Road Trip XII, Days 5-10, Paso Robles to the Chiricahuas: Campering

Posted on February 25, 2024 by gretchenwing

Hi there–guess we all survived Post #666 together. Except for my mis-identifying our San Francisco son as Son One instead of Two–lo siento, m’hijos–everything worked. Let’s keep this trip going!

As the World’s Newbiest RVers, The Mate and I are learning the difference between camping and campering. What can go wrong with camping usually has mostly to do with the weather: are you too cold, too hot, too wet? Is your tent trying to blow away?

Campering, in contrast, offers an entire smorgasbord of issues. You are, after all, driving a tiny house.

Not tiny for US, you understand…but Vanna seems much less huge when compared to some of her…peers?

Again, I won’t go into details about propane and appliances and switches and all that other fun stuff that requires you to learn whether…that noise you’re hearing? Is that a GOOD noise or a BAD noise? Let’s just say the last week has been playing a bit of The Fortunately/Unfortunately Game with us.

Fortunately, we got out of Paso Robles and escaped the Atmospheric River drenching the coast.

From the car: crossing the actual Paso of Paso Robles (oak pass)

Unfortunately, the skies were still quite wet & gloomy in Twentynine Palms (see photo #1).

Fortunately, I got enough clearing to take Liza out on her first ride of the trip. Unfortunately, she immediately got a flat rear tire. (Lots of prickly stuff in the desert, even on the roads.)

Fortunately, we found a local bike shop and did errands while Liza’s tire was getting changed.

Unfortunately, Vanna’s battery completely died when we tried to start her up to go pick up Liza.

But FORTUNATELY, we weren’t out in the middle of Joshua Tree National Park, which has zero cell service…

If this isn’t called God’s Fist, it should be.

…so we were able to call a husband-wife mechanic team, one of whom came to jump-start us and lead us back to their shop, where the other replaced our battery. And because we are driving a tiny house, we were able to make & eat lunch while all the work was done!

Next up, Joshua Tree, hooray! Camping in Jumbo Rocks, one of the premier campgrounds we’ve never been able to get a reservation for! Site 92. Where are you, 92? Oh, there you are. Why is someone else’s camper parked in you?

Unfortunately, I had written our reservation into the wrong day of my calendar. It was the night before. At least I couldn’t blame that one on machines.

Oh Site 92, we barely knew ye! (Not pictured: us)

It was a long drive out of the park and back onto Interstate 10. But fortunately, as darkness fell, we were able to find an RV slot right on the Arizona border, which, in the morning, proved to look like this:

Not exactly the Colorado River of my dreams. Another difference between camping and campering.

Despite the unimpressive scenery, the next Fortunate item was the fact that this campground was ever so much closer to our next. So when we got here…

Lost Dutchman State Park, just east of Phoenix

…we had ample time for both hiking and biking! Fortunate fortunate fortunate!

Thanks to our friends Marty & Karen for tipping us off to this place!

You just have to love desert survival archetypes!

Once in Arizona, our fortune just kept improving. We stopped at the Tucson Airport to pick up our Adventure Buddies Kate and Tom…

adorable art installation at Tucson airport

…and headed straight for our Desert Happy Place, Western Side: The Chiricahua National Monument.

Since we pass through this area pretty much every road trip we can, I didn’t indulge my photographic impulses as much as I used to.

But, I mean, you gotta get SOME of the flavor of Chiricahuas 2024.

One more?

OK, that’s it–I’m cutting myself off here.

Since Vanna’s not equipped for four, we stayed in a motel, then next morning drove the LONG way around, into New Mexico and back into AZ, to the tiny hamlet of Portal and the east side of these lovelies:

Since our favorite rental cabin was sold, we’ve started coming to Cave Creek Ranch: quiet, sweet, gorgeous, low-key, and chock full of birds. (And birders.)

Even with only my phone as camera, you should be able to see this Acorn Woodpecker.

They even have cardinals here–yes, actual Arizona Cardinals! (State bird of my home state, NC; I’m fond of these guys.)

Amazingly, Cave Creek has a resident cat, who apparently doesn’t bother the birds. “Beauty” is HUGE…and missing an eye, thanks to tangling with a bobcat, they said.

But my favorite critters around this desert oasis are the wild javelina. Or as I call ’em, piggies.

Taking a mud bath, right in front of our cabin. “Have you seen the little piggies, stirring up the dirt?”

Really, though–who needs critters when you have crags?

Our first night, the full moon rose over our cabin…

…and the next morning, the rising sun lit the crags an even darker color of salmon…

…and my heart sang. Being here, neither camping NOR campering, is enough. Back to #VannaLife tomorrow, but for now, I’m just going to wallow like the piggies.

Road Trip X, Days 11-13: The Chiricahuas. Period.

Posted on February 26, 2020 by gretchenwing

What strange impulse leads us humans to share our special secrets?

