On our morning walk we came upon Bernie and his wife cleaning out their trailer. They had sold it and were preparing to make room for the many designer purses they sell. Since my bike was out of our trailer and I had the room, I offered them use of mine. In the conversational exchange I mentioned that I wanted to visit Quartzite. I had been intrigued by this place for years, wondering about the draw and why so many people boondocked there. Being only a hour and a half down the road, we decided that we should take a day trip. Bernie talked about the number of vendors there and the fact that you couldn’t see it all in a day. We decided to forego the gym this morning and hit the road. I’ve read articles for years and have heard stories for just as long on the lure and attraction of boondocking in the desert. I’ve had a penchant to visit and now we were headed west on I-10 to see what we had been missing.
There’s a need to digress here. Initially this blog started out as a journal to let friends and family know where we were and what we were up to. In the last year, I’ve had thousands of inquiries about fulltime motorhoming, our travels, campgrounds and sites we’ve visited. It has grown from that journal to a paltry piece of travel writing. And in a lesson recently learned a good travel writer is honest, tells it like it is, even if the truth may be a bit negative. So here goes. You can see just about anything that possibly exists in Quartzite. Anything and everything is for sale. I didn’t even know there were such things that existed for sale. Most people here boondock on BLM (Bureau of Land Management) areas. This means that water is trucked in and sewage is pumped and trucked out, often in the same unit. The clean on top and the dirty on the bottom. That was evident as pungent fragrances piqued my olfactory senses. Existing side by side one sees run-down ancient trailers parked along the interstate as well as rigs with purchase prices well into six figures. The spectrum of sights was endless. I’m so glad we visited and quenched that thirst of wanderlust. I’ll probably never matriculate there again. Perhaps I’m too stuffy, perhaps a prude, and maybe a touch of bourgeois. I don’t know. I just felt that I needed a shower. And then came the other end of the marketing spectrum. We were asked to work a hockey game at the Phoenix Coyotes arena for Aramark. It was another new experience as both Robin and I manned cash registers and filled orders at the Hooters concession stand. No, she didn’t have to wear that perky little orange and white outfit nor did I have to don any hotpants. Dismiss that mental image immediately. We had a great time with the crew, learned about the nuances of serving the public and amazed at how many people will drop a fifty for a few hot dogs and beer on top of tickets for several hundred dollars. A family of four topped of with some palty snacks at the end of any one period and they’re over five hundred dollars for the night. Ah, the lure of professional sports and the draw of a possible ice fight sends the crowd into a frenzy, despite the outcome of the engagement.