I towed my boat from home to its summer home in Bellingham on Friday. It was a stressful, time-consuming non-event. The road over Stevens Pass was wet, but not icy. A landslide closed the northbound lanes of I-5 just south of my destination, so I had to take a detour with an oversized load in tow.

Fun times!

Anyway, shortly after arrival, they lifted my boat off its trailer and blocked it up in the boatyard. I need a bit of bottom work done so it’ll be on the hard here for about a week. I’ll be living aboard — yes, on blocks — for about 10 days.

As they were working, I used my phone to record the process on video. Here’s that video, edited for length — the process took about an hour — and narrated. I think it’ll give most folks a look at something they’ve never seen in real life.

Here’s the video and description on YouTube:

It’s boating season again in the Pacific Northwest! I’ve towed my boat from its winter home in my garage to its summer home in Bellingham, WA. In this video, I show the process of removing the boat from the trailer with a boat lift and blocking it up in the yard. The whole thing is narrated (and I can’t wait for viewers to comment on all my mistakes). If you’re like me, you’re fascinated by the use of highly specialized equipment and skilled workers to perform tasks that most people have no idea about. Enjoy the video!

Many thanks to the folks at Seaview North for letting me record them at work. I know my boat is in good hands.

And remember, my boat is in a charter program at San Juan Yachting in Bellingham. YOU can take it out for a week on your own or with me as your captain. Visit https://www.SanJuanYachting.com/ for details. Tell them Maria sent you!

—

My goal is to make more videos about my boat trips and other cool things I do. Support me by subscribing to this channel, liking this (and other videos), and commenting on this video to let me know what you like, don’t like, or want to see.

Support my blogging and video efforts!
– DONATE: https://square.link/u/4Ykg9nzH
– BUY ME A COFFEE: https://bit.ly/BuyMariaACoffee
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Read about my Great Loop Adventure: http://www.MyGreatLoop Adventure.com/
Check out my personal blog at http://www.aneclecticmind.com/
See my flying videos at http://www.youtube.com/c/FlyingMAir

At the end of the boating season, instead of leaving my boat in the water (in a slip I pay for regardless of occupancy), I bring it home for safekeeping. After all, it is trailerable and I have a trailer and truck to move it. I also have a cavernous garage where the boat fits snugly with whatever other stuff I cram in there. This is infinitely better for the boat than leaving it in the water all winter for stuff to grow on the bottom and moisture to grow mold and mildew on canvases. Honestly, how could they expect me to leave my boat there when I have this option?

Having the boat at home before the season also gives me a chance to do some maintenance, especially on the bottom. This year, I’d planned to do some touch-up paint on the bottom, put PropSpeed on the prop, and wash and wax the red painted part of the hull. To that end, I got to work this weekend. And since I think the bottom of my boat is kind of interesting, I made a video of what it looks like before I scraped off the dead sea life.

Here’s that video, along with the description that appears on YouTube.

Description:

Boating season is quickly approaching and I’m prepping my boat to be launched before month end. Right now, the boat is on its trailer in my garage, staying cozy warm and waiting for attention. In this video, I show you what’s under the waterline on the stern of the boat and the kind of work I need to do before launching it. My cat, Rover, makes a special guest appearance.

Keep in mind that my boat is available for charter through San Juan Yachting in Bellingham WA. Take it out for a week in the beautiful San Juan Islands! Or, if you’d like me to take you around for a few days and teach you how to drive a single engine trawler like this, get in touch on my boating blog: https://mygreatloopadventure.com/contact-me/

My goal is to make more videos about my boat trips and other cool things I do. Support me by subscribing to this channel, liking this (and other videos), and commenting on this video to let me know what you like, don’t like, or want to see.

Support my blogging and video efforts!
– DONATE: https://square.link/u/4Ykg9nzH
– BUY ME A COFFEE: https://bit.ly/BuyMariaACoffee
– SPONSOR a future video: https://square.link/u/4Ykg9nzH

Read about my Great Loop Adventure: http://www.MyGreatLoop Adventure.com/
Check out my personal blog at http://www.aneclecticmind.com/
See my flying videos at http://www.youtube.com/c/FlyingMAir

This winter, I spent some time with my friends Jan and Tiff in their Arizona home. I’ve known them since 2013 when I swapped my old golf cart for a towable helicopter landing platform. Back then, they owned a helicopter flight school in Mesa AZ. I got to be good friends with them and their partner, Woody. In those days, Jan and Woody were airline pilots for America West, which was eventually gobbled up and merged into US Air. Now they’re both retired and still living in Arizona. They sold the flight school a few years ago.

Enter Tovala

Anyway, neither Jan or Tiff cook so they basically eat out or order in all the time. I’ve become used to it when I visit with them and often pick up the tab (when I’m fast enough) when we eat out. But this time was a little different. I noticed that they had a fancy toaster oven on their countertop. Long story short: they’d signed up for a meal kit program and the oven had come with it.

The program is called Tovala and it’s absolutely perfect for anyone who can’t cook or simply doesn’t want to cook. You sign up and get the oven, which is a smart device (more on that in a moment). You commit to a certain number of meals per week — the minimum is 4 — and they come once a week in an insulated box full of little meal boxes, often with meat or fish in a vacuum-sealed pouch. Everything is fresh and the quality seems to be good. At mealtime, you open a little box, follow the instructions on the card to put meal components into aluminum foil trays, pop the trays in the oven, scan a QR code on the card, and push the oven’s start button. It’s automatically programmed to cook the meal for you, usually in oven mode. (The oven can also toast, broil, and air fry.) When it’s done, you plate it up, add provided sauces and/or toppings, and eat it.

Here’s an unboxed Tovala meal. Everything comes in the tan box. Take the plastic off the trays, put them in the oven, scan the code, and the oven cooks it. Some meals do require a bit of assembly before cooking, but it’s all so easy a 5 year old could do it.

It’s absolutely idiot-proof, making it possible for someone who can’t cook to get a hot meal at home without ordering out. This is perfect for Jan and Tiff, mostly because Tovala meals tend to be healthier than restaurant or takeout food. (More on that in a moment, too.)

Worth a Try

I’m the opposite of Jan and Tiff when it comes to meals. I know how to cook and I can do it pretty well when I want to. I actually like to cook — sometimes. But I also like to have a wide variety of food and don’t necessarily want to track down recipes, shop for ingredients, and then make a whole recipe for my one-person household. Yes, I do it once in a while and I normally eat leftovers the next day and then vacuum seal and freeze additional portions. But I also have a busy life and cooking can become a chore. So I eat a lot of what I’ve put in the freezer or make meals of almond butter or avocado on crackers, or ramen with veggies, or even store bought or frozen prepared foods. It’s just not good for me in so many ways.

I thought Tovala might give me the variety I crave without the effort of making it myself or the cost/bother of going out to eat. (Understand that I live 10 miles from town and no one delivers up here.) I did the math and the price wasn’t outrageous. 4 meals a week cost about $65, which is $16-$17 per meal. I’d spend at least that if I went out, and I’d still have at least 20 miles of driving to get into town and back.

And yes, I know I can eat a lot cheaper with groceries. I’m not an idiot. I can and often do prepare a good balanced meal based around a normal meat or fish protein for under $10. But I considered this a treat and, if I could, I’d just get two or three meals a week from Tovala.

Observations

I’ve had four weeks of deliveries so far.

The first week was pretty much a loss; the food arrived on Friday and by Saturday morning I was on my way to Florida for a boat captain gig for a week. I left the food for my housesitter who was not impressed.

The second and third weeks were pretty good. Everything cooked pretty well with just a scan and the touch of a button and the vegetable or pasta combinations were good. The beef dishes were very good, which surprised me. I quickly discovered that the chicken and fish cook better than the pork, which dries out. The side salads were a sad little joke, barely more than garnish with dressing.

But, in general, the portions were good and the food was definitely fresh. I could always eat more — but then again, if I like something enough, I could probably eat it until I exploded.

I liked the flavors, which is why I’d signed up. So in that sense, I was satisfied.

But Is it Really a Good Match for Me?

Unfortunately, I came back from Florida realizing that I needed more calorie-conscious meals. (Yes, while I was traveling this winter, I porked up, as usual, and needed to start dieting again to feel more fit.) And what I was facing from Tovala were extremely tasty but not very diet-friendly food.

You see, you need to order (or skip) your meals at least 10 days before you actually get them. For example, the meals I’ll get on Friday, March 27 have to be finalized by Wednesday, March 18. So because I’d ordered tasty comfort food before going on my trip, I faced two weeks of that instead of more calorie conscious choices.

And I’ll be frank: their idea of “calorie smart” is not the same as mine. I expect a lower calorie meal to come in at less than 500 calories, preferably less than 400. (And yes, it’s doable. I made grilled salmon with a salad the other day with a total calorie count of just 170.) I think they’d have to lean heavily on their puny salads to make that happen. I’m capable of grilling or baking a protein with a handful of power greens, some tomatoes, and a tablespoon of dressing, so I don’t need something like that delivered. (Maybe someone who can’t cook or simply doesn’t have time to cook or shop might feel differently. Think Jan and Tiff.)

Of course, once I started tracking calories, I started looking very closely at the nutritional information for the Tovala meals I was eating. Calories were important, but so was sodium and added sugars. And what I was learning was that some Tovala meals were definitely fine-tuned for flavor instead of nutrition. I know that adding a lot of salt and sugar is a restaurant/catering ploy to make their food taste better, but in my mind, a savory entree should have zero added sugar. And come on folks! Stop with the salt. It’s easy to add salt but impossible to remove it.

Going back to the 10 days advance notice, however, this has proved difficult for me, as my calendar is always in flux. Last month’s last minute captain gig is just one example: I got the call on Friday and was on a plane Saturday afternoon. One of the things I like most about my life is its spontaneity — I can decide at any time what I want to do and when I want to do it. Having to lock down whether I get meals 10 days before they arrive means that if I change my plans, I need to either take the meals with me (which is only possible when I have a way to store and cook them) or find someone else to take them for me. That just adds another thing to think about when I make or change plans.

AI Support

I had ordered an egg rolls add-on for one of my meals (before I knew I really wanted to watch my calories) and tried to remove it. I couldn’t figure out how. Neither the app nor the website made it possible to remove just an add-on item. (In hindsight, I suspect I could have removed that entire meal and maybe the add-on would have gone with it. Then I could have re-added the meal. That might have worked.)

I tried technical support chat in the app and my highly specific request was handled by an AI that provided me with links to options that did not apply. When I said I wanted to chat with a person, I was told to enter my email and message. I did. No person joined the chat, but I did get an email response — from an AI. This included instructions to remove the add-on that simply did not work. I tried chat again, told it I wanted a human, and waited. Within about 4 minutes, a human joined the chat. Based on the subsequent chat, I am 98% sure she was human. She resolved the problem by finding the item and removing it for me.

But the whole thing left a bad taste in my mouth. (No pun intended.) A problem that I struggled with over the course of more than 40 minutes with a ton of frustration could have been quickly resolved if a human had answered the chat in the first place.