Notice that this post has no cute subtitle beyond a geographic label. That’s because the Chiricahua Mountains are the special secret of the Mate and me and a very, VERY few other people—I can only think of four. That’s the main reason they’re special to us. And yet, here I am talking about them. Can’t help myself.

Waaayyyy down there at the bottom right. (image courtesy freeworldmaps)

The west side of the mountains is the better known half, because that’s the National Monument side. We’ve camped there a couple of times, including last year. It has very cool rocks.

See what I mean? But that was last year (snow & all).

This year we opted for the east side, which means driving into New Mexico, then heading south and west and ending up back in Arizona–just barely–in the miniature town of Portal. No National Monument here…”just” national forest, and wilderness.

Oh, is that all?

Oh, and lest you think those pink cliffs are just the sun…

Nope. Actually pink.

This side of the Chiricahuas is known best by birders. As I’ve probably mentioned before, these mountains (rising nearly 10,000 feet) act as both an oasis for higher-elevation plant & animal species, AND wildlife corridor for everything that walks, flies and slithers. You can see birds here that otherwise you’d have to go to Mexico to see. They have coatis (not seen this trip). And javelinas.

THIS. Hairy piggie!

(Gotta admit, this particular piggie disconcerted us a bit. In the past, we’ve only spotted them bolting and scuttling, but this one sashayed through our yard to rub its butt against a prickly pear, then came right up to our cabin like it wanted to order a sandwich. Guess some idiot’s been feeding them.)

In 2004, our little family of four spent a few months living in Santa Fe, and that’s when a friend first showed us this marvelous canyon. It was mid-March then, and the place was buzzing with birders (also hummingbirds of a dozen species). We were a little starved for moisture and what we northwesterners call “real trees” (i.e., something other than pinons and cottonwoods). Being so high, the Chiricahuas collect snow, and fill their canyons with creeks. And creeks mean one of my favorite trees of all.

Not all the sycamores are this mighty. But they’re all this lovely.

March was great. April might be even prettier, who knows? But now, in February? We and the locals have the place to ourselves!

And we even got a few flowers out of the deal.

The Traveling Avos & Oranges enjoyed the view as well.

Here, piggie, piggie! (Just kidding.)

If you ever make the trip down to the furthest corner of Arizona, do let me know. We Chiricahua Enthusiasts are a small but passionate tribe.

(Note: you CAN drive from one side of the mountains to the other, but not in February. And not in any kind of car you value, unless you drive a Jeep.)

Yes please.

So pick a side and go. Go to hike, ride a bike, camp, watch birds, or just sit there in awe with your feet in a sycamore-shaded stream and your eyes on glory.

Road Trip IX, Days 11-16, Tucson to Central Texas: Why Have I Never Heard Of This Park Before?

Posted on March 1, 2019 by gretchenwing

Disclaimer: some of the pictures from this stretch of our trip come from parks that are very well known indeed. Like Saguaro National Park, whose two sections frame Tucson. We love Saguaro, but we have fallen into a rut the last few times through, opting to ride our bikes around the wonderful 8-mile loop of the eastern chunk of park. This time, we went west.

Now THIS is winter desert. Right?

But that glorious sunshine didn’t greet us till the second day. What did? THIS.

Really, Tucson? Really?!

There’s a reason I have no pictures of Tucson’s sweet downtown, as we were too busy avoiding frozen puddles and hunkering down in coffee shops to sightsee.

But when it came to snowy cactus, my camera couldn’t get enough.

Ocotillo…which ought to be blooming this time of year!

I really need to stop clicking and start hiking.

Okay, okay…one more!

Also on the west side is the Desert Museum, one of the best put-together set of exhibits we’ve ever come across to interpret the desert environment.

Really cool sculpture there, tracing the evolution of animal life from protozoan on up.

It happens to include a zoo, made up of animals rescued from injury or abandonment.

Like Cruz the puma, who gave us the death-stare from three feet away (behind glass).

The greater Tucson area also includes a good network of bike paths, but the section we rode was more about exercise and visiting with an old friend, so no photos there either. Ditto on the tacos.

After three days of civil, though, we were eager to revisit one our favorite and least-known parks: Chiricahua National Monument.

Hoodoos in my happy place!

We’re pretty sure the only people who know about this park in Arizona’s extreme southeast corner are friends of ours we’ve raved to, or birders. Birders know the Chiricahuas, because they rear up to 10,000 feet, create their own riparian system in the desert, and act like an oasis for bird species you’d otherwise have to go to Mexico to spot.

The Mate and I aren’t birders, or we wouldn’t have been there in February. We’re hikers. And once again, having arrived just after a snowstorm, I couldn’t stop taking pictures of big rocks in snow.

Enough of these to make giant mushroom soup.

Different flavor of mushroom?

The Mate above Echo Canyon

Me in The Grotto

Or just big rocks.

Can’t…stop…taking…pics!!

Camping was cold: 28 degrees.

With faithful Red Rover in the background

We’ve slept through colder, though, and it was so worth it to be there at sunset…

G’night…

…and under starlight, and sunrise (even though my fingers were too chilled for photos by then).

