Posts Tagged “CA”

Wanted: Chief librarian for Slab City Lizard Tree Library. Must be literate, love books, the desert climate, live in own RV and enjoy colorful characters of all types. Pay is non-existent but the fulfillment of running this institution is something money can’t buy. Job starts today.

What began as a final trip to the Slab City Library yesterday has turned into a devastating discovery. This one-of-a-kind institution is on the verge of collapse.

Sunday afternoon I arrived with some DVDs to donate, only to find piles of books thrown around, and an angry look on the face of Ron, the chief librarian. All of the doors to the place had also been removed, the sign had disappeared from the parking lot, and the book donation shelves were gone. He even took our Internut access away.

I was stunned, and asked Ron, “Uh, what happened to the shelves?”

His eyes were filled with rage as he said “I’m sick of picking up after people and their dog shit! I’ve had it! If they want to trash this place they can have it!”

I asked “But….what’s going to happen here?”

Ron said, “It’s a self-serve library from now on. People can take care of it themselves. I’m done!” and he stormed out.

Three years ago, Ron arrived just after the founder of the library died. He was enthusiastic about keeping it going, and moved in next door. He took the wheels off his motorhome, set up an encampment, and went about the business of becoming chief librarian. He’s done an incredible job. Every time I went there, new books had been shelved, more fun knicknacks appeared and the floor was always clean.

But apparently the slobs around here made him snap. Or maybe it the 120 degree summertime temperatures. But last week he threw up his hands and surrendered. Now, this treasure is at risk of becoming just another trash heap in the last free place in America.

I’m so devastated, it kept me awake last night. I love libraries, and this is a rare find in America. It’s killing me that we’re supposed to leave for Anza Borrego tomorrow.

Today I made the “Save the Libaray!” sign and posted it inside, hoping that more people might care enough to stop taking the library for granted. Maybe we can change Ron’s mind about quitting.

I guess I’ll have to wait until next year to find out what happens next.

And if nobody wants the job, I just might apply when we return.

What started out as a final trip to the Slab City Library yesterday has turned into a devastating discovery. This one-of-a-kind institution is on the verge of collapse.

Sunday afternoon I arrived with some DVDs to donate, only to find piles of books thrown around, and an angry look on the face of Ron, the chief librarian. All of the doors to the place had also been removed, the sign had disappeared from the parking lot, and the book donation shelves were gone.

I was stunned, and asked Ron, “Uh, what happened to the shelves?”

He looked at me with rage in his eyes and said “I’m sick of picking up after people and their dog shit! I’ve had it! If they want to trash this place they can have it!”

With my mouth hanging open I said “But….what’s going to happen here?”

Ron said, “It’s a self-serve library from now on. People can take care of it themselves. I’m done!” and he stormed out.

Three years ago, Ron arrived just after the founder of the library died. Ron was enthusiastic about keeping the library alive, and decided he would move in next door. He took the wheels off his motorhome, set up a permanent encampment, and went about the business of becoming head librarian. Up until now he’s done an incredible job keeping this treasure going. Every time I went there, new books had been shelved, more fun knicknacks appeared and the floor was always clean.

But apparently the slobs around here made him snap. Or maybe it the 120 degree summertime temperatures. But last week he threw up his hands and surrendered. Now, this treasure is at risk of becoming just another trash heap in the last free place in America.

I’m devastated. I love libraries, and I swear there’s nowhere like this place in America. It was founded by one woman who loved books, and when she died, the community of snowbirds and regulars kept her legacy alive by spiffing up this hand-built this oasis in the desert.

It’s killing me that we’re supposed to leave to check out Anza Borrego tomorrow. I don’t want to see this place disappear. This morning I made this sign, hoping that more people might give a crap and stop taking the library for granted. I guess I’ll have to wait until next year to find out what they chose to do. Maybe I’ll come back in January and take over as librarian.

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Ciudad Acuna Mexico StreetsForget what the Department of Homeland Security says. Not all border crossings are identical. Each point of entry seems to have its own quirks about what proves you’re a citizen.

