Bear Belly Adventures

The temperatures are noticeably warmer and the breezes are much appreciated as temperatures near 90 at the end of February.  The crickets have begun their chorus of chirping in the evening and even the birds are more abundant.  Before the morning sun breaks the ridge I hear Mourning Doves sing their low, all too familiar, melancholy songs and coyotes responding with their soulful howls. I sit among them thinking I am being adventurous, but am I not just surviving like they are?  They just live. Animals don’t label.  I had to pause and reconsider labeling this life as an adventure.  That label makes me feel trapped with an expectation to meet a certain quota of exploits.  Those expectations take away from the real reason I began this season of my life.

Quartzsite hasn’t been the adventure I thought I would be living when I first hit the road.  It’s been steady. Predictable. Comfortable.  Instead of adventure I found moments.  Moments that capture happiness and moments that spark reminiscence.  

One of Yuma’s dog parks is located in a city lot between a residential area and the back side of retail stores.   For a city dog park in the desert this one was actually pretty nice.  It was narrow but very long.  There was sand, dirt and green grass.  Nana loves the dog park.  I think she can smell them because she starts to whine in anticipation before I even stop and open the door. When all looks safe, I unleash the Kraken!  Nana loves to be chased and will try to get any dog, any size to chase her.  Other dog owners love that it gets their dogs moving too.  We spent about an hour there and she ran non-stop.  I don’t think she knows her own limits!

Mittry Lake is a wildlife area near Yuma.  I’m still not used to seeing palm trees around a lake.  Nana has been used to sandy bottoms that gradually fade into deeper waters. She stepped off the bank and her entire front half went underwater, leaving only her hind legs sticking up.  For a moment she looked like a duck diving under for food!  I couldn’t tell if she thought it was fun or not but I got to chuckle on the drive home with a wet dog, lucky me!

I love these moments with Nana that end up with a derpy, happy doggy smile on both our faces.

One evening I drove past our “driveway” in the desert. I’ve missed it before and simply backed up. This time I kept going. A few minutes later we were at the edge of the LTVA where overnight camping isn’t allowed. No generators. No rigs. No people. Just open desert stretching out in front of us.  I immediately began imagining: this is what it must have looked like for Wyatt Earp and his brothers chasing down the outlaw Ike Clanton and the Cowboys!  Nana was off leash and I was on lookout for bandits on the horizon. I honestly expected her to run like crazy but she did really well checking in with me and mostly staying by my side.  Nana saw the Jeep and knew the fun was about to end and started acting like she couldn’t hear me.  I’m not sure why I waited so long to see what was at the end of the road but I am glad I missed the driveway.  We’ll definitely go back looking for more desperados!

We went to Marine Corps Air Station, Yuma to see if we could save some money on groceries.  The savings were nice, and the fresh meat looked much better than Walmart’s.  What I really found was something much different than fairly priced food.  I was struck with the reminder of how different things are on a military base.   The staff went out of their way to chat or answer questions.  Even the other people shopping were on a different level than Walmart shoppers.  Their kindness and respect reminded me of the camaraderie from my time in uniform. 

After all these years I didn’t expect to miss that as much as I do.

When I first hit the road, I felt trapped by a life that looked stable from the outside. Job. Mortgage. Expectations. I didn’t leave because I hated home. I left because I needed to breathe.  I didn’t hit the road to chase constant adventure. I hit the road for agency. To live on my schedule. To help when I choose. To move when I choose.  Quartzsite hasn’t been a grand adventure. It’s been steady. It’s been comfortable. It’s begun to feel like home. And for someone without a traditional home, that’s not something I take lightly. I don’t need to chase spectacle. I just need the freedom to move when the season shifts — and the comfort of knowing I can return.