Leaving Costco and Buckeye and heading toward the Safeway in Wittenberg on my way to Congress, there were two potential paths I could take.
- Stay on the interstate and use the major highway.
- Head on the back roads cutting through a bunch of BLM land and what I believe was Arizona State Trust land on a road named Vulture Mine Road.
Well, you know which one I chose. And I’m really happy I did.
It started off with just more flat desert land, but then I ended up in these; I can’t really call them mountains, but rolling hills. Absolutely beautiful teddy bear cholla cactuses and saguaro cactuses covered the landscape magnificently. Some of the saguaro cactuses looked old and ancient, with arms sprouting from arms. It was beautiful in so many ways.
I can only imagine how stunning this area looks in the spring when all the flowers and all the cactuses are blooming.
The drive through this gorgeous landscape put a smile on my face and made me excited for what May lay ahead.
On The Outskirts of Wickenburg
As I’m driving in these beautiful rolling hills on this windy curvy road, I see something that just totally surprises me. Absolutely gorgeous lush green grass.
I’m tempted to pull over, jump the fence, rip off my shoes, and run around barefoot in this beautiful grass. That is one thing that the desert is missing is grass.
Of course, I was getting close to town, and it was a golf course. There were at least a couple of ponds I could see with fountains spraying upward and immaculately maintained fairways and greens.
I can’t imagine how much water it takes to keep a golf course running in this type of climate.
Stop #1: Not A Place for Me
I left the Wickenburg Safeway with a full refrigerator and headed toward Congress. Some BLM land north of Congress was where I targeted for my next camping spot. It seemed like it could be fascinating as there was a ghost town nearby.
When I left Wickenburg, I was disappointed to see the terrain begin to change. The saguaro cactuses became more sparse, and the plant life lost much of its character.
When I turned onto the road leading to the BLM land north of Congress, I began to get a very uneasy feeling. I could see where the camping area was. It was exactly where the map indicated, near an old cemetery.
But something inside me started screaming, and I didn’t want to stay. I wanted to leave. I tried driving further into the area, where there were supposedly some other camping areas, and where I could see a few other campers, but the feeling continued to intensify.
Knowing that I wouldn’t get any sleep with how I was feeling and would be completely unnerved, I turned around and hustled my way out of there.
Indeed, I was disappointed that I wouldn’t get to go check out the ghost town. But when your intuition is waving red flags and firing off flares, you have to trust it.
Unfortunately, I hadn’t researched where my next place would be after this one. Honestly, I was hoping this would be an outstanding spot to stay for a week, and I would figure out my next move in a few days.
Before I settled on this spot near Congress, Arizona, I had considered another spot near Parker, so I decided to head toward that location and hope for the best. Unfortunately, it was over two hours away, and it was already 2.30 in the afternoon.
Stop #2: How about a Sign by the Highway?
As I began to get closer to Parker, Arizona, the landscape became bleak. Basically, dirt hills, occasional shrubs, occasional tree – a dune buggy aficionado’s paradise. I got gas in Parker and then headed out to Shea Road, which I really wanted to stay on since, well, you know, it’s my name.
After driving down a once-maintained asphalt road, now covered with unbelievable potholes for a couple of hundred yards, the road became maintained again. I would guess that the city or county was responsible for those first few hundred yards, and then the land became BLM land, and the Department of Interior is responsible.
The place where I was going to stay was about eight miles off the highway.
About 2 miles from the highway, it became insanely clear that there was some type of event involving dune buggies, ATVs, Jeeps, and the like. There were thousands of RVs. Everything was marked off, there was signage, porta-potties, and people everywhere.
Fortunately, the place on the map looked like I would be past all these people. At least, I hoped it would be.
Unfortunately, about 6 miles from the highway, when I reached what looked to be the end of the sea of RVs and off-road toys, there were barricades across the road with a big road closed sign.
Now, I was beginning to feel a little panicky. It was past 5 o’clock, and I wasn’t sure where I was going to stay for the evening.
Stop #3: Standard Wash BLM Dispersed Camping
Back in Parker, I stopped at a Safeway to grab something to eat and went back to the parking lot to look at the maps and try to figure out where the next place I could stay would be.
I would be heading along along Lake Havasu and there certainly are RV parks and state parks, but I didn’t want to sit on the phone for an hour or two potentially waiting for callbacks only to find that there was nothing available. I really needed to find some free camping.
About 40 minutes north, there were a few BLM patches of land, and I decided I would shoot for those.
When I hit the first one, I pulled in, and discovered it was a massive dirt parking lot of RVs with dune buggies again. At this point I’m getting a little bit desperate, so I go ahead and park and quickly check for internet and there’s almost nothing.
Stop #4: Havasu BLM Dispersed
So, head back out again, heading to the next place on the map about another five miles to the north. Again, another place that’s just nothing but RVs and a few people who are obviously living rough and more dune buggies.
At this point, I’ve got little choice. I only hope that the internet is good. When I plugged it in, and it came up with a good connection, I was quite relieved. I dropped the front wheel on the trailer without unhooking and jacked it up level, knowing that tomorrow I was going to take off and try to find someplace that wasn’t a parking lot.
Because I’m not exactly sure where I’ll be going and I’m hoping to find someplace to stay more than a night, I have two 5-gallon water containers and a 3-gallon water container on the floor inside my trailer. As I pull them out, I discover the 3 gallon valve is leaking. I sop up what I can knowing that tomorrow. I’ll need to check everything and get it dry so that I don’t have any water damage.
To tell the truth, this whole day has been frustrating and utterly disappointing. The last two weeks at Saddle Mountain, the week that I spent in the Sonoran Desert National Monument and the few days around Kofi National Wildlife Refuge were enjoyable. The weather was better. I was enjoying myself. It was really pleasant. I really began to feel good about my decision to become a nomad.
Now I’m back to the point of, “Oh no, this seriously sucks and absolutely isn’t what I wanna be doing!”
Sure, I’m in a place where I’ve got an Internet connection, but it’s a completely crap location. I mean, absolutely crappy.
After working late into the night, I opened my map and apps in search of my next location. The weather to the north was still rather chilly, so I decided I would head west into California and head to the Mojave National Preserve.