I cannot tell you how much I hate dealing with AI systems for technical support or customer service. 90% of the time, these systems cannot resolve my problem. All they do is tell me that the company I’m dealing with cares so little about their customers that they won’t even hire a sufficient human support staff. Instead, my needs are handled by a fucking machine that can’t even get things right.

And if you try to tell me in comments that “this is the future,” let me respond right now: only if you let it. I won’t. Don’t we deserve better when we are paying for a product or service? I know I do. Stop following the rest the herd and say no to AI.

Not For Me

So after four weeks of Tovala meals — two of which are still in my refrigerator — I have decided that Tovala is not for me. Between my fluctuating schedule, my need for more calorie conscious meal choices (that do not rely on a salad I can make better myself), and my absolute hatred of AI-based support, I don’t think I can continue using Tovala on a regular basis. That might change when I get my weight down to where it needs to be or spend more time at home, but for now, no.

Don’t get me wrong. If you’re like Jan and Tiff, can’t be bothered cooking, and are tired of the bother and expense of eating out or ordering in, Tovala might be perfect for you. (If you want to try it, here’s a referral code that’ll get you a free oven.) The food is good and fresh and the meal choices are interesting. And it seriously can’t be any easier to prepare your food.

But I will be getting two more weeks of Tovala food. You see, when you sign up and get the oven for free or at a discount, you agree to buy 6 weeks of meals within 6 months. I have two weeks to go. They’ll likely be in late May because my schedule for April is filling up very quickly. I don’t mind — again, I like the food. And, to be honest, I probably won’t cancel the service entirely. But I’m not sure when I’ll feel comfortable ordering food 10 days in advance.

A lot of folks criticize me for (or are in awe of) the number of “irons I keep in the fire.” Simply said, I have a lot of interests and when something really strikes my fancy, I dive in headfirst and do what I need to do to become an “expert.”

That’s how teaching myself how to use computers in the early 1990s paid off with a career as a computer how-to book author, speaker, and educator, freeing me, once and for all (at age 29), from the 9 to 5 grind of corporate America.

That’s how learning to fly helicopters and eventually jumping through the hoops required to get a charter (AKA Part 135) certificate got me a third career as a helicopter pilot, which started climbing to its peak in 2012, right around the time people stopped buying computer how-to books.

That’s how accumulating cabochons at rock shows led to making jewelry which led to getting good silversmith training and setting up my own fully-equipped studio and making/selling sterling silver jewelry at art shows. When I sold the helicopter and my two helicopter businesses, I really thought silversmithing would be my fourth career (and first retirement career) and I suppose I can still count it as that.

But I never expected my boating activities to lead to paying gigs on both coasts, bringing in retirement income just as silver prices skyrocketed and the economy led to people not spending much money on things they didn’t need. After a dismal winter art show season in Seattle and the Phoenix area, I’ve pretty much set my silversmithing activities aside to better explore this fifth career as a boat captain.

Getting into Boating

What started as me musing, back in 2012, whether it was possible to take a boat on a trip from the Intracoastal Waterway near my mom’s old house in St. Augustine all the way up to the Erie Canal, somehow ending in the Mississippi River and looping back to my starting point in Florida, eventually culminated with me doing that trip, the Great Loop, mostly solo in my own boat. I started in Chicago in October 2022 and ended there in August 2024. (I was still working as a pilot in the summer so I couldn’t do the summer part in 2023.)

I’d been boating on and off most of my life. Back in the summer of 2011, I bought a little jet boat. It wasn’t much and it wasn’t fast, but I eventually took it on outings in the Columbia River, Colorado River, and Lake Pleasant (Arizona).

My little jetboat was extremely well travelled. In the winter of 2017/18, I took it south with me to Arizona and beyond. This picture was shot at Capitol Reef National Park in October, when I drove through on my way to a side trip in Colorado.

My life got turned upside down in 2012 and I spent the next few years rebuilding it the way I wanted, with a new home and new priorities. I’ll just say this: life is good when you don’t have anyone holding you back from enjoying it. (‘Nuff said, eh, Jim?)

By 2021, I was thinking about that boat trip again. I found a boat captain doing the trip in his 2017 Ranger Tug R-27 who was looking for two crew members. I signed up for a portion of the trip: 8 weeks from Jersey City to Chicago. It was a mostly great experience, although I did clash with the other crew member and wound up leaving the boat after 5 weeks. We traveled up the Hudson River (where I’d boated with my family as a child) through the Erie Canal, and along Lake Erie and Lake Huron. It was great experience.

After that trip, I was approached by another boat captain, this time in a 1985 Aft Cabin Carver 35, who was doing the trip at his own pace and needed at least one crew member for at least two weeks. I signed up for 5 weeks, returning home just in time for my summer work. This time we were on the Atlantic Intracoastal Waterway between Charleston SC and New Bern NC. (John cruised at a much slower pace.) Again, it was great experience.

I was almost ready to buy my own boat, planning to do the Loop at my own pace starting in 2024. I had one more season of summer flying to do with my helicopter and then I planned to sell it. But weird stuff happens and I got an offer I couldn’t refuse for the helicopter in May 2022. I’m not an idiot; I sold it. I wound up leasing a helicopter — long and crazy story there — for my summer work.

But that big fat helicopter payment was eating at me, telling me to buy a boat that summer and start the trip sooner. After putting off looking for most of the summer, I finally succumbed and started a search. I found the right boat in August 2022, made an offer, had it accepted contingent on the survey, got it surveyed, and completed the sale just after Labor Day weekend.

What followed was a bit of training, a bunch of days cruising around Puget Sound, and a trip across the US to Chicago where the trucking company I’d hired launched it. My friend Janet joined me for the first 3 weeks on the Loop. My friend Alyse joined me for the second 3 weeks on the Loop. I did a bunch solo and also did about 60 days with my friend Jason and another 3 days with my friend Cheri. This was all over the course of 22 months, with time home to work when I had to.

Becoming a Captain

Along the way, I stopped in Oriental NC to attend a 7-day OUPV captain course. I got my Captain’s License from the USCG in October 2023. I put that license to work in May 2024 in the Baltimore area on two separate training gigs: 3 days for a brand new boater planning to do the Loop solo starting that summer (!!) in his 2015 Ranger Tug R-29 and 1 day with a couple who had stepped up from a pontoon boat to a really nice (and relatively new) Ranger Tug R-29.

If I had to identify one thing that has helped me stay financially secure doing interesting work throughout my life while retaining a healthy work/life balance, it’s my ability to recognize and take advantage of opportunities that come up as they come up. While many people — including too many I know — will make excuses to support why they can’t do something, I look at what I need to do to make things happen.

So while I was on a flotilla with five other boats (all larger than mine) going to Desolation Sound, and one of the owners of the charter company asked if I’d ever considered training people how to drive boats, I not only said yes but told him I had some experience doing it. (He had been impressed that I docked the boat solo at every stop; basically having the boat tied up before his wife hurried over to help.) And then I took the certification classes required to qualify as an instructor for their company. The following spring, I was teaching for them.

I have to admit that the highly structured classes they were teaching to give students American Boating certification was not what I enjoy doing. It was nice to make money while boating with strangers, some of whom were really great people, but I’m not a fan of teaching to the test, especially when the test covers information not in the course material or really not necessary to know. (I’d offer an example here, but I literally tossed out those old tests two days ago when cleaning out my instructor binder.)

I’d prefer to teach just one or two (a couple) people at a time, focusing on what they need to know to be safe boaters and get started building skills. And that’s what I got to do twice on my own boat last summer. I took a future Ranger Tug owner and his friend on an overnight trip in the San Juan Islands where they could see whether the boat would meet their needs; they stayed in an AirBnB on Orcas Island near Deer Harbor. And I took another future Ranger Tug owner who plans to do the Loop on a four day trip in the San Juan Islands, focusing on soloing skills — which is something the training organizations don’t want me to teach for them. I was tickled pink when he picked up a mooring ball by himself on the first try!

Later that summer, in August, I accompanied a new boater and his friend on his 2024 Antares 11, a twin outboard boat he planned to do the loop in. They had to move the boat from the Florida Panhandle to Jacksonville. We had two weeks to do it and needed almost every day because of engine issues along the way. It was brutally hot and humid in Florida, but the boat had air conditioning in the staterooms so sleeping was tolerable. It wasn’t my favorite Captain gig, but it’s always nice to get out on the water, especially when someone else is picking up the tab.

This Year Is Shaping Up

Fast forward to this year. Things are shaping up nicely. It’s just March and I’ve already done one gig, have two more under contract, and a third penciled in on my calendar. These are all gigs in a client’s boat or in my boat.

In two cases (for the same female client), I got the gig partly because I’m a woman. So that’s a welcome twist.

In the other two cases, the client wants to experience cruising in a Ranger Tug. So although my boat is in a charter program with San Juan Yachting out of Bellingham and used by others when I’m not on board, I have enough time for myself reserved so I can offer a few training cruises in it. I love teaching people how to drive Ranger Tugs, especially in my own boat. I know it so well and am still excited about it, even after 3 1/2 years of ownership. I want to make them excited, too.

And I’m also doing day trips and shorter overnight trips for clients. You can check my boat’s availability calendar here. And, of course, you can charter it for yourself if you meet the charter guest requirements at San Juan Yachting. Or you can charter it and request me as your on-board captain for custom training as you cruise.

The point is, I’m able to do work I love — boating and teaching people how to boat safely — and be paid for it. And I have to admit that the work pays a lot better for the amount of effort than my silversmithing “career,” even though it’s not as creative and personally rewarding. I guess the bottom line is this: doing work as a boat captain pays the bills; doing work as a silversmith/artist pays to do work as a silversmith/artist.

Winter 2026/27?

At this point, I’m leaning hard toward towing my boat back to the Great Loop in mid October or November, probably launching it in the St. Louis area. When I did the Loop, I sped through the southern half of the Inland Waterways in December and the trip was not as good as I think it should have been. I want to do it again and then cruise on to the west coast of Florida, perhaps with another stop in the Keys.

Heck, I towed it home from Chicago in August 2024. Why not tow it back to St. Louis in October 2026?

The boat would be available for passengers interested in learning more about the Great Loop or Ranger Tugs. Due to the size of the boat and stateroom limitations, I prefer to take solo cruisers, but I could probably make room for a couple. We’ll see.

What I do beyond that really depends on what plans I can make for Summer 2027. Right now, it’s too early to share my thoughts about that.

It’s All about Skills

I just want to end this post with a quick discussion of skills.

I have built multiple careers — some of them very successful — by learning skills and making those skills available to people willing to pay for them.

• I wrote about computer books for more than 20 years, earning quite a bit of money with my ability to write and to explain how to perform tasks on a computer.
• I took passengers for hire and did contract work in a helicopter, eventually earning a good living with my ability to fly the way a client needed me to fly.
• I’ve earned money with my silversmithing skills, although I haven’t had to depend on the income from that endeavor (see the previous two points).
• I’m earning money with my boating skills, teaching people how to safely maneuver their boat.

I have numerous other skills that serve me well:

• Computer skills for building websites, creating marketing materials, and making videos.
• Marketing skills for selling myself and my services.
• Accounting skills for taking care of my own finances.
• People skills that recognize the client is always right (even if he’s wrong), among other things.