In Douglas Arizona, we sashayed into Mexico on foot. The crossing was free, and we showed our California driver’s licenses as proof of nationality.

In Del Rio, Texas, crossing over on foot wasn’t so easy.

First, we had to walk a mile out of the way because of the stupid border fence construction. Then, we were forced to pay seventy five cents per person, just to walk across a mile long bridge over the Rio Grande, and into Mexico. Upon our return, we had to pay again, then show our birth certificates and driver’s licenses to the border patrol. Good thing we took ‘em, because there was no indication that they were required on the U.S. side when we went into Mexico. After June 1st, supposedly everyone will need a passport.

Salon de Rene Ciudad Acuna MexicoDuring our long walk over the bridge into Mexico, an old Mexican man was walking in front of us, carrying grocery bags. A guy in a pickup pulled over to offer him a ride into town. It took us a second to realize that he was also offering us a ride. The old guy got in, but we said “No gracias.” This was one of those situations in which we really wanted to believe in the best of humanity, but just couldn’t bring ourselves to take him up on the offer, with all of the borderlands violence we’ve heard about.

Was crossing over for the day worth it? Not really. We could’ve had the same experience in the nearest Texas ghetto. And like my Dad says, border towns aren’t the real Mexico. They’re so geared toward tourists that any trace of authenticity is gone.

Well, not everything. You’ll still find potholed streets, dirty air, crumbling sidewalks and hooker bars. But keep in mind that if you go, you’re going to get harassed beyond belief by aggressive storekeepers who are obviously hurting because of the U.S. recession.

Acuna Mexico Ladies BarAs far as the reported threats of violence in border towns, we never once felt like we were in any danger, but then again, we didn’t venture too far out of the fake touristy areas, or take rides with strangers.

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Se Vende Tecate Grande en Agua Prieta MexicoAfter leaving Slab City, it was a revelation to think that we’d been back in California since November. I couldn’t believe we’d been there for so long. But when you come from a big Mexican family like I do, it takes about that long to make the rounds and see everyone!

We blew through Arizona, because familiarity breeds contempt. I used to live there in the early ’90s, and I don’t know what it is about the Grand Canyon State, but I just don’t like it. Maybe that’s because when my Dad lived in Jerome (about 100 miles north of Phoenix) in the 1930s, he was forced to attend a segregated “Mexicans only” school while my grandfather worked as a miner.

Best pan dulce Agua Prieta MexicoHeaded east, we stopped in Douglas, Arizona along the Mexican border. On a whim, we parked our rig at the border crossing and walked into Mexico, just to be able to say we’ve now been to three countries in our rig.

The contrast between the U.S. side and the Mexican side is obvious. On our side, there’s shiny new strip malls and Wallyworld. On their side, just a half mile away, there are potholed streets and zero evidence of building codes.

We walked around, got some great pan dulces and a jugo de pina. Took some photos and felt sorry for some skinny Mexican dogs. Then we turned around, and walked back over. Just. Like. That. Our five dollar Mexican vacation was over in a couple of hours.

Agua Prieta Mexico Tienda de BotasUpon our return, I thought about how my family set down U.S. roots in the 1930s. Both sets of my Grandparents hopped the fence before “illegal immigration” was an issue. All they wanted was for their kids to have a better life, and we’ve managed to accomplish that, and then some.

Three generations later, there I was, returning to the Other Side like it was no big deal. That’s America for you.

Perro de Mexico en Agua Prieta

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Happy Jim Golfing Slab City Gopher FlatsBefore our Slab City experience we met up with the Vickers, who spend the Winter months far away from the icy cold of their Colorado ranch at Rancho Casa Blanca RV Resort in Indio, CA. We were passing through to catch Willie Nelson at Morongo Casino just a stone’s throw away … literally – Larry and Paulette picked us up from the parking lot where we were boondocking in their golf cart.

