.

So that’s it. My laundry is finished. The sun will come around this way in about an hour and I expect everything to dry quickly in the breeze.  It feels so good to have it done and I actually enjoyed this experience. And an extra bonus is that wonderful smell of clothes that have dried in the sunshine.  

I’ll sleep really good tonight!

Ma Cato used to tell me I was born in the wrong century and that I would’ve been a great pioneer. I can remember her saying, “most people couldn’t live that way, Sis, but I believe you could and you’d be happy!”

I agree with her. 

I love being out here in the wilderness. 

And I’m happy to do these menial chores without the modern conveniences.

I’m using the rinse water to give my van a quick wash on the inside 

and get some of the desert dust out of it. 

So laundry day also turned into cleaning day a

nd I finished by 10 AM. 

Not bad!

View from my van door:

Anza Borrego - Loving the Sunsets!

My Ma Cato loved to watch the sunrise and sunset, and I guess I got that gene from her.  I can't get enough of it.  There's just such a feeling of being grounded and of being a sacred part of the ALL that floods my soul during the time of the rising and setting sun.  They are my two favorite times of day.

My Ma Cato and I used to lie on our backs out on Sunset Rock at Sequoia National Park and watch the sunset. Or she'd toss a quilt on the grass and we'd watch the big fluffy clouds passing by. I miss these quiet, introspective times with that wise, open-hearted matriarch. I can only hope that with age, I might also lose my tendency to be judgmental and to inherit her ability to love.

And so, these times when I'm all alone in the quiet evening, watching the sun sink over a mountain, I can just hear her say, "Isn't God's good earth just a miracle, Sis?"

Yes, Ma, it is . . .

Here are some photos I took while camped on a plateau near Borrego Springs this past week. I could look east and see the moon rising, and at the same time turn west to see the sunset.

This is a pano shot showing the moon rising on the left and the sun setting on the right.

Sunrise over the flats

These photos don't do the colors justice. Right now I only have my iPhone for taking photos. If anyone has suggestions for lenses or apps to purchase for the iPhone that will do a better job of capturing color please comment below.

Cornelia White House Palm Springs

While in Palm Springs, I visited the Cornelia White House. This is the second oldest structure in Palm Springs. It was originally a bunglow from Palm Springs' first hotel and later the home of Miss Cornelia White, a New York Native who settled in Palm Springs with her sister, Sr. Florilla White, in 1913.

I loved loved LOVED this little house and would give anything to live in something like this today.  Perfect in every way!  But then, I grew up with all those grandparents and this felt "like home" to me.

Love this kitchen!

Cornelia White about a year before her death

Anza Borrego 2018

Oh, what a wonderful place!
I loved the metal sculptures and the beautiful canyons. 

I’m almost as grizzled as this tortoise!  

This is huge!  Twice as tall as my van. 

After the morning walk, a shampoo felt good!

Then some afternoon sunbathing. 

I’m digging this place. Looking forward to the super moon tonight!

I may spend one more day here but haven’t decided. 

I haven’t quite settled into doing nothing. 

But the price of gas may keep me hobbled. 

Murray Canyon Loop Palm Springs

I walked the 4 mile Murray Canyon Loop yesterday morning. It was an easy beautiful walk but I was surprised to find the 12 foot waterfall was about a 2 foot trickle. Otherwise though, a hike worth walking. 

Cutting Back - First Round

Took out one milk crate and the rack. 

My kitchen. 

Yesterday I decided I had about twice as much in the van than I needed. I should have known. I’ve spent 2 months each year, for ten years, walking the Caminos of Spain with only what would fit in a 30L pack. So I’m not sure why I thought I needed 4 pair of jeans and 6 shirts on my van adventure!

At first I thought I’d box it all up and ship it back home to Portland. But then I realized I could drive an hour and a half and leave it at the desert house until I return to Portland in April. So I drove back to desert Hot Springs, and today I cleared out about half of my clothes, food, and other items I really don’t need.

I decided I could live without for things like the ice chest and extra jeans and shirts. I dumped the screen drawer and one of the milk crates. I kept all of my watercolor supplies but got rid of about half of my tools.  In the end I ended up with about 2 feet more space than I had before and I’m really happy with the results.

I visited my evil twin Vicki while I was here. We sat in a hot tub this morning and caught up. It was a nice visit and I really enjoyed the gift she gave me when I left. Thanks Vicki!  I want more!

I struggled with a couple of days of depression this week. There was a combination of sudden changes all at once that pushed me over the edge. I don’t often get depressed but when I do, I usually hit bottom fast and bounce right back. It doesn’t take much for me to remember to count my blessings   I have a wonderful life, 3 beautiful sons, 3 talented grandchildren, and some good old friends who love me. I wake up healthy and alive every morning and I’m very grateful. 

Tomorrow I’m going to the desert museum in Palm Springs and then I’m going to do some hiking up in the canyon. Afterwards, I may camp out at the casino for the night - the following day I’ll head to the Salton Sea for a few days. Then on to Borrego Springs to do some birding and hiking. I need to start slowly training for the spring Camino. My tailbone is still awfully sore from the fall I took on my son’s steps; I’m out of shape and need to get busy. May will be here before I know it. Time to get busy walking!