I don’t learn skills because I plan to turn them into a career. I learn them because they interest me. But being able to monetize them makes it possible for me earn a living doing the things that interest me. In addition to the ones I’ve covered here, I’m also doing things with bookbinding, leather work, carpentry, photography, sewing, and more. I’m interested in a lot of things so I do a lot of things.

I guess the point I’m trying to make is this: building skills can never be a waste of time. You never know when that skill you’ve been honing because you really enjoy the work might be the skill that turns into a lifeboat if your life goes sideways one day.

As regular readers know, I go south every winter. I love my home but I don’t like winters here. It isn’t the cold as much as it’s the dreariness. So I go south, usually to Arizona and the desert southwest, although I did spend two winters on my boat on the Great Loop in mostly Florida a few years ago.

This year, I left on November 27, 2025 (Thanksgiving Day) and returned home on February 12, 2026. I have an excellent winter housesitter, which takes a lot of the worries out of leaving home for so long. He’s a skier and he likes the proximity of Mission Ridge and Steven’s Pass, two local ski resorts. He was not happy about the lack of real winter weather this year. But that lack of winter weather is what got me home early; I was supposed to come home at the end of February.

I thought I’d take a few minutes to write up a summary of my trip’s expenses. I think I managed to do it quite affordably this year. You be the judge.

Fuel

Fuel was my biggest expense. I drove roughly 4500 miles — Central Washington to the Phoenix area to Albuquerque to Las Cruces to Sierra Vista to the Phoenix area to Quartzsite to Yuma to Holtville to Salton Sea (Mecca) to Death Valley to Central Washington. I suppose I could plot the whole trip and get an exact mileage, but I think this is pretty close considering all the little side trips I made along the way.

I went through Death Valley on my way home. They were forecasting a Superbloom this spring and I think they’ll have it, but the best bloom I saw was at the south end of Badwater Road where it climbs up toward Shoshone. Simply said, I was about 2-4 weeks too early. So I only spent one night.

I was driving my pickup, which gets decent mileage, considering its size. But I had the truck camper on top, which is quite a load, and I was towing a utility trailer. I got about 12 miles per gallon.

I spent a total of $1,493 on diesel. This was taking advantage of Fred Meyer and Fry’s discounts everywhere possible and making sure I topped off in cheaper places — like in Yuma instead of Southern California and then Barstow instead of near Death Valley. The highest price I saw for diesel was $6.80/gallon in Death Valley, but the highest I think I paid was $4.79/gallon at Barstow.

Camping

I camped in my RV a total of 77 nights. They can be broken down as follows:

*The part hookup campgrounds and two of the no hookup campgrounds had RV dump facilities and drinking water available.

Honestly, I think the cost of full hookup campsites is outrageous these days. The one at Salton Sea was quite affordable at $36.25 including reservation fees. Not only did it include power, water, and sewer hookups, but there was a BBQ grill, picnic table, and a great view of the lake. But a gravel, featureless parking spot in Quartzsite for $70/night? They get you coming and going there.

I like to spend a night every week or so at a full or part hookup campground just to “refresh” my camper — empty the waste tanks, fill the water tank, make sure the battery is fully charged.

I should mention here that although I brought my little Honda 2KW generator along with me, I never even took it out. My solar panels brought in enough power during the day for the 66 days I camped without any power hookup. Meanwhile, in many campgrounds that had no hookup — I’m looking at you, Boulder Beach — I had to listen to someone else’s generator from 6 AM to 10 PM. I’ll take the empty desert any day.

You can bet I didn’t hear any generators — or anything else, for that matter — at this campsite west of Shoshone and just south of Death Valley National Park. No one came down that road the entire time I was there.

If you’re RVing and you need a generator or power connection for an overnight stay, you’re doing it wrong.

Other Expenses

I ate out once in a while but not very often. I bought groceries. Although I could work up total costs for my meals, I don’t bother because I have to eat no matter where I go. Buying groceries and cooking at the camper saves a lot of money — just like cooking at home is cheaper than eating out.

I also had to pay for laundry at laundromats. I estimate that cost about $100 total. I think I did laundry 6 times while I was on the road.

I also didn’t add up the cost of propane. My camper uses propane for the stove, water heater, and furnace. It also uses propane to run the refrigerator when I’m not plugged in at a campground. I only heat the water once a day — in the morning to do the dishes and wash up. The furnace is probably the biggest consumer; I’m not going to be cold at night. This was a pretty mild winter, though. In the past, while boondocking, a 5-gallon tank of propane usually lasted about a week. This year, I got at least 10 days out of each one. It cost about $15 to refill and I think I got 6 refills.

(Why on earth are people using Blue Rhino and swapping tanks? Don’t you realize it costs about $10 more than just refilling your own tank? Six times is $60.)

Last RV Trip South?

Although it was nice to stop in new places along the way — I spent more than a week in New Mexico this year — it was not nice to drag that cargo trailer. The only reason I had it with me was because I had at least two art shows to attend and I had all kinds of show equipment to bring with me. The first show was a bust — I barely broke even. The second was okay, but none of my better work sold. It seems that people are holding onto their money these days and are less likely to spend it on things they don’t need. I certainly didn’t need to do those two shows. (In fact, the way the economy is going — not to mention the price of silver, which I use in my work — I’ve decided to take a step back (again) from doing art shows.)

I’m thinking that there are more places south of where I live than the US desert southwest. Mexico is cheap and easy and I have friends that spend the winter there. But maybe it’s time to start planning that trip to Australia that I’ve put off for 13 years. I’m not getting any younger. Three months down under might do me good.

I’m writing this from my very comfortable campsite at the Holtville Hot Spring, a BLM managed long-term visitor area. This is probably my seventh or eighth visit and I’m planning on staying for about two weeks. That’s why I took the effort to find a campsite that clicked all my boxes — privacy, quiet, space for my pups to run off leash, close (but not too close) to the hot spring tubs — and position my equipment in a way that makes everything easy to access. This is also the third time on this winter trip that I’ve taken the camper off the truck, giving me a little bit more flexibility when it comes to running errands in town.

My campsite, which has two driveways, is tucked in among bare salt cedar trees just off the campground’s main road.

I’m traveling this year with my Lance slide-in truck camper and a small cargo trailer that houses my mobile jewelry studio. Due to crazy fluctuations in the price of silver, which is the main metal I use in jewelry making, I’m not very interested in working in my studio. Not yet, anyway. I’ll probably cover the consequences of silver’s price increases in another blog post.

I flew my drone not long after arriving and setting up. I’m trying to get more practice with my drone — a DJI Mini 4 Pro — so I can take advantage of its incredible feature set, which should make drone videography easy. Although this is a great place to fly, the scenery is not very inspiring. I’ll probably play around with the following features this weekend.

Here’s a look at the bigger picture of the area. A canal separates the BLM-managed desert from the start of a huge agricultural area. There are lots of empty campsites this year.

I made two trips into El Centro to pick up an Amazon package; the package wasn’t there the first day so I had to go back the next. I did some grocery shopping, filled one of my two propane tanks, mailed some earrings to one of my Gallery clients, had an excellent Chinese food lunch, and did a few other chores. On my return the next day, I buzzed right to my destination (a UPS Store), got my package, and came back all before 9 AM. El Centro is a 30-minute drive each way on I-8. I’ll likely run out there again on Tuesday morning, which is when they drain and clean the hot spring tubs.

Other than that, I’ve been very lazy. I make one or two visits to the hot spring tubs each day, encountering various people who are also camped here. A lot of those people are full-time RVers and many of them spend up to seven months here. The campground is remarkably empty this year and I realized that it’s because the Canadians haven’t come down. The weekend will likely bring day-trippers. Sunday is usually the worst, with four-wheelers on their way home from the Glammis dunes east of here stopping in with their kids, who really ruin the calmness of the place. I take my ebike from my campsite to the tubs — it’s a 0.6 mile ride each way.

The hot spring tubs are right at the I-8 freeway, although the exit to get here is about a mile down the road. It’s amazing how well I can tune out the sound of the vehicles. We’re only 6 miles from the Mexican border here, so those mountains in the photo are in Mexico.

I bought a pool thermometer at Walmart the other day and have read temperatures ranging from around 100°F to 108°F, depending on the tub. I like it around 102° to 104°F. I’ve already broken the thermometer, so I’ll buy another (and be more careful with it when I go into town on Tuesday, if I don’t go sooner.

I’m a bit sad about this year’s visit because I really think it’ll be my last. Once again, I’m finding myself in a seasonal rut and I need to shake out of it. That means doing new things in the winter. I’ve already decided that art shows in Arizona are a waste of time and money for me; much of my work is Navajo inspired and does well in Washington state, but in Arizona, I’m competing with Navajos and, simply said, they do better work than I can. But again, I’ll address my evolving jewelry making business in another post or maybe a video.

Last night I got a sudden urge to just break camp and go home in the morning. I can be home from here in two or three days, depending on the hurry I’m in. But this morning, when I woke up and looked forward to a hike along the canal with my pups, followed by a soak in a hot spring tub, I decided that another 10 days wouldn’t kill me. It’ll be around 80°F every day this week. And sunny. The nighttime lows here are about equal to the daytime highs at home. I’m going to enjoy it while I can.

If you want more info about the hot spring, check out the video I did back in 2022. Yeah, I’m reading a script and I look like shit because I was still in the middle of my long hair phase — seriously, what was I thinking? — but there’s some good footage and a description of the place. I like it here.

As I mentioned in my previous post, I got a request from one of my YouTube subscribers for more information about boondocking in an RV. This is a topic near and dear to me, as I spend a good portion of every winter camping for free on public land in Arizona and California. It’s a nice, inexpensive way to enjoy nature and solitude. Kind of like having your own mobile Walden Pond.

Boondocking Defined

Boondocking — at least the way I see it — is camping without any RV hookups or conveniences. Although this is usually done in parking lots (think Walmart) or on public land, you can be boondocking in a campground if that campground has no services. It basically means relying on your own equipment for power, water, sanitation (toilet), and food storage/prep. It usually refers to staying in a vehicle or RV, although I suppose you can do it with a tent, too. (I’ve already had enough tent camping in my life, so I won’t address that here.)

I’m about halfway through my three-month winter trip now, having boondocked in the following places:

• Pahranagat National Wildlife Refuge, south of Alamo, NV off route 93. This is technically a campground, but its free and has no hookups, although it does have pit toilets.
• Boulder Beach Campground, Lake Mead, NV. This is a campground and it charges a fee, but there are no hookups for RVs. There are bathrooms, however and centralized water spigots for topping off a tank and there’s a dump station, so I’m not sure if this really counts as boondocking.
• Constellation Park Campground, Wickenburg, AZ. Technically, this is a campground, but since it has absolutely no services except garbage pails, I may as well be boondocking out in the desert, which is what I actually prefer.
• Litchfield Park, AZ. I boondocked for four nights in a parking lot while I participated in an art show at the nearby resort.
• *You can get detailed information with photos about my New Mexico campsites in a recent blog post titled “New Mexico Explorations.”

  Isleta Resort and Casino*, Isleta Pueblo, NM. I shared an enormous parking lot with a few big rig trucks, a giant fifth wheel camper, and a few Sprinter vans.

