Recently I surrendered to another case of itchy feet.
There was a personal geographic knowledge gap I needed to fill in before the onset of winter. That’s the reason I pointed Sanctuary Too towards northern New Mexico. There were National Wildernesses and one National Monument that was calling out. “Sambini! Come and visit. You can even stay for awhile since you are low maintenance and quiet.”
So that’s what I did. I headed to the Rio Grande Del Norte National Monument first. (Established by Obama in 2013.) I received positive intel from reliable sources about its beauty and solitude. Correct on both counts. I spent two nights at a BLM campground which possibly was one of my favorite campsites EVER! My pad sat off on its own, including a personal pit toilet. Since I had no neighbors I was able to Solar Shower naked. A real plus. The downside? It’s a bit pricey. For two nights (with my senior discount), the rent was $7. Another example of BIGLY Gubmint sticking it to the people.
Which brings me back to A Change of Seasons. Wild Rivers Recreation Area’s campgrounds were nearly full. Gone were the multigenerational families accompanied by multigenerational dogs. Gone were the college kids playing techno music. The sites were occupied by senior travelers and the Nomadland crowd.
Read all the Nomadland crowd:
It was a sedate crew in which there’s no crime in just “hanging out.” I didn’t meet many fellow campers on the trails. Mostly they were campsite homebodies. I’m OK with that.
My distant neighbors were of the “14 day stay” category. They weren’t in any particular rush and for the Nomadland crowd, no particular place to go.
I could actually see myself staying there a whole lot longer, (Think how many books I’d be able to read in two weeks!) but my curiosity got the best of me. Away I went to give a looksy to the Columbine-Hondo Wilderness and Wheeler Peak Wilderness.
Well…there was a lot of uphill through dense forests and wet feet creek closings without the BIG VIEWS! Or as I say, “Not much bang for my buck.” Heaps of Schvitz (sweat) and hard work with little payout. Although I did see a pika at 12,000 plus foot Lobo Peak.
The Carson National Forests campgrounds were underloved for the two out of three I stayed at. One was so underloved, the Forest Service charged nada! Free! The price was right for my fellow neighbors: two seniors and one young dreadlocked dude in an old tent. Actually it turned out to be fine (even for a guy who could afford to pay like me).
I tried another area of hiking and camping outside of Taos. In the campground along BUSY US Highway 64, I encountered Helen, a 60-70ish old newbie to the Nomadland lifestyle. She acted as the unofficial campground host meeting and greeting us new temporary residents. She resided in a Van which was reminiscent of my old Barley van. After asking her how long she’s been on the road, her story poured forth.
“I’ve been at it for five months. After reading Nomadland and seeing the movie, I decided to give it a go. I got advice from Bob Wells (made famous in the book and movie. ) and off I went. I’ve been at this campground for five nights. I’ll be here another five nights until I join a caravan of full time women RVers. They have an itinerary of places to go in order to get through the winter.”
(Here’s Bob and his book. He’s a year younger than me. All that “Freedom” must have aged him.)
“Where will the caravan be spending the winter?”
“They mentioned going to Pahrump, NV by next month.”
“Have you ever been to PahTrump? There’s more gun shops and casinos than grocery stores. It’s not a spiritual place. Where else will the caravan be going?”
“Quartzite and Yuma. New places to me.”
It was then I confided in Helen that I lived the Nomadland life for 6.5 years.
“I’ve been to Quartzite and Yuma. Once! For a reason. There were too many people in those towns for my tastes. They weren’t natural areas that appealed to me either. For those 6.5 years, I was exploring. It wasn’t about the inexpensive lifestyle. I was checking out areas that might be my next Happy Place. Deep down inside though, I was always searching for a location to eventually settle down in. It wasn’t aimless wondering, although it seemed like that every now and then.”
With that, I handed Helen a half dozen cookies and three oranges. She thanked me profusely. For Helen and the rest of her caravan, it is about the money. I wished her luck and safe travels.
After filling in the “Northern New Mexico Empty Spaces” of my personal map, I turned north towards Colorado’s Rio Grande National Forest and it’s South San Juan Wilderness. Alas, it wasn’t meant to be. All the campgrounds were shuttered for the season. This seemed excessively early to me.
Somehow the summer season yielded to the hunting season. The dirt roads were rife with ATVs driven by well-armed camouflaged garbed folks on the prowl for Bambi. I felt out of my element and wasn’t comfortable setting up camp just anywhere.
Yet, I wasn’t ready to call it quits, so I set my sights on the USFS Lower Piedra campground. It was my first overnight there, although in the past I’ve done plenty of disbursed camping along the Mighty Piedra River. I’ll sum it up quickly. There were around 20 campsites containing two other extremely quiet campers. Nothing but the sound of the gurgling River.
Perfect. This campground too was about to close for season.
Internally, I’m registering the shorter days, the brisk mornings and the exaggerated shadows. I’m not pleased with knowing summer (my favorite season) is on the wane.
Autumn is beautiful. Still I become verklempt with the reality of the lurking “Here’s Johnny!” behind the door. That’s Winter. AKA my least favorite season.
The change of seasons is complicated!
Summer vacations yielding to retirees and full-time Nomads. Then the hunters appear. Public campgrounds begin locking their gates.
Before you know it, the Jewish New Year arrives!
Which brings me to this last photo. In this, the year 5783 (Jews have been around longer than the oldest Bristlecone Pine tree. That’s ancient.) I decided to perform a traditional Tashlich on the banks of the Mighty Animas River.
What’s a Tashlich? It’s a symbolic Jewish Guilt ritual in which the sinner (me) cast whole wheat bread into the surging Mighty Animas River, thereby tossing my past transgressions away and beginning 5783 with a clean slate.
Personally I think it’s all about fattening the fish before the Passover Gefilte Fish harvest.
Enjoy the seasons whichever one is your favorite,
Cheers
Jeff