We reminisced about our summer workamping at the ranch, sipped cocktails, went swimming at one of their various club house pools, and enjoyed a quick nine holes of golf on the putting course outside their rig’s door. This pristine RV resort also boasts a full 18 hole course complete with hazards that include sand traps, a lake, and park model windows. But the manicured grass and level greens of Rancho Casa Blanca pale in comparison to the links at Gopher Flats in Slab City.

Gopher Flats Golf Course Slab CityWinter Rules always apply at Gopher Flats Country Club. This may sound surprising when you consider winter probably lasts less than a week here on the slabs near Niland, CA. But one look around will explain why “preferred lies” are accepted on this course.

This is a simple way of saying that golfers may improve their lies in certain areas of the course. But at Gopher Flats it means two things: 1. Players can feel free to re-place their ball if hindered by say, a sage brush or broken beer bottle, and 2. Blatant lies about one’s score are not just accepted, but expected.

Don did not smooth at Gopher Flats Golf CourseGopher Flats is a Bob Unden signature course. Designed and created by Bob and Nancy Unden, the course makes fine use of the barren terrain. If you can find it, you will notice each hole has a tee with the distance clearly marked.

Flags are in place on the browns – you really can’t call them greens – and the cups are 8″ wide, which makes up for the bumpy rock hardpan. But that’s why you’ll also find a piece of carpet on a rope near each flag. Players are required to smooth the “greens” or pay the consequences if they don’t.

Gopher Flats Golf Course Slab CityA few details make Gopher Flats shine above other RV golf resorts. For starters, the greens fees: Free! Yes, Gopher Flats is free, and open to the public 24/7 every day of the year. And not only scorecards and pencils are provided. Players have access to a wide selection of clubs at their disposal.

Sure, some of these club should have been disposed of long ago but what do you want for nothing? There are three bags, drivers and irons of all sizes, wedges and putters, both right and left handed. An ample supply of balls is also for the taking.

Gopher Flats Golf Course Slab CityEvery hole at Gopher Flats is a par 3, but when René and I played nine she shot a 59 to my 44. Do the math, and keep in mind that bit about preferred lies.

Later when we attempted an afternoon foursome with Flux and SkinnyChef, we only got through half of nine before calling it quits.

Perhaps it was the pending sunset with us a half mile from home in the middle of the desert, or perhpas it was all the Early Times, but a fun time was had by all nonetheless.

US Navy Laser Bombing Range Slab CityWhat makes Gopher Flats a must-play for any RV golfer, however, isn’t just the views, free equipment, or the beetle colonies living in the cups. It’s the fact that you can play with a front row seat to the U.S. Navy’s Chocolate Mountain bombing range.

Military helicopters can frequently be seen buzzing overhead and heard firing their big guns. Not knowing when the next fighter jet might fly by or another ground-thumping explosion might come in the distance adds excitment to every hole. And very rarely has anyone ever stumbled upon an unexploded ordnance.

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Joel tends box garden winter cropOne of the great things about meeting people online is you tend to immediately share something in common. Friendships are started based on a shared interest, whether it’s dogs, RVing, or whatever.

We met Joel and Ross online in 2006, when Jerry was diagnosed with cancer. Their Great Dane Moose was on the same path, and throughout the next two years, we became friends. Joel and Ross sounded like such nice people, and gave us an open invitation to stop by and visit them in Paso Robles, near San Luis Obispo, CA. “Be careful what you ask for,” we warned them, and showed up after leaving L.A.

What a fun surprise it was to learn we had other things in common besides our heroic dogs. Joel and Ross live on five rural acres, in a solar-powered house, and even drive an electric car. They have many animals, and a great little garden too. Their compound resembles what Jim and I envision for ourselves someday. Here’s a clip of Joel giving a tour of his gopher-proof greenhouse:

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The road less traveled keeps putting us in touch with amazing people we never would’ve met if we were stuck at home in a stick house. Here are just a few incredible people that we’ve hooked up with since January.