• The Box*, Socorro, NM. This was a BLM trailhead parking lot with the filthiest pit toilet I had ever seen.
• Old Ladder Ranch Road*, south of Truth or Consequences, NM. This was a BLM dispersed campsite on the Rio Grande with a horrendous access road.
• City of Rocks State Park*, south of Silver City, NM. This was a state park campground with no facilities other than pit toilets although there were some electric/water sites in the park.
• Walmart parking lot*, Silver City, NM. Although lots of Walmart parking lots no longer allow overnight parking, this one did and was actually suggested by a ranger at Gila Cliff Dwellings.
• Dispersed Campsite* north of Lordsburg, NM. At least I think that’s where I camped. Nothing there except open range cattle and power lines.
• Cave Creek, AZ. I boondocked for four nights in a parking lot in town (with permission) while I participated in an art show in town.
• Seven Springs, north of Carefree, AZ. I tried the CCC campground but there wasn’t enough sun so I spent the next two nights at what may have been a campsite in a parking area. This was BLM land.
• Arizona Sonoran National Monument, between Gila Bend and Buckeye. I’m here now. It’s BLM land. There’s a campground called Margie’s Cove but the road was so gnarly and narrow that I stopped about 3 miles short of it and found a nice level spot right off the main road. There are two other campers who did the same thing, but didn’t get quite as far as I did. I’ve been here for four nights and will leave tomorrow.

My plans for the next few weeks include three nights in a full-hookup campground followed by two full weeks at a BLM long term campground at Holtville Hot Springs. After that, who knows?

Boondocking Equipment

To boondock with some level of comfort you need appropriate equipment. The equipment you have will determine the level of comfort and convenience you have.

I’m not going to cover the bare minimum because everyone’s idea of “minimum” is different. I personally would not hit the road with plans of boondocking with anything less than I have. Other folks — and I’ve met some of them — are perfectly happy sleeping in the back of their hatchback car, using public toilets, and eating fast food. That’s not me. If that’s you, you don’t need to read this blog post.

Instead, I’ll cover what I have and other versions of it that might appeal to you.

Camper

A camper is a vehicle or trailer designed with a living space and related equipment. It could be a van, motorhome, travel trailer, tent camper, or slide in truck camper like I’ve got. It basically has a bed, a bathroom (or toilet), a place for storing and preparing food, and a place to eat meals or do work, like a table with chairs or benches. It usually has the ability to store fresh and waste water.

Each type of camper has its own pros and cons. I’ve had a bunch of different types. Large campers like my old fifth wheel (36 feet long with 4 slide outs) are very comfortable, but a pain in the ass to park or travel with. I’d never get my old fifth wheel in where I am now and wouldn’t even try. Small campers are tight on space, forcing you to either live inside your box or spend a lot of time outdoors. They might also lack convenient amenities. What works for me might not be what you want so I can’t advise you. All I can say is that you should have a good idea of what you want and where you want to go before you buy something. A friend of mine who wanted a small pull trailer with a walk-around bed, bought the first one she found; oddly, it came with an AC powered refrigerator, forcing her to stay at campgrounds or run a generator when parked. Not smart.

My truck camper sits atop my pickup so it can go and be parked anywhere my truck can. Inside is a queen sized bed, a table with bench seats that seat three and converts into another bed, a bathroom with a toilet, sink, and shower, a three burner propane stove and oven, a two bin sink, a three-way (propane, AC, and DC) refrigerator and freezer, propane hot water tank, 40 gallons of fresh water storage, 30 gallons of blackwater storage, and 30 gallons of graywater storage. It has a microwave and an air conditioner that only work when the camper is plugged into power. I have lots of windows, two overhead vents with fans, and a skylight. There’s lots of onboard storage, including a slide-out pantry and a clothes closet. It’s very comfortable — and currently for sale. (I’d like to switch to a small motorhome.)

Here’s a shot of my rig this year, boondocking at the Box near Socorro, NM. I usually do not have that utility trailer with me. It limits where I can go, although it does provide me with nearly limitless storage options.

Off-the-Grid Power

If you’re going to boondock in comfort, you need some sort of off-the-grid power solution. That’s normally solar power, but some folks stubbornly (and stupidly, in my opinion) rely on noisy generators to keep their camper batteries charged.

But first you need to understand how you’ll use the power you’ve got.

Understanding Power Usage

When your camper is not plugged into power at a campground or in someone’s driveway, it’s using DC power from the batteries on board. If the batteries are not charged, they will eventually run out of power. You need to know what the capacity is and have a way to monitor remaining power. In my camper, my solar panel controller displays current voltage and that’s how I monitor it. You should have a setup that works for you and use it.

What uses power? The basics are the lights, which are likely all DC so they’re always available. Then there’s your vent fans, water pump, heater fan, and refrigerator thermostat. (I highly recommend buying a camper with a 2-way fridge. That’s AC and propane. DC refrigerators will wear down your batteries at an alarming rate.) If you have an inverter that enables you to plug in AC devices, that has vampire power when turned on and uses even more power if something is plugged in and drawing power.

To boondock in comfort without having to listen to a generator the whole time you’re parked, you need to know how to monitor and conserve power. I could write an entire blog post about that. The bottom line is this: know what draws power and how much it draws. Conserve power whenever possible.

Solar Panels

All of my recent campers have had solar panels professionally mounted on the roof and wired into a solar controller that charges the onboard batteries. While some people believe that a solar panel is useless unless it’s pointed directly at the sun — requiring manual repositioning or fancy solar tracking — they are wrong. My two roof-mounted solar panels (100 watts each) will fully charge my camper’s two batteries on a typical Arizona winter day. That’s full sun in the southern sky. Because my panels are mounted on a slightly slanted surface, they get more sun if I point my rig to the south, but I don’t bother doing that. I don’t need to if I’m parked in a spot with sun all day long. The panels get enough sun on them to work.

Here’s a drone photo of the top of my camper. You can see the two solar panels permanently mounted on either side of the skylight. They are wired directly into a solar controller that is wired, in turn, into my batteries.

The benefit of mounted solar panels? You don’t have to do a damn thing to get them to work. No pulling them out, plugging them in, moving them around, worrying about theft. They’re just up there working during daylight hours.

I also have a portable solar solar panel (160 watts) I bought years ago. I had my camper wired with a two prong plug that goes from that solar panel’s controller right into my batteries. So if it’s not very sunny or I’m using lots of battery power, I can charge my batteries from a total of 360 watts. But these days, I’m traveling with a utility trailer that has an inverter on board and its own two batteries. I’m using the portable panel to keep that battery charged and using that battery to keep a portable battery pack charged. (More on that in a moment.)

I bought this folding portable solar panel at least 8 years ago; the same capacity is about one quarter of the price now. I can plug it in to provide more power to my camper or the batteries in that cargo trailer.

As we all know, solar panels only make power during daylight hours. And once a battery is full, it’s full. For this reason, it’s a good idea to use power hog conveniences early in the day. I do my dishes in the morning, right after breakfast, and do not do them after dinner. This way, I’m not running a pump late in the afternoon or at night when the batteries can’t get charged back up. The other day I wasn’t thinking and took a nice hot shower late in the afternoon. The result: I started my nighttime hours with 1/4 discharged batteries instead of full ones. Fortunately, I didn’t need much heat overnight so it was all okay, but I won’t make that mistake again.

Generators

Onboard generators make charging batteries and running appliances like microwaves more convenient. Flick a switch, the generator turns on, and you can run just about anything you like. But do you really want to listen to that noise? I can assure you that the folks quietly camping nearby don’t.

And yes, you can have a portable generator. I travel with a Honda 2KW generator I bought about 25 years ago. I have not used it yet on this trip. However if the weather turned cold and cloudy, I’d likely have to run it a few hours a day while boondocking. Cloudy means less solar power. Cold means I need to run more heat to stay comfortable. I don’t want to go to bed with my batteries at half capacity. So when I have to, I’ll pull out that generator, fire it up, and plug in. But it’s my personal goal to not have to do that. I don’t want to hear my generator any more than I want to hear someone else’s.

Portable Battery Power Packs

Lots of companies make portable battery packs, often with built-in inverters and USB ports for powering devices. Late last year, DJI (the drone maker) had its battery packs on sale for 50% off. I bought a DJI Power 500 unit for $250. (If you click the link, you might still be able to buy one for 40% off; I suspect they are being discontinued. I really like mine.) It has 2 USB-C, 2 USB-A, and 2 AC outlets. It tells me exactly how much power is left when it’s turned on so I never run it all the way down. I bought it because it had the option of charging off a 12v car power source; when I’m in transit, I charge it with my truck.

Although I’m using it now to keep the battery in my laptop topped off as I type, I mostly use it to run my StarLink Mini, which is a bit of a power hog and a definite luxury. Having something like this is handy, especially if you’re driving a lot between overnight campsites (so you can charge it) and you’re already using enough camper power when parked.

You might also want a few phone charging battery packs handy. I’ve got five 10,000 mAmp packs that I keep charged in case of emergency. I usually charge them in my truck while underway, although I can easily charge them off my camper batteries early in the day on a sunny day.

Water

Your camper should store a reasonable amount of fresh water for its size. I’m pretty sure mine holds 40 gallons. I can easily make that last more than a week without seriously cutting back on usage.

When I know I’m going to spent more than a week boondocking between RV refreshes (more on that later) I bring water jugs. I have four 6-gallon jugs, although I only brought two of them with me this year. I fill them when I refresh the camper and carry them in my truck. I have a battery operated fuel transfer pump I use to pump water out of the heavy jugs into my water port.

I should mention that I have three “flavors” of water on board.

• Tank water is the water I store and carry in my onboard water tank and refill from the jugs. This is water I wash things with.
• Filtered water is water in reused one-gallon plastic water jugs that I fill from a water source through a water filter on my own hose. This is water I cook with.
• Spring water is water I buy in one-gallon plastic water jugs. This is water I drink and make ice cubes with.

I know this sounds a little extreme, but who the hell knows what’s in the 18-year-old water tank in my camper? I definitely do not want that going into my body. As for the drinking water, if I don’t like the way water tastes, I won’t drink it. I prefer spring water, although I will drink Brita-filtered tap water at home.

Connectivity

I prefer camping in remote places and the big problem with that is Internet connectivity. While I know some folks claim they like that, I don’t. I like the option of being connected wherever I am. So when I go places where cell service is not an option, I set up my StarLink Mini.

And yes, I know Elon Musk is a rich, crazy asshole who is filling the sky with satellites that will eventually drop down to earth, likely killing someone. I hate him just as much as most democracy-loving, greedy billionaire-hating folks do, if not more. But I also know that if I’m in a remote place and my truck doesn’t start or I’m hurt in a fall or from an animal encounter, I want a way to communicate with the outside world. StarLink is currently the only viable affordable solution.

(Plus, I really bought it for my boat so more people would want to charter it and I’d make more money on charters. So there.)

In general, however, my cell phone does provide sufficient coverage. This is a good thing because StarLink is a power hog and I do not want to sacrifice camper battery power to use it — which is why I bought the DJI portable battery solution discussed above.