Looking forward to the next few weeks. 

Love,

Annie

Ehrenberg (Feb 2018)

A little dust storm made for an eerie sunset tonight. 

I pulled in to Ehrenberg and tried to follow the directions on Bob’s YouTube video. A gal pulling a trailer came up behind me and asked if I was OK which was nice, and I followed her into the camp. There are probably 20 to 30 rigs here but no really established camp that I’ve seen yet. Of course I’m new to this, and maybe this is the way it rolls.

Dinner was crackers and hummus and an orange. 

Don’t really feel like cooking until I settle in somewhere. 

Tomorrow morning I wake up with the chickens, 

make myself some coffee, 

and head into Quartzsite to see if I can find 

any of the women from my Facebook groups.

My tailbone is still awfully sore from the fall I took in Portland

 on my sons icy steps. 

I’m hoping that’ll ease up soon 

because it makes it hard to sit for any length time. 

I’m also hoping that this is just a bruise and that I didn’t crack my tailbone. 

Not sure how long it’ll take to heal but I wish it would hurry.

My van is feeling a little cramped tonight 

and now I’m wishing I had brought the tent 

that I left in Desert Hot Springs. 

But I think once I set up camp and get my table 

and my water in my ice chest all out of here it’ll be fine. 

Payday isn’t until Friday so I’m going to Boondock until then. 

On Friday I may go ahead and get a long-term visitors permit 

and stay in a regular campground for a few weeks.

It’s 6:08 PM, the sun has gone down, 

and I’m hoping this dust clears because I’d love to see the stars tonight 

before I go to sleep.

More tomorrow. 

Sweet dreams world. 

Love, 

Annie

Leaving DHS (February 2018)

This is why I love the desert. 

The sunrises are absolutely spectacular, as are the sunsets. 

 I can’t wait to get my watercolors out and try to capture the beauty. 

I have been here in Desert Hot Springs for a few days.

Joe has a desert house here and though it's nice,

I ache to get back on the road.

Today I leave Desert Hot Springs to move south. 

I’m not sure yet where I will stop. 

I am exploring two places; Anza Borrego and Ehrenberg. 

I’ll make my mind up after I do a little more digging. 

The winds are picking up this morning 

and I’d like to get down the road before they hit. 

The desert windstorms are known to take the paint right off of the car. 

So I don’t want to get stuck in it. 

I’m hoping the weather will be calmer down the road.

The further south I get, the more relaxed I feel. 

I’m looking forward to some quiet nights under the beautiful starlit sky. 

Stay tuned.

Love,

Annie

You Can't Go Back

I arrived in Hanford two days ago.

Hanford, the place where I was born and spent so many wild, wonderful, magical childhood days.

There’s a familiar smell here in this Big Valley.  I remember, as a child, waking up to this smell every morning. It’s a pungent mixture of hayfields, tractor oil, cows, and tule fog. And it speaks to my soul. It makes me want to throw on my jeans and run out into the middle of the cornfield; to feel the hot dust puff up between my toes; to lie on my back, chew on sourgrass, and study the white fluffy clouds. When I close my eyes and listen, I hear the voices of my past. Those voices move me, almost to tears. Where did that frightened but stubborn little girl go? I want to put my arms around her and encourage her to keep putting one foot in front of another. I want to tell her, “Don’t let your spirit be crushed!  Follow your heart!  It’s ok!  You’ll be fine.”

People who are born in this little town are expected to stay and die here. That was not a gene I inherited. I sometimes laugh and say I should have married that farmer, but deep inside I know that isn’t true. I can remember sitting for hours, pouring over old National Geographic magazines and dreaming of all of those far away places I would visit when I grew up.  I was a wanderer from the very beginning. The open road, adventure, and freedom called to me and the ache to explore the world ran deep. There are steep prices you pay for that type of freedom. It is only now, in my mature years, that I realize the price of that freedom. As I ponder over whether or not freedom was worth the price, I come to the same conclusion.  Each time I follow that thread, I have to admit to myself there  is not much I would change.

Something here has changed, however, either in the town or in me. The change feels strong and yet poignant.  While my heart swells at the wide open spaces, the sunrise, the whistle of the trains, the scent, there’s something inside me that whispers to move on... move out... don’t stop here. Don’t let yourself be trapped. Love and adventure is the spice of life and it’s waiting just around the corner.

It’s the Autumn of my life, not the winter. That red in my leaves is the ache I feel for the heat of the sun... the touch of a lover... a secret smile across a room... a brief flirting moment that makes me feel all green and juicy again.

My friend Joe says, “You’re either green and growing or ripe and rotting.”  I still have some growing to do!

So I will leave tomorrow.

I feel a deep need to spend some time with myself, with my thoughts, with my feelings about recent events.  I need some space, some quiet time with no sound to distract me except the wind.  I need to play my guitar, sing sad songs, reminisce and relive some of the more precious moments of my wonderful life. I need to gaze into the fire and soak up the sunrise.

There are things you can return to and things you cannot.

I am learning to discern the difference.