Next stop: Las Cruces, NM, a town we’ve driven past multiple times. This time we met a friend there and, unusually for us, stayed in an artsy inn.

VERY artsy.

We also hiked, twice, in a section of another park we’ve never bothered to notice: Organ Mountains Desert Peaks National Monument.

Heading for Dripping Springs…which were actually dripping.

I kept thinking, “This is just as cool as the Pinnacles! Where has this park been all my life?” No condors, true, but…

This! (and the ruins of an old TB sanatorium. This place would heal me!)

There was also a cave, which came with intriguing stories from the 1700s about a murdered priest/hermit.

No disrespect, Father What-was-your-name.

Made of volcanic tuff…ancient, petrified ash.

Before heading out across the dismally flat and featureless West Texas plain, we hit one more park. Guadalupe Mountains National Park was first introduced to us via the mystery writer Nevada Barr, whose park ranger protagonist, Anna Pigeon, worked there in Barr’s first book. While hiking solo, I kept that book cover in mind: it featured a puma print. (Puma attacks have been in the news lately…)

But pretty soon the scenery seized hold of my attention.

Hey, wow–a madrona tree! Like a hello wave from the Pacific Northwest!

The Guadalupes are part of the same range as the hollowed-out mountain which we know as Carlsbad Caverns. They are an ancient reef of limestone, uplifted 6-8,000 feet and eroded from within by water.

You can see how much this stuff wants to be hollowed out.

I saw plenty of evidence of that geology on my speed-hike (racing sunset).

On the right: pure, smooth limestone–probably full of fossils. On the left, an aggregate of loose rock glued back together somehow. Oh, why aren’t I a geologist???

The real “prize” of that hike was this formation, Devil’s Hall:

Ever notice how the Devil gets all the cool stuff named after him?

But the whole hike was cool. We’ll definitely be back to the Guadalupes, hopefully to camp!

After spending the night in the town of Carlsbad, we put on our big-kid panties and headed out across West Texas.

Sighhhh.

Now THIS scenery we can all be forgiven for not knowing about.

While we’re on the topic, though, I’ll ask my annual Road Trip Question: does anyone have any special, little-known beauty spots of their own to tell about?

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Road Trip VIII, Days 10-13, LA to Arizona’s Chiricahuas: Hidden Treasures and the Sisterhood of the Traveling Avocados

Posted on February 21, 2018 by gretchenwing

Is anything more satisfying than seeing or experiencing or eating something hardly anyone else gets to? I think that’s why we humans love secret hideouts, bragging about buying stuff on sale, and scarce foods like truffles (not the chocolate kind, which are much less rare and infinitely more delicious).

I’m writing this from a special place which has been, in fact, a historical hideout—for the Apache leader Cochise, and also for Gerónimo—and which is so little known as to count as a hidden treasure. The “town” is named Portal, but it’s the portal to the Chiricahuas, a region of such grandeur it belongs more in the class of the Grand Canyon than in the obscurity of this southeasternmost corner of Arizona. One side of the mountains is actually a national monument; we’ve camped there before but I never blogged about it and don’t have those pictures accessible. But no worries: the non-monument side, where we’re staying in a cabin (since it was starting to snow, no camping)…THIS side manages to be just as spectacular.

How to describe the Chiricahuas? Soaring rock towers in gold and orange…

caves and hoodoos carved by wind…

…presiding over a deep valley of scrub oak and sycamore.

I also was startled by several javelinas, aggressive little wild piggies that burst out of the brush and give you a heart attack. Alas, I wasn’t able to grab my camera in time, so I had to settle for this picture of their diggings next to this barrel cactus:

Desert riparian: that’s the term for the rare phenomenon of streamside vegetation in the midst of drought. And along with the sunrise-colored rock, that habitat is what makes this place so special.

The only people we’ve met who have heard of this place are birders, and for good reason: as a little island of Sierra in the midst of the Sonoran desert, the Chiricahua offers a familiar haven to birds usually found only in the mountains of Mexico. Birders from all over the world congregate here every spring to “bag” rare species of hummingbird, and that most prized of sightings, the Elegant Trogon.

We aren’t birders. Also, it’s February. So we make do with what we can spot: turkeys!

But what about those avocados?

Getting back to the joy of rare things: our cousins in LA have a 100 year-old avocado tree, a huge beauty that bears fruit like green butter. When we left them, they gifted us with half a dozen, which we have been ripening serially as we travel. So, Avocado #1 went into a quesadilla in a motel outside of Joshua Tree National Park, where, sadly, a freezing windstorm was filling the air with dust and blasting our hopes of camping.

#2 met a similar fate in Tucson, where, still stymied by wind and dust, we holed up with map and weather reports and figures out where we could find some clear air to recreate in.

So Avocado #3 had the honor today of gracing an arugula salad…and the front porch of our cabin. Thanks, cousins!