The RV Refresh

I spit my time between boondocking and staying at campgrounds with hookups primarily so I can do what I call an “RV Refresh.” For example, when I came back into Arizona from New Mexico and prepped to boondock in Cave Creek and beyond, I booked one night at the Cave Creek Regional Park campground with a power and water hookup. Afterwards, I spent four nights boondocking in a parking lot and another three nights boondocking at Seven Springs. Then back to one night at the Regional Park for a refresh.

On a refresh, I do the following:

• Plug into power. This tops off my batteries (in case conditions haven’t been good enough for solar power) and switches my refrigerator to AC power to save propane. It also enables me to run a tabletop electric heater, which is a bit quieter than my propane/dc fan heater and also saves propane. And I can use the power to charge my ebike and any other item I have that needs a lot of power to charge up.
• Connect to water or top off my water tank just before departure. I don’t always connect directly to city water supplies, although doing so gives my water pump a rest. But I always completely top off my fresh water tank with filtered water coming through my hose. I’ll also fill any water jugs — big or small — that are empty and stow them for future use.
• Dump black and gray water tanks. If the site has a full hookup, I do it just before I leave. If the site has a dump station, I do it on my way out of the campground. If a threaded hose is available at the pumpout station, I’ll use it with the SaniFlush system on my camper to rinse out the black water tank. I also add chemical and a half gallon of water to my blackwater tank so it can swish around and further clean the tank as I get on my way.

Ideally, I like to do this after every 5 to 10 days of boondocking, but I can go as long as 14 days if I need to.

I don’t like full hookup campgrounds, mostly because they’re like parking lots. Here I am parked at one in Albuquerque, where I had some business in December. The main benefit of staying here was that I was able to do a complete RV refresh (and laundry) before I moved on.

Finding Places to Boondock

This is where a lot of people get hung up when they want to boondock. They either don’t know where to go, think they are limited to Walmart parking lots, or are afraid to get into the relatively remote areas where the best boondocking can be found.

I have no solid answer for you.

One thing you should know is that you can camp just about anywhere on BLM (Bureau of Land Management), NFS (National Forest Service), or some State land. For example, Arizona State Trust land allows camping but you need an annual permit. I think it costs $30 and you can buy it online. Keep an eye out for “No Camping” or “No Overnight Parking” signs and stay out of wilderness areas with motorized vehicles. (There’s actually a wilderness area just south of the road I’m parked along; I’m on the north side.) I have driven up into the mountains near Mount Rainier (but not inside the National Park) and found campsites right off a forest road that have been perfectly fine (and legal) for boondocking. BLM, especially in Arizona, Utah, Nevada, and Southern California, has thousands of acres to camp on.

Last July I drove up a national forest road in Washington and found a turnoff with a fire ring. I spent the night in the total silence of the forest.

In the winter of 2020/21, I found a spot along the Colorado River Backwaters about 7 miles south of I-10 where I was able to camp for 2 1/2 months without being bothered by anyone. I had a mile of backwater channels to paddle my kayak, which I actually left in the water at my campsite. I set up my jewelry studio and took my camper off my truck. The only problem with all of this is that you’re supposed to be limited to 2 weeks in any one spot. But I really think that rangers who come by (admittedly seldom) will turn a blind eye to a camper with decent equipment who keeps a neat campsite and doesn’t cause trouble. I tick of all three of those boxes.

Some of the BLM long term areas in southern Arizona and California do require that campers pay a fee. That’s the deal at my next boondocking destination, the Holtville Hot Springs. If I camp within one mile of the springs, I have to pay a nominal fee and am limited to two weeks. But if I camp just beyond that — which I’ve done for short stays — it’s free.

There are apps that help you find places to boondock. Although most were free — in the true spirit of boondocking — everyone wants money these days and now they’re not opposed to getting you to subscribe to an app that pulls data from free sources. I have an app called Ultimate CG that lists all the free and commercial camping options, with filters to help you weed out the ones you won’t want. To my knowledge, the app is no longer available but the same guy makes a bunch of apps, each of which focus on a specific type of camping option. It still works, although it’s not exactly reliable.

One neat app I recently found is from Garmin. It’s called Tread and although it’s free, it does require you to set up a free Garmin account. (I already have one for my boat electronics.) What’s neat about it is that if you display the correct layers and/or tap on the map it’ll tell you who owns the land. Here’s what it looks like for where I am now; it clearly shows boundaries for the BLM land and wilderness area, as well as the location of the BLM campground.

One way to find good spots is to talk to other boondockers. A friend on Mastodon, my social media of choice these days, recommended a number of spots — including the one I almost got to here. Most of them were a bit too remote or at higher elevations than I was looking for in a winter site, but it’s good to know they’re out there. And although I was supposed to go another three miles on this road to an actual designated campground, there’s nothing stopping me from pulling over in a suitable spot to camp along the way. Yes, the campground would probably be nicer, but you don’t need a campground on BLM or National Forest Land to camp. Just don’t damage trails and vegetation by driving over them with your rig and don’t dump gray or blackwater.

Be Considerate

One more thing I want to mention about boondocking.

Don’t park right next to or even near another boondocker, especially when you’re out in a remote area. Chances are, they’ve come all this way to camp in privacy, without other people nearby. They don’t want to see or hear you and your pets or kids or generator. They found their spot; keep driving to find yours.

This is common courtesy. There’s a lot of land out there; there’s no reason to cram yourself in near other folks trying to enjoy it on their own.

Enough?

That’s all I’ve got for now. If you think I forgot something, let me know in the comments. If there’s enough to add, I’ll do a Part II for this post.

I just want to finish by saying that boondocking is the closest you can get to real camping in an RV. Taking your luxury motorhome to a KOA and plugging in between two other rigs is not camping. And with the prices some of these places charge these days, you might be better off driving something more fuel efficient and staying in motels.

Boondocking gives you a chance to be out in nature in a place where you can enjoy your surroundings. If you haven’t tried it, what are you waiting for? Prep your rig and get out there!

This morning, I got a notification that a YouTube channel subscriber had contributed $25 to my publishing efforts via Buy Me a Coffee. His accompanying message to me told me a bunch of things that he liked and wanted to see.

I Need Motivation

Getting positive feedback — yes, with money, although that didn’t really matter as much — reminded me that I usually don’t just sit on my ass and watch the clock hands spin my life away. I’m usually working on creative projects like my blog or YouTube channel content or the book I started writing about my Great Loop adventure. Or making jewelry in my studio (or mobile studio).

But lately I’ve been feeling kind of meh — I think world events and the fall of the United States’ democracy have something to do with that but won’t discuss it here — and have been spending entirely too much time on social media (Mastodon), doing word and number puzzles (even I think 8 sudokus a day is extreme), and watching YouTube videos. It was only over the past two days that I decided to practice using my drone and exploring livestreaming from it that I’ve been making better use of my time.

And that’s what prompted my latest supporter, who watched the livestream, to contribute and speak up. So that’s all good.

It also got me motivated to check out new comments on my personal YouTube channel and respond to them. And to write a post letting subscribers know I was still alive and what my plans were for the next few months. Here’s that post.

The Post

I just caught up with a bunch of comments on this channel and thought it was time for an update.

It’s winter and I’ve left my home in the very capable hands of my regular winter housesitter so I can return to Arizona, California, and sunny warm weather. I’m in my RV pulling a small utility trailer that contains my jewelry studio and the equipment I need to appear at art shows. I’ve done two art shows in Arizona; one was a bomb and the other was good (but not great). Right now I’m boondocking in my rig on BLM land between Buckeye and Gila Bend, AZ. From here I’ll go to Quartzite, the Holtville Hot Springs, Death Valley, and then, depending on the weather, home.

Golden hour drone photo of my campsite on BLM land between Gila Bend and Buckeye.

I’ll spend today working on a blog post (and maybe video) about my boondocking setup and philosophy, which is remarkably similar to my boat anchoring out setup and philosophy. With luck, I’ll finish and publish later today or tomorrow morning. I’d like to mention here that the topic was requested by a channel subscriber who watched my drone livestream yesterday and was kind enough to donate to the channel using the Buy Me a Coffee links on some videos and blog posts.

Meanwhile, my boat is languishing on its trailer in my garage. I’ll get it in the water in Bellingham WA in April, have all its scheduled maintenance done before month-end, and then take it on a two-week shakedown cruise in the San Juan Islands and Inside Passage. I’ve already got one training client booked to spend three days on board with me. After that cruise, it gets a final preparation for the charter season and will then be available for charter through San Juan Yachting. It’s already booked for several weeks. I’ve scheduled a total of five weeks for myself during the season, including two weeks in September so I can attend the Ranger Rendezvous at Roche Harbor. I’ll be doing training on my boat during my charter time and already have a client scheduled for two days in July. I’m also planning on making a lot of boating videos over the summer and am open to your suggestions on topics to cover.

So yeah: I’m keeping busy and have plans for the future.

I also want to take this opportunity to remind everyone that this channel is 100% human created. I don’t use AI for anything. I urge you to support human creators on YouTube. We work hard for very little recognition. It’s absolutely heartbreaking to see AI slop getting thousands of views and drowning out our voices.

If you have any questions or comments regarding this channel and the directions I plan to take it, please let me know. I’m always interested in feedback.

So Now, Back to Work

I’ve pulled out my daily planner and jotted down the things I want to accomplish today. That’ll help keep me focused. It’s a dreary day for the Arizona desert, with high clouds filtering the normally strong sunlight. I don’t think it’ll get very warm. In fact, I just put on a flannel shirt and made myself a hot cocoa to help warm up. Perfect day to stay indoors and write.

So I’ll write a post about my boondocking and anchoring setups and include some photos to illustrated what I’m talking about. And maybe I’ll even get motivated enough to capture some video or assemble some photographs to turn them into a vlog post for YouTube. Meanwhile, I’ll stay off social media and avoid distractions. I’ll get something worthwhile done.

Your comments are always appreciated. Use the form for this post. I usually respond within 24 hours.

I’ve been going south for the winter ever since I moved to Washington State in 2013. (Before that, when I lived in Arizona, I went north for the summer starting in 2008.) I usually spend most of my time in Arizona, although there’s a hot spring in California that I like. And, of course, in the winters of 2022/23 and 2023/24, I was on my boat in the southeastern US, spending an awful lot of time in Florida. (You can learn more about that in the My Great Loop Adventure blog where I’ve written quite a bit about that trip.)

The Backstory for My Trip to New Mexico

Last year, I came dangerously close to buying a 5-acre piece of land southeast of Tucson, AZ. It was partially developed with a driveway, a building pad, and a well and was close to electricity for an easy hookup. And views! Although they weren’t as good as my current views, I certainly could have lived with them.

You see, I’m looking for a year-round home. I love where I live, but I absolutely abhor it in December, January, and February. It’s not the cold — after all, the temperature isn’t that bad. And it’s not the snow, which is actually kind of pretty. It’s the short daylight hours and the dreariness of the area’s winter inversions, which put my home above, inside, or just below the clouds four days out of seven. I definitely get SAD in the winter and the few times I’ve tried to stick around or delay my departure for points south have been maddening. No amount of Vitamin D or daylight light bulbs in my home can help.