Rock on with Frankie, Kelly and Perry
This is Kelly and Perry, and Tripawd Frankie from North Hollywood. We met up with them to film Frankie for Jerry’s Tripawds site. Frankie is an amazing eleven year old senior dog who’s a perfect example of how age doesn’t have to slow a good dog down, even a three legged one!

Kelly and Perry are part of a kick-ass blues band called Kelly’s Lot. They tour all over the U.S. and Europe. If you get a chance, catch them live, or better yet, go buy their CDs now. If you like the blues and rockin’ bar music, you’ll love their band!

Michelle, Stephen and Sami: Creativity, Kindness and Hope
Michelle, Stephen and Sami live in Pasadena. We met them through Tripawds, and last year, we set up Sami and Jerry on a dog date. They are quite the creative family. Stephen is a landscape architect, and Michelle is an incredible artist whose work is sold on Etsy and Cafe Press. Buy her work now while it’s affordable, before she gets discovered!

As for Sami, she’s quite the Tripawd. She’s about fifteen years old and for over a year has continued to thrive despite being diagnosed with osteosarcoma, and losing a leg. Whenever any questions whether their dog is too old to be a tripawd, we always refer them to Sami’s story for inspawration and hope.

The Original Tripawd Heroes
Even though we’d never met them in person before, Ross and Joel are a big reason why our life is so different now. Back in 2006 when Jerry was diagnosed with cancer and our world was thrown into turmoil, it was their Great Dane Moose who convinced us that Jerry could have a great life on three legs. Joel had posted this YouTube video of Moose digging for gophers, and that’s all it took to convince us that if their beloved Moose could thrive after osteosarcoma and amputation, so could Jerry.

Jerry and Moose traveled down the cancer road together, and throughout it all, Joel and Ross were incredibly supportive and helpful to us. And as bittersweet as it was that neither Jerry nor Moose were there when we finally met our heroes, in spirit, Jerry and Moose were all around us

Meeting Rhodester and Coffeesister in Palm Springs

Drinking in Conversation with Dave and Dorian
Coffeesister and Rhodester in Palm Springs. We had a reunion with them almost a year after we first pulled into Palm Springs with Jerry, in March 2008. Dave and Dorian are two of the best storytellers and conversationalists, who truly understand why it’s more important to focus on the things that really matter in life…honesty, generosity, laughter and sincerity. They are two truly free souls, stuck in a world that demands too much from them.

Dave is a writer, actor and general comedian of sorts who writes one of the funniest blogs I know of. Dorian is also a writer whose thought-pondering, philosophical blog will inspire you to become a better human.

The Purcells at Slab City

The Purcells on Wheels
Sean and Lisa Purcell and kids Ian and Caitlin, a homeschoolin’, road-trippin family from Orlando Florida. Sean recently sold his share in a business he started, and they hit the road with their two kids in search of somewhere new to live. We talked online last year, met in person in Florida, and hooked up again recently at the Slabs.

Lisa hates trailer life, but she’s being a great sport about it while they make their way to the Pacific Northwest, where they think they want to live. We met up with them at the Slabs, which was a bold move for them, since 1) they’d never boondocked before, and 2), they are as far removed from the Slab City lifestyle as anyone can get. Still, they stayed an impressive four days and seemed to be quite relaxed by the time they left. See for yourself at Purcells On Wheels.

20090213w_kellyal01.jpgRamblin’ with The Bayfield Bunch
Kelly and Al, from Bayfield, Ontario Canada. These Canuks welcomed us with open arms on the beautiful ranch they are caretaking near Tombstone, Arizona. We originally “met” them online, after working with Kelly’s sister Becky while at Riverbend Hot Springs Resort, last year in New Mexico.

Kelly’s an American and Al’s a Canuk who’ve been part-time full-timers for a number of years now. They are quite the adventurous boondocking RVing couple who take their rig to some of the most remote parts of the Southwest, chasing down ghost towns and off-the-beaten-path attractions. They have a killer solar system on their rig (done by Solar Mike of Slab City), that we are super envious of. Check out their great blog with fantastic photos of their adventures at Bayfield Bunch.com.