Anyway, I got home in late January of 2025, right around the time the orange idiot in the White House started his reign of tariffs. The stock market, which was where just about all of my retirement money resided, was nose-diving. The cost of building materials, which I’d need to build a home, was skyrocketing — you know a lot of our lumber comes from Canada, right? The future looked very uncertain. If I bought a piece of land in Arizona, would I be able to build a home on it without tapping into my retirement investments? And then there were the crazy political antics in red states like Arizona. Did I really want to be part of that?

So I told the Realtor that I’d changed my mind due to economic uncertainty.

And I spent a very pleasant spring, summer, and autumn at home and on my boat cruising the San Juan Islands.

Meanwhile, the stock market had recovered and grown even, but I’d also moved a bunch of my investments into other securities, including FDIC-insured accounts. While TACO Don’s tariffs aren’t causing as much uncertainly these days, the crazy feeding of the AI bubble (and don’t fool yourself — it is a bubble and it’ll burst soon) has got me convinced that my investment values will fall before they rise much more. I have become more fiscally conservative since I have no idea what my portfolio will be worth a year from now and I have absolutely no desire to become a Walmart greeter after signing up for Medicare next year.

This Year’s Trip South

Of course, I planned to go south again this winter. I made arrangements with my house-sitter, who actually likes living in my house during the months I hate being there. (He’s a skier and there’s a ski resort in nearby Wenatchee, although he’s been pretty disappointed so far this year with the lack of snow.) On Thanksgiving, I rolled out on the long drive. By the first week of December, I was selling my work at the first of two definite (and a third possible) art shows and camping out in, of all places, the town where I used to live, Wickenburg, AZ.

I sent my drone up in Constellation Park to get a few shots of my campsite there. I spent 2 days on arriving in Wickenburg and then another 9 days after the art show. I was able to set up my jewelry studio and make a bunch of new jewelry=, including my first three turquoise rings.

But I also had plans to go to New Mexico.

You see, I buy most of my silversmithing supplies from a company called Rio Grande, which is based in Albuquerque, NM. One day, when I logged in to shop, I saw that they were offering tours of their facility. I love a behind-the-scenes look at anything, so I signed up. The date was December 18. I booked two nights in a nearby RV park and, on December 17, I rolled out of Wickenburg to start the nearly 500-mile drive to Albuquerque, treating myself for lunch at the Turquoise Room at La Posada in Winslow along the way. I rolled into my Albuquerque RV spot just before sunset the day before the tour.

I’d already decided to make my trip to Albuquerque the first stop of an exploration of New Mexico’s southwestern towns and cities. If I didn’t like the politics in Arizona, maybe I’d like New Mexico better. And maybe there was a town I’d actually like to move to, one that wasn’t so dreary in the winter. The only way to find out was to take a look and see.

And that’s how I wound up spending a week and a half exploring southwestern New Mexico.

Albuquerque, December 17-19

I started in Albuquerque. I wound up taking my bike the 1.6 miles to Rio Grande, where I was the only person on the tour. I walked around the facility with Sean, who showed me various parts of their manufacturing, receiving, and shipping departments. The one department that I wanted to see — the place where they cut metals to order — was not part of the tour because of security concerns. I was disappointed, but understand. This is the part of their facility that handles large quantities of precious metals, including gold, silver, and platinum. Although I was mostly interested in seeing the machines they used to measure, cut, and weigh the metals, it also would have been cool to be in a room with materials worth that much. Have you seen the prices of gold and silver lately? They’re outrageous.

A bar at the top of Rio Grande’s website pages shows the current market prices of four precious metals. These are the prices as of December 31, 2025. When I started silversmithing back around 2020, silver was under $30/ounce.

After the tour, I took my bike down to Old Town Albuquerque. (The route had me going through a few questionable neighborhoods, but I can ride pretty fast if I need to.) That’s where there was a square surrounded by a lot of touristy shops. I looked at a lot of authentic Native American jewelry, especially in a shop called Warpath Traders, that had dozens of squashblossom necklaces.

I did what I call an “RV refresh” before leaving the campground the next day. That includes dumping both waste tanks, rinsing the blackwater tank, and filling the water tank. I’d been plugged in for two days so my batteries were already fully charged. I also filled two 6-gallon water jugs since I wasn’t sure how long it would be before I stayed someplace with water again. My camper holds 30 gallons (I think) and I can make that last a week.

On the way out of town, I stopped at the Albuquerque Museum, which had a number of interesting exhibits. In addition to the local interest exhibits you’d expect, they also had an exhibit of German modern and political art from 1910 to 1945. Some of it was very interesting, including artist reactions against Hitler and the Nazis.

After some soup in the cafe, I left town, heading south.

Isleta Resort and Casino, December 19-20

I made reservations for a facial at the Isleta Resort and Casino, a casino complex that’s part of the Isleta Pueblo. The reservations were for Saturday morning at 10:30, but I figured I’d boondock overnight in the Casino’s truck and RV parking lot. (If you’re not familiar with the term, boondocking means parking an RV somewhere other than in a campsite or other place specifically intended for RV parking or camping. It’s usually free. My rig is set up for boondocking so I do as much as I can. Two or three nights of free camping pays for a facial.)

I got there a little earlier than I expected, but decided to just relax and take it easy. Although I wasn’t sure I was allowed to park there overnight, by nightfall I realized it was okay since I was joined by several trucks and RVs, all of which spent the night. The lot was huge and I was on one end of it so I had plenty of privacy and enough quiet.

I was one of a handful of boondockers at the casino that night.

In the morning, I got a shower bag together and went up to the resort around 9 AM. I took a little look around the hotel area and was pleased to see that there was no sign of gaming anywhere outside the casino. In fact, signs approaching the casino warned that people under 21 were not allowed.

I checked in at the spa, got the usual tour, was assigned a locker, and was shown where to wait at 10:20 for my treatment appointment. I wasted no time changing into my bathing suit — nudity is not allowed — rinsing off in a shower, and hitting the indoor jacuzzi. I was the only one there. After about 20 minutes soaking, I grabbed a towel and went outside to try the outdoor hot tub, which was considerably larger and equallly deserted. After 20 minutes there, it was back to the first tub for a while, then a good hot shower before putting on my spa robe and waiting for my facial.

The jacuzzi room on the ladies side of the spa. There was a steam room off to one side, but I did not use it. I can’t stand high humidity.

The facial was a full hour, but that doesn’t mean it was good. On a scale of 1 to 5, I’d give it a 3. (Oddly, the last facial I had was about a 2.5; I haven’t had a really good facial since a spa day at the Arizona Biltmore years ago.) She spent a lot of time putting creams on my face, massaging my hands and arms, and getting a shit-ton of cream in my hair when she massaged my scalp. There was no exfoliation or pore checking. And those warm hand and foot mitts and booties? Definitely not part of the program. (Maybe I should give it a 2.)

Afterwards, I got back on the road again, heading south along the I-25 corridor.

(Understand that I went south instead of north because although I do like Santa Fe and Taos and that whole area, it would not be suitable for a year-round home. Too high in elevation means too cold. So I was checking the southwest part of the state where the elevation got lower.)

I went through a handful of towns along the way and wasn’t impressed by any of them. I’d made an appointment at the Walgreens in Los Lunas for a pneumonia vaccine, but I arrived before their lunch break and they refused to give me a shot until afterward. I killed some time in the local Albertson’s, buying some groceries. When I finished stowing them in the camper, I still had an hour to wait. I didn’t want to wait. So I cancelled the appointment and continued on my way.

The Box, Socorro, December 20-22

I drove through the town of Socorro in late afternoon. There was a BLM campsite at a place called The Box about 8 miles away. I covered the distance quickly on State Route 60 — the same 60 that goes through Wickenburg, I think — and turned off pavement. About a half mile down the road was a parking area with a toilet at the mouth of a narrow canyon. I was the only one there, which seemed odd on a Saturday with beautiful weather right before Christmas. I maneuvered my rig to get a nice view of the canyon out my back window and parked for the night.

A view of my camper at the mouth of the Box, shot from a bit up the trail in golden hour light.

It was a nice, quiet night. No one came into the parking area, although a few vehicles did pass by on that gravel road, which wound up into the hills. I woke in the middle of the night and took a look outside; there were billions of stars in the sky.

In the morning, after my chores — mostly coffee and puzzles, breakfast, feeding dogs, and doing dishes — I put on my hiking shoes and set out with my pups on a trail that climbed one of the nearby hills. I wasn’t planning on going far, but every time I’d get to where I wanted to go, I’d see another feature a bit farther away and continue on. I wound up making a 2.8 mile out and back hike to the top of a small peak with great views. (Clicking this link will show you my path and photos.) At the top of the peak, I met up with two mountain bikers. We chatted and it turns out that one of them had built the trail I’d hiked on.

Back at the camper, I had lunch and relaxed for most of the afternoon. But around 3 PM, I decided to try moving the camper up into the hills. I wasn’t happy about the way the morning sun didn’t hit my solar panels until almost 9 AM where I was. So I moved it. I wound up somewhere other than I’d hoped to be, but it was a nice enough site with views down into the valley. In all honesty, I wasn’t worth moving and I should have stayed where I was.

The Very Large Array, December 22

Meanwhile, I’d been chatting with some friends on Mastodon — I had to use StarLink at both sites to connect to the Internet — and someone had suggested visiting the Very Large Array, which was about 35 miles west on route 60. Seemed like a good idea to me. So that’s where I headed on Monday morning, as soon as I was done with my chores.

It was an easy drive through high desert terrain. I started seeing the enormous dishes when I was still miles away. I can’t remember the exact numbers, but I think there are 28 dishes arranged in a Y-shaped formation. Each arm of the Y is up to 13 miles long.

I arrived at the visitor center at 9 AM, paid my $10 fee, put my phone in Airplane mode as requested, and watched the orientation video, which is also available on YouTube (recommended). Then I did the self-guided walking tour that takes you (eventually) up to the base of one of the telescopes. To my surprise, the entire array repositioned while I was standing beneath it. It happens slowly but is definitely noticeable. (And no, this wasn’t normal tracking. They were all pointed one way and then they were all pointed in an entirely different direction.)

I bought a mug and a few cards and a denim shirt. I wanted to support the facility, which is funded, in part by the federal government (don’t tell Trump). Then I left, back-tracking down to Socorro. I stopped along the way to get a propane bottled filled.

Truth or Consequences, Old Ladder Ranch Road, December 22-23

I continued south along the I-25 corridor, trying my hardest to stay off I-25. Route 1 took me south through “towns” that weren’t much more than names on a map. I was in the Rio Grande valley and there was a lot of agriculture. I saw picked cotton fields and alfalfa and nut trees. Nothing was worth stopping at. Then I was dumped onto I-25 — there was no other way south in this area — and took that to Truth or Consequences.

I was not impressed. The town was pretty much dead on that Monday afternoon. There were a few hot springs along the river, including one with a campground, and I drove past. But the campground looked impossible to get into and the whole area was crowded with people. I don’t like crowds. I couldn’t even find a restaurant that looked open. So after driving around town twice, I continued south.

There was a BLM site on one of my apps called Old Ladder Ranch Road just past TorC. I followed the direction to get to that. Big mistake. The road was in deplorable condition, with giant dried mud holes that really required proper tire placement to negotiate. (I know a lot of people with capable rigs who wouldn’t even try it.) But eventually I got to a nice campsite right on the Rio Grande River. I backed in and parked for the night.

My campsite was right on the Rio Grande, which wasn’t much more than a stream.

It was a nice site because it was quiet, private, and right on the river, which wasn’t much more than a stream. (I know I could have walked across it.) I let my dogs run around — supervised, of course. I wasn’t fooling myself. There would be predators in the area. I got confirmation of that early the next morning when it sounded like a pack of coyotes howling and yipping right across the river.

Leaving in the morning was a lot easier. There was a more direct route back to pavement and that road was in much better condition. So after my chores, we headed out. It was probably around 9 AM. Some guy had shown up that morning and built a bonfire on the riverbank a bit farther downstream from my site for reasons I can’t fathom.

Leasburg Dam State Park, December 23-26

Although I enjoy boondocking, especially in a quiet place with great weather — and we certainly were having great weather, with temperatures 15-20°F higher than normal — I decided I wanted an easy Christmas. So in the morning, before leaving, I booked three nights at the Leasburg Dam State Park Campground with a power and water connection.

I managed to stay off the freeway all day, driving instead on route 187 south. We passed through more towns that were just map names with post offices. The terrain was mostly desert, but occasionally there would be some agriculture. I could see Caballo Reservoir from the road; it was like any other desert lake I’d seen.

We eventually got to Hatch, which is famous for its chiles. Again, I was disappointed. Although it looked a bit nicer than Truth or Consequences and seemed to have a few funky shops that may or may not have been open that Tuesday, there wasn’t much going on. I did stop at the local grocery store, which was a lot nicer inside than it looked from the outside, to buy some tissues — my runny nose was back. And I stopped at the local Ace hardware store for some penetrating oil to work out the rust on my StarLink mount when I got a chance. Then onward, now on route 185. I think I arrived at the campground at around 2 PM.

My expectations were low. They are always low for campgrounds. The one in Albuquerque had been a parking lot with gravel islands between spots. But this campground had me pleasantly surprised. Not only did I have a pull-through spot with a mostly level concrete pad, but there was a picnic table, fire pit, and ramada (shade structure). The place was spotlessly clean — it had even been raked before my arrival. And the sites were spread apart so I even had a certain amount of privacy!

By the second day, I wished I’d booked four nights.

I had a relaxing stay. I took care of some financial stuff that needed to be done before year-end. I got into the mobile studio for a few hours on Wednesday and Thursday (Christmas) and made two new earring styles. (These days, earrings seem to sell the best at art shows. I think people are being very careful with their money.) I re-packed some of my studio equipment in new bins to replace the ones that had broken on my way to Albuquerque. I soaked the metal parts of the StarLink mount in penetrating oil and used a brass brush to try to remove some of the rust. (No joy.) I fully charged the batteries inside my cargo trailer; I use them with an inverter to run studio equipment like my flex shaft and tumbler.

Here’s a shot of my mobile jewelry studio’s workbench on Christmas day when I was just finishing up some work on some new earrings. It might look like a mess, but it contains about 80% of my equipment and materials and I can make just about anything in there that I can make in my home studio. Everything gets stowed when I get under way.

On Christmas Day, I took my pups for a hike down to the river and back — about 1.6 miles total — that gave us a chance to see the empty diversion canal, dam, and original dam keeper residence. There were only 4 other people on the trail. For my early dinner, I grilled up a gorgeous tenderloin and sweet potatoes and had them with a salad and bottle of wine.

Before the end of the day, I packed up and secured everything I’d taken out in my jewelry studio to work. I put my bicycle in the trailer and secured it. I was hoping for an early departure the next day and knew that the more I got done that day, the less I’d have to do in the morning.

In the morning, I decided to take advantage of the shower available at the campground. I’m not sure if that was a good idea. My camper does have a shower and it isn’t bad. In fact, I think it might be better than the one in the campground, which required me to push a button every 10 seconds — and no, I’m not exaggerating here — to keep the water running. The only good thing about the shower was that the water was hot. That’s especially good because the temperature could not be adjusted.

Once I’d recovered from that little ordeal, I finished packing up my rig and topped off the water tank. It took more water than I expected. (The water gauge sensor in my camper is broken so the amount of water left is always a mystery.) Then, after a walk-around, I climbed into the truck with my pups and headed out.

We stopped at the dump station along the way. I dumped both waste tanks and rinsed the blackwater tank. I added water and chemicals to the blackwater tank. I must be doing something right because my toilet and blackwater system never stinks. We headed out, southbound.

Las Cruces, Deming, City of Rocks, December 26-28

I wanted to stop at a bookstore in Las Cruces before going into town to check it out. It wasn’t far — maybe 20 miles? The Maps app offered two ways to get there. I picked the way that would keep me off the freeway and I’m really glad I did. Along the way I passed through an area of nut orchards and got a chance to see them harvesting nuts — pecans? pistachios? — by shaking the trees. It was fascinating. I wanted to stop and watch and ask questions. But I also didn’t want to be a nuisance, so I kept driving.

Barnes and Noble was at a dead mall. You know the kind — at least 25% of the stores are empty. I got there early and the store was open, although the only folks in the mall were mall walkers. Everything in the store was at least 25% off. Everything. I bought a few good printed maps, a book to motivate me to get back into writing — I have dozens of those and they don’t work, but I keep trying — and some magnetic bookmarks. I think I spent $40. I walked the entire mall. I found a shoe store and bought a pair of Vans slip-on canvas shoes to replace the open back shoes I’d been wearing (and hating) for weeks.

I drove into downtown Las Cruces. Again, I was underwhelmed. Malls and strip malls and big box stores and online shopping have certainly killed enough downtowns. Las Cruces is one of the bigger cities in New Mexico and it’s downtown was a dismal bore. I even managed to get a parking space on the street — remember, I’m in a 26-foot truck/camper combo pulling a 16-foot utility trailer. I visited the Coas bookstore and bought three more writing books. I would have bought a fourth, but it was a review copy clearly labeled “Not For Resale” and they were asking $20 for it. There’s just something so very wrong about that.

After that, I drove around a bit looking for a place to get lunch and coming up empty. Sure, I saw fast food joints away from downtown, but that’s not what I wanted. I was hoping for some local food, maybe Mexican. I stopped at a Harbor Freight to buy some files; I’d left most of mine at home and really needed them in the studio. There was a Mexican restaurant next door and I asked the guy at checkout about it. He said he’d tried it a few times and didn’t like it. He suggested instead that I stop at the Kwik Check (a gas station) for some burritos. I thanked him, got back into the truck, and headed west. I did not stop at Kwik Check.

I’d had such a positive experience at Leasburg State Park that I decided to try City of Rocks, north of Deming, for a few nights. The guy camped next door to me for my first night at Leasburg had mentioned it. I wanted to check out Silver City, which was north of there, but I didn’t want to visit on a weekend. So I booked three nights at City of Rocks, planning to go from there to Silver City on Monday. I got a basic campsite with no hookups, which was fine since the camper had been refreshed at Leasburg.

There wasn’t much choice in routing. I had to take I-10. I got off at Akala, which is on the Apache reservation and followed highway 549, a two lane road, from there into Deming. It was all just desert, with patches of agricultural areas here and there. Deming had a decent little town, but I wasn’t in the mood to park and walk. I was hungry, though. I found a local place called the Cactus Cafe, and went inside. I had the most amazing burger and seasoned fries.

From there, I headed northwest on Route 180 for a bunch of miles and then turned northeast on Route 61. Then I was driving down a steep hill into a valley filled with boulders. The City of Rocks.

I shot this on my way out of the park on Sunday morning. Same view as Friday, but better light.

I stopped at the visitor’s center to check in. Before I knew it, the ranger had suggested that I swap my back-in campsite for pull through in another area of the park. Sounded good to me. I followed her instructions and found myself maneuvering my rig into a spot among boulders bigger than my camper.

My campsite at City of Rocks just before sunset on the day I arrived.

We had just enough time before sunset for me to put on my hiking shoes and go out for a hike with my pups among the boulders. We didn’t go far; even though I found a great spot to watch the sunset from, we didn’t stay because I didn’t want to have to hike back in the dark. Along the way, I saw the site I would have been in and agreed that it might have been tough to back in there. The bigger problem, however, is that it was nowhere near level.

We settled in for the night. I was exhausted.

I put out the StarLink the next day. Although I had a bit of a signal on my phone, it wasn’t really enough to do the research I wanted to do for my next few days of travel. One of the rangers had mentioned Gila Cliff Dwellings and I was interested. I was especially interested later in the day after a 1.9 mile hike through the length of the park. I felt as if I’d “done” City of Rocks and didn’t need another day.

It doesn’t look very impressive in this photo, but if you consider that most of these rocks were considerably taller than me and there were hundreds of them — well, maybe you get the idea.

Before sunset, I pulled my camper out, turned it around, and pulled back into the site with my window facing out toward the setting sun. It was a lot more pleasant than looking out at a picnic table I didn’t use nestled among the rocks. I watched the sun set while reading at my camper’s table.

My view of sunset from the camper. The building with the two pipes coming out the top was a bathroom.

The wind picked up and blew hard all night. The cold front that was bringing normal seasonal weather back to the southwest had arrived. There was snow in the forecast for Monday.

Gila Cliff Dwellings, December 28

I got an early start the next day. It was 72 miles to the Gila Cliff Dwellings and I’d already been warned that the roads could be a little challenging for a rig like mine.

It was a gorgeous day. The first part of the drive, northeast on Route 61, was just like the drive from Yarnell to Prescott through Skull Valley in Arizona. High desert terrain, sweeping curves on the road, small settlements, open range, boulders and rock formations. As usual, the towns were more names on the maps than anything else; there were very few businesses along the way.

When Route 61 ended, I was on Route 152 for a short distance and then Route 35. The road seemed to get a little narrower as it took me northwest, up into the mountains. The terrain changed; there were more tall trees and fewer vistas. Then Route 35 ended and I turned north on Route 15. And that’s when the fun began.

Route 15 was a winding road that climbed up and down steep hills with drop offs on one side or the other. It threaded its way among mountain peaks 7000+ and 8000+ feet tall. (Somewhere along the way, I had crossed the Continental Divide.) This went on for miles through the Gila National Forest. Finally, it descended down out of the National Forest, through a town called Gila Hot Springs, and back into the National Forest where it would eventually end at the Cliff Dwellings parking lot.

I detoured to the Visitor Center where I got some information and two very good maps. Then I drove to the Cliff Dwellings parking lot, used the toilet there, and let my dogs out to do their business. They would not be allowed on the trail to the Cliff Dwellings, so I put them in the camper where they had food and water and set off alone.

A ranger stood at the start of the trail. She gave all hikers a briefing. The trail was a mile long with a steep climb in one area. (The total ascent was just under 200 feet, so it wasn’t a big deal.) Hikers were not allowed to bring snacks or flavored drinks (water only) and they couldn’t chew gum or smoke. This is to keep litter off the trail and out of the ruins. When she was satisfied that I wasn’t breaking these rules, she let me continue. I crossed a bridge over the Gila River, noting a beaver dam just upstream, and started up the trail.