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Get on the Bus with Skinny Chef and Flux
Last but not least, Skinny Chef and Flux Rostrum, two free thinking, independent media activists traveling North America in a veggie-oil powered Skoolie. Moving from political events to festivals to parades, Chef and Flux go about the world filming vignettes of America and seeking out the truth.

Our friend Gordon introduced them to us last year in New Orleans, and we’ve watched these two as they boldly traveled around the country covering everthing from the election to the Doo Dah Parade. We caught up with them at the Slabs, where Chef introduced me to the local vernacular, phrases like “gopher holes” and “shit tickets“, stuff I was completely naieve about. We’ll be hooking up with them again in March, when Chef returns to her home in Austin, and lets us park in her driveway so we can catch South By Southwest. Is that generous of her or what?

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Which way to Slab City at gun turret?Among RVers, no other camping area evokes such intense reactions as Slab City. People either love it, or hate it. There is no gray area among this 640 acre dismantled military base near the Salton Sea.

Made famous by its appearance in the movie “Into the Wild,” Slab City wasn’t on our radar until our friend Skinny Chef asked if we wanted to meet her there. Then coincidentally, I found this blog entry, by a young RVing couple we met back in South Carolina;

“The movie depicts Slab City as this really cool RV hippie community, where people of all ages hang out – peace, love, happiness, rock and roll, and all that. Well yesterday, we drove two hours to Slab City and nothing could be further from the truth.

Slab City is an RV slum, pure and simple. It’s actually really sad – people living in tents and abandon vehicles. There were even remnants of burned down RVs strewn all over the place. It’s amazing to think that people actually live this way in the US – and it’s only 80 miles from swanky Palm Springs.”

This intrigued me. Liz is a nice person and I like her a lot, but the two of us are quite different. I’m crunchy granola and like to keep things simple, while she’s a high flyin’ New Yorker who’s into manicures, and the glamourous life. Once I saw what she thought of Slab City, I figured if she hated it, I’d probably love it.

I was right.

Slab City: The Last Free Place

Low Road Slab City Loners On WheelsDo come here with an open mind if you plan to visit. Many people we know would be completely offended by the post-apocalyptic look of the place.

To come here requires someone who is willing to look beyond the surface, to scratch a little deeper at a situation to learn the real story.

What Slab City Is:

  • Free camping. It’s a spot of abandoned, state-owned land where hundreds of travelers from all over the world come to stay for free, some permanently, others just to ride out winter. Call us squatters, if you will, since nobody has “official” permission to be here.Off Grid Solar RV Boondocking at Slab City
  • Serious Boondocking. There are no facilities whatsoever: no electricity, water, or trash. Nothing. The closest dump station is 8 miles away.
  • Kinda trashy, in places. Yes, there is some garbage and abandoned RVs around. The state doesn’t care about this spot, and the closest city refuses to clean it up since residents don’t pay to be here. It’s up to campers to be responsible for taking trash to town, and like any neighborhood, some people are better about this than others.
  • Very Social. There is much to do and see here, including social clubs, a couple of concert stages, a library, an 18 hole golf course, a church, hot springs, and more. We’ve been to two potlucks, and seem to be doing something every night of the week. We’ve never been so active in one location before.

What Slab City Isn’t:

  • Lawless. Contrary to how the media portrays it, I don’t feel in any more in danger here than I do in most cities. Sure, there are some sketchy looking characters, but if you keep away from them, they’ll most likely keep away from you. The county sheriff makes regular runs through here, and Border Patrol is constantly driving through.Church of the Sub Genius Slab City Art Camp
  • Depressing. There is more creativity here than any tidy suburban neighborhood I’ve been to. Residents have contributed many hours of labor to build free amenities like the golf course (with free equipment!), concert stages, church, or the public shower down near the springs. I’m impressed that people would do so much with so little, in such an unforgiving desert environment. Now if they could only get it together to do something about the trash . . .
  • Mainstream. It’s as if someone took a sampling of every kind of ethnicity, personality type and mental disorder, and shipped them here. There are international travelers, old folks, musicians, fulltime Rvers, wandering travelers and offroad enthusiasts, all camped out in the same area as drifters, people struggling with addictions, mental illness and/or homelessness. Everyone seems to get along, following a live and let live attitude.