The trail wound up a canyon with a small creek and I must have crossed eight or so bridges along the way. The canyon was in the shadows and it was chilly. Then it started to climb more steeply, offering views of the cliff dwellings as it got out into the sun. The steep part was steps and I climbed them with a few short rests along the way. Then I was there at the start of the ruins, which I had pretty much all to myself.

One of the dozens of photos I took at the Gila Cliff Dwellings. There were very few people up there with me.

I explored the ruins to the extent visitors were allowed. I took a lot of photos. It was interesting to see how they had built in the space. The ruins are about 80% original, but they are not complete. Still, original wooden beams exist in situ and that’s how they dated the ruins back to around 1200-1300 AD. Visit the website to learn more.

I spent about an hour up there, really taking my time. As usual, it felt good to take everything in at my own pace, without being rushed or delayed by someone else. For some reason, I felt really good that day, like I was doing something worth doing. I wish I could explain it.

I hiked back down and, after chatting with a different ranger at the trailhead, went back to my rig. I got my girls out of the camper and back into the truck. We headed back down Route 15, away from the park, stopping briefly at Doc Campbell’s Post, where I bought an ice cream.

By this time, it was about 1:30 PM. I’d passed a camping area right on the Gila River just south of town and I really wanted to stay there. The trouble was:

• It was supposed to get very cold overnight.
• It was supposed to snow the next day.
• There was 45 miles of winding mountain road between Gila Hot Springs and Silver City.

Although I’d be fine there overnight, I was not prepared to drive in icy conditions the next day. And although I had enough food to last me a week, there was unlikely to be enough sun to keep my solar panels charged. That meant if I got “stuck” there, I’d have to run my generator to be able to charge up the batteries so I could run the heat overnight. None of that sounded good to me.

But I did pull into the spot for lunch. I let my dogs run around a little, then went into the camper and cooked up some gyro meat with onions and eggs. I followed that up with some ice cream. Then I stowed everything, got back into the truck with my pups, and headed out.

The first part of the road seemed to go more quickly than it had on the way up. Then I got to the junction of route 35. As I continued south on Route 15, I caught a glimpse of a sign that said something like large trucks or vehicles towing should reconsider driving on that road. By then it was too late. I was on it and heading south.

The ranger at City of Rocks had said the road was 1 1/2 lanes wide. Now I knew exactly what she meant. It did not look wide enough for two cars to pass each other. It had hairpin switchback curves that I wasn’t sure my truck, with its horrible turning radius, could negotiate. But I managed, often while climbing what looked like 10% grades. The road climbed and twisted and climbed and turned, mile after mile. Eventually, I reached the “top” where it traced a narrow ridge with drop offs on either side and not a guardrail to be seen anywhere.

What a road!

Once I got past the initial shock of the kind of road I was on, I just went with it. I was the only one on the road — there was no one in front of me, behind me, or coming at me. So I just drove at a comfortable speed, trying to enjoy the views and the novelty of where I was and wishing, more than once that there wasn’t any snow in the forecast so that I could find a place to pull off for the night and enjoy being at the top of the world.

Eventually, the road started to descend back into the forest. Now vehicles were coming from the other direction, passing me. Sometimes they would stop and slow at the edge of the road on their side and sometimes I would do the same on my side. There were no close calls. These people weren’t idiots.

The closer I got to Silver City, the more vehicles there were. It was the week between Christmas and New Year so a lot of people apparently had time off. Most of the vehicles coming up were pickup trucks. There was one motorhome. One guy was pulling a decent sized trailer — okay, maybe he was an idiot.

I eventually passed the Cherry Creek campground, which had been my last forest service option for the night before Silver City. I thought again of the rain or snow and slick roads and being “stuck” in a forest with no sunlight to keep my batteries charged and having to listen to the drone of my own generator and kept going.

I crossed the Continental Divide again. (If you’re keeping track, I was now back on the east side.) Then I came out of the forest and started descending into Silver City.

I had already decided — after a suggestion by the Ranger up at the Cliff Dwellings trailhead — to try spending the night at Walmart. But first I drove through town. I was pleasantly surprised to see a relatively vibrant downtown that actually had shops and restaurants open on a Sunday night.

But I was tired. I drove to the Walmart, went in to do some grocery shopping, and then repositioned my rig to a side parking lot where I could park parallel to an earthen berm away from any traffic. I let my pups run around on the berm to do their business, then went into the camper with them and my grocery bags, put away the groceries, and started making dinner.

I’d driven more than 120 miles on twisting mountain roads and was exhausted.

Silver City, December 29

I slept remarkably well. The parking lot was quiet and no one bothered me. I wasn’t the only boondocker; there was a big motorhome at the edge of the main lot and a ridiculously bright yellow Sprinter van parked about 200 feet from me. The Sprinter van was gone by the time I made my coffee and the motorhome was gone when I left at about 7 AM.

I went to a local laundromat that just happened to be next door to the Visitor Center, where there were RV parking spots. I took one. I did my laundry and visited the Visitor Center during the dry cycle. I got some info about the town, including the name of a Realtor I could talk to.

I put the laundry into the camper and walked over a little bridge into town. I spent the next two hours walking around, talking to people in the shops that were open. (The Monday Curse strikes again; more than half the shops there are closed on Mondays.) I learned a lot of positive things. I talked to a Realtor and she showed me, on her computer, multiple homes within my price range and even a few commercial properties. I liked almost everything I saw. This was the first town in New Mexico that I could actually imagine moving to.

I had lunch in a local diner, then went back to the camper. I had to decide whether I wanted to stay another day and maybe look at properties or keep going. I decided to keep going. I wasn’t ready to move and couldn’t see looking at properties I wasn’t ready to buy.

So we headed south, out of town, stopping for fuel along the way.

I had found another forest service dispersed campsite not far off Route 90 on the way southwest to Lordsburg just past the Continental Divide. Unfortunately, I missed the turn for it and could not easily turn around. But I found another turn into the national forest land there a bit farther down the road. I pulled over, checked the satellite image to make sure there was a place to turn around once I got in there, and then pulled in. I had to open a gate, pull through, and then close the gate behind me. Then there was a steep climb up a dirt road before I reached a powerline road. The road circled a clump of trees and I drove around it, stopping next to a rock firepit with my truck pointing out. I killed the engine. We had arrived at our overnight destination.

After my pups got out and ran around for a while — and I mean that quite literally — we climbed back into the camper. It was around 3 PM and the wind was howling. I realized that I was pretty much at the top of a ridge and had a wonderful view out the back of the camper down into the valley where Lordsburg was. But the wind was relentless and it was cold. Worse yet, because it had been cloudy most of the day, my batteries hadn’t fully charged. I had to conserve power and that meant turning the heat down. Way down.

Two large black cows walked by as I sat at the table reading. Open range.

Before it got dark, I fed my pups and let them out one more time. It was bitter cold. We went back in and I closed all the blinds, including the one over the skylight, to help keep the cold air out.

I snuggled in bed under the blankets. I was just cold enough overnight to know I was cold.

Leaving New Mexico, December 30

In the morning, I stayed snuggled in bed with a book until it got light out. I checked my power levels and was surprised that they were as high as they were. I got up and turned up the heat a little. I made my coffee and got back into bed. When the sun hit the solar panels and my levels started to rise, I cranked up the heat. I took my pups out to do their business and we all hurried back inside. That wind! I fed them and got right back into bed.

I realized that I had become road weary. I wanted to stop for a few days someplace easy where I wouldn’t need to worry about battery power or finding a place to spend the night. Fortunately, I had friends back in Arizona and they had already told me I could stay at their second home in Sierra Vista. That’s where I’d go.

It was well after 10 AM when I got back on the road. We came down the mountain into the desert. I drove through Lordsburg, just checking it out, and was disappointed again. I set my Maps app to direct me to Bisbee, AZ.

Somewhere on Route 80, just past the town of Rodeo, NM, we crossed back into Arizona. My New Mexico explorations were over.

I just “read” The AI Con: How to Fight Big Tech’s Hype and Create the Future We Want by Emily M Bender and Alex Hanna. I put “read” in quotes because I got it from the library as an audiobook and listened to it as I was making my long annual drive south. It wasn’t a long book — just 8 hours in audio format — and there was some repetition, but it was a good read. I highly recommend it, especially if you believe that true artificial intelligence currently exists and it is making our world better. (Spoiler alert: real AI doesn’t currently exist — at least not at the average user level — and what is being pushed as AI is failing miserably at making most things better.)

The authors take great pains to explain that what a lot of what’s being sold as artificial intelligence (AI) is nothing more than a generative large language model (LLM). Their explanation of exactly what an LLM is and how it works is thorough, clear, and easy to understand. Generative LLMs are designed to create text that seems like it could be right. They don’t think or reason and they’re just as likely to make things up as they are to pull facts from a reliable reference. They just string words together. There’s nothing intelligent about them.

They also talk about the history of machine learning, which is what AI proponents are trying to say today’s AI is:

There are applications of machine learning that are well scoped, well tested, and involve appropriate training data such that they deserve their place among the tools we use on a regular basis. These include such everyday things as spell-checkers (no longer simple dictionary look-ups, but able to flag real words used incorrectly) and other more specialized technologies like image processing used by radiologists to determine which parts of a scan or X-ray require the most scrutiny.

But in the cacophony of marketing and startup pitches, these sensible use cases are swamped by promises of machines that can effectively do magic, leading users to rely on them for information, decision-making, or cost savings—often to their detriment or to the detriment of others.

That’s the AI con of the title — AI “boosters” are trying to sell today’s AI as something it is not.

The authors refer to generative AI as “synthetic media machines” and remind readers that these systems are trained on mostly copyrighted text and images, usually accessed without the permission of the copyright holders or creators. Responding to user prompts, they basically regurgitate source content to create new versions of it. With the right prompts, however, they can be made to spit out exact copies of the source material, thus removing any “fair use” argument the promoters of these systems might try to use to defend their outright theft of material.

As I read through the book, I felt as if they were preaching to the choir. My feelings about AI are pretty much identical to theirs. I’m seeing the reality of what it is, what it can do, and what it can’t do. I’m perpetually annoyed by the spread of AI slop and the way the general public seems so willing to accept it — if not generate it. The hype — and the fact that investors and politicians are buying into it to the detriment of our world — enrages me.

The book has the following chapters, each of which are full of sometimes horrifying examples:

Chapter 1: An Introduction to AI Hype
Chapter 2: It’s Alive! The Hype of Thinking Machines
Chapter 3: Leisure for Me, Gig Work for Thee: AI Hype at Work
Chapter 4: If it Quacks Like a Doc: AI Hype and Social Services
Chapter 5: Artifice of Intelligence? AI Hype in Art, Journalism, and Science
Chapter 6: I’m Sorry, Dave, I’m Afraid I Can’t Do That: AI Doomers, AI Boosters, and Why None of That Makes Sense
Chapter 7: Do You Believe in Hope after Hype?

Again, I recommend the book. If you already feel as I do about AI, you’ll likely come away with more examples of why we should be outraged about its hype. If you, for some reason, have fallen for the hype, it will educate you about the reality of the situation. The only people really benefiting from today’s version of AI are the boosters stuffing their pockets with investor money.