The desert scenery outside Slab City is beautiful, surrounded by a rugged mountain range. On most days, you can look east to the Chocolate Mountains, about 2 miles away, and watch the US Navy spend your tax dollars by practicing bombing runs and playing war games in the air. We took two hour bike rides without seeing another soul.

Slab City Community SignThe other day, Jim went to see Solar Mike, about our solar system. Mike asked Jim “How long are you staying?” Jim replied with “oh, a week or two.” Mike looked at Jim with a knowing look and chuckled… “Yeah, right.”

I think he could tell just by looking at us. The Slab City lifestyle is agreeing with us, and we’re going to find it hard to break camp this week.

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Readers, meet Eric Auckerman, and his fiancee, Julie Ackerman (seriously, Auckerman and Ackerman!). We recently had a great day with them on their boat in Newport Beach, CA. If you’re a regular here, Eric’s name might ring a bell . . .

Eric tends to write some thought-provoking essay comments(see #11), especially when it comes to our search for our perfect spot to live and work (see #5). And if anyone knows something about that topic, it’s him.

Jim and Eric used to work together in the Silicon Valley, back in the ’90s. Eric was a high-flying international salesman who led a hectic life bringing in the big bucks. Then one day, he’d had enough (along with what he thought was a heart attack).

Captain Eric Auckerman and First Mate JulieHe quit his job, flew to Hawaii for a sabbatical, and ended up staying. He bought a local screenprinting business and turned it into a worldwide enterprise. All while maintaining that classic laid-back island lifestyle.

After a few years, he met Julie, a successful business broker from Newport Beach. Eric sold the business, returned to the mainland, and Auckerman and Ackerman now enjoy the best of both worlds; they have a home-office from their beautiful home in Newport and run a successful business brokerage together; all while getting to enjoy a fabulously stylish, laid-back way of life on the Pacific.

It was great to see Eric looking happier with life than he ever has. For if anyone understands the search for the ultimate LiveWorkDream scenario, he does. Congratulations Eric and Julie, we are so glad you found it!

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My friends and I used to tell this joke when we were kids:

“Why do Mexicans make tamales for Christmas?

So we can have something to unwrap!”

Ok, that’s not really true, we were spoiled brats and did have a lot besides tamales to unwrap. Regardless, my family has made tamales every year since Mom and Dad were married in 1954. This past Christmas, Jim and I got to participate in the annual tamalada at Mom and Dad’s house, something we never had time to do before we hit the road.

I’m trying to capture the Agredano recipe, and put one of my custom books together that shows how to make them. But getting the recipe from Mom is a little tough.

Oh, just add a little of this, a little of that,” she says. She doesn’t measure anything. All I really know is that it’s the lard that gives them their flavor. But once a year, this vegetarian will look the other way, because these tamales are just so darn good!

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Just a quick update on the search for biodiesel.

Wasco California Oil Field RigsWhen we left California in June 2007, the cost of biodiesel was comparable to diesel fuel. Maybe a few cents a gallon more, but to me it was worth it to do my part in helping the planet.

However, since returing to the West Coast, we’ve had a harder time finding anything better than B5. Even back in Eureka where we first started filling our tank with it, locating an outlet was challenging.

Suddenly, not as many stations seem to be offering it anymore.

When we finally did pull into a station that had some, they were selling it at $4.00/gallon for B100. Almost twice as much as even the priciest diesel in San Francisco. We pulled out of that station faster than we pulled in.

It’s disappointing to see that biodiesel is becoming less of an option today. Someday in the future we’ll build our own stealth fueling station, but until then, it looks like nasty ol’ Number Two will going into our tank.

If you have any secret sources for finding biodiesel on the road, please let us know with a comment below!

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