Then I saw an unofficial trail heading up into the woods and figured something interesting much be up there. I, of course, was hoping for a hot spring! So we trudged up the hill and soon the trail petered out. While standing around looking for why the trail existed I looked up and could see an ancient cliff dwelling….very subtle and built into the side of the red rock hill. We were both in shorts and couldn’t bush whack our way down into a canyon to get to the other side of the mountain to climb up the rocks. So I had to be content with just taking pictures of it.

Cliff Dwellings(?) in the Ancha Sierra Wilderness

Dwellings or Rock Formations?

Then we drove over a real rocky and bumpy dirt road, about 12 miles, and were shocked to see a fairly large river crossing the road and cascading over rocks on its way to the lake. We can’t pass up a dip in a river and decided we would find a place to get into it. While deciding where to get into the river we ran into a man who was looking for his young daughters, age 8 and 10. They had wandered off and he couldn’t find them. Mike and I offered to help him look for them so Mike headed up river and I went and took off my sandals and put on my hiking boots. I was trying to catch up with Mike-walking next to this fairly large river bubbling over rocks and I heard him holler that he found the girls.

That’s when I heard hissing and saw movement out of the corner of my eye. I looked down at my feet just in time to see a rattlesnake’s head darting away from my boot and coil up inches away from my feet. I jumped four feet straight into the air and screamed, “Mike! Snake! I think I just peeed myself!” Mike came running over and wanted to see the snake. So did the Dad. (Never mind the shrieking middle-aged woman with wet-ish pants hyped up on adrenalin.) The conclusion was that the snake was molting and probably felt very vulnerable. Which is why he either struck without rattling or I couldn’t hear the rattling because of the river. Nonetheless I was shaking. The snake had a fairly large rattle and the tail was black and white striped. Someone said it was probably a coon-tail rattler.

But I wasn’t too terrified, I guess, because I continued to the swimming hole in the river and got a swim in. Naked. Without my hiking boots. But I was sure watchful for snakes in and out of the water.

Embee swimming in Salome Creek

So I am alive and none the worse for wear. But I will, hopefully, remember to watch carefully in rocky areas. My Mom asked if we killed the snake…but we didn’t. He was just doing what snakes do. He eventually slithered off to where he belonged.

We were tucked quite cozily next to Lake Arivaca which you get to by traveling 10 miles on a very curvey and pot-holed road to a 2.3 mile dirt road which is very curvey and also very bumpy and full of pot holes. Embee decided to check out why it looked like the tongue was bowing upward. Well, he found out why. Both sides of the frame just aft of the fiberglass body had cracks in them almost all the way through. And along the top. Yikes! This couldn’t have been found when we were in Yuma–of course not. Life can’t be that easy, can it???

So we repacked the weight and redistributed the heavy items so there was as little weight as possible on the tongue. And then we crept at a burro’s pace down the dirt road. 2.3 miles took us over half an hour. Then the paved road was still way bumpy. But we made it back to Arivaca with my knuckles white as I gripped the steering wheel driving forward while looking in my rear view mirror the whole way.

Arivaca is not a large town. Well, I wouldn’t call it a town of much size. But the people there are very nice! Embee, being the gregarious guy that he is, saw two guys standing in front of a Taco Truck and made me pull over. He saunters over to these good ole boys and asks them if there were any welders in town. They said, yep, sure are, but you have to catch them while they’re sober. Ok…not a good start to find a welder close by. But they did point us in the direction of Green Valley and a good guy with an even greater auto shop that took our Burro under their wing and are attempting to weld it back together.

This is where I give a huge Shout Out to Johnnie Lake and his Gasoline Alley repair shop in Green Valley. We pulled in with the Burro and soon there were two guys crawling under the trailer and Johnnie standing there bouncing ideas back and forth to to find the best way to fix Archie. We soon decided they were the guys to fix our woes. Herman (or so the name on his shirt said) was chomping at the bit to find a solution to the cracked frame. Come to find out Herman’s real name was Ward…he was only wearing The Herman shirt.

Ward and Embee at Gasoline Alley

So, while chatting with Herman, and sharing my obsession with vintage trailers he pointed me to a shop just around the corner that had a vintage Airstream Bambi for sale. I skipped down the alley thinking…oh boy oh boy oh boy. If I can buy this baby I would be in 7th Heaven!! Well, I could buy that baby if I had $23,500 smackeroos in my pocket. Which I don’t. So we just drooled over it and coveted it. I guess it was restored by Ken Faber and I have to say he did a fabulous job. This 16 footer had a bathroom/shower combo as well as a 3-burner stovetop, a dometic refrigerator, and a sweet sink. Someday I hope to get my hands on one of these to restore…..dreaming dreaming dreaming.

So tonight Embee and I are snugged into the Best Western in Green Valley sleeping in real beds and taking real hot showers. I think I’m going to take two tonight, and another two in the morning. Might as well get them in the bank for the next few weeks without them.

There were fabulous hikes to be had — which we hiked.

Embee and his buddy, Phil, on top of the peak by Bull Pasture. You can see Mexico behind them!

Bull Pasture Hike

Also on the hike to Bull Pasture in Organ Pipe National Monument

One thing that is so endearing about southwest Arizona is the abundance of Saguaro cactus. It is so easy to anthropomorphize them. This one just shouted “Uh oh” to me.

Oh no!

The Border Patrol is extremely active in the southern part of Arizona. They have checkpoints set up regularly on all major and minor roads. We passed through them on the interstate and on roads running north and south from the border, or east and west connecting any road from the border. After the third or fourth border check point I started to feel a little bit like a nervous criminal. But then I lightened up and started joking around with the Border Agents. I even got to know one cute one named Ortiz as I passed through his checkpoint on my way to get more ice.

Illegal immigration is a hot topic in Arizona and people land on both sides of the fence (no pun intended). We spent one night on the Buenos Aries National Wildlife Refuge and learned that there are humanitarian water tanks set up for the immigrants to keep them from dying of thirst. And then two miles down the road you see the Border Patrol agents sitting on the side of the road with scopes looking for movement to take any illegals into custody. While we haven’t seen any illegals we have seen a number of flashlights on the horizon flickering and bouncing along. Although I don’t feel that they pose any danger, it is still quite a disconcerting situation. The Border Patrol agents tell us that we are in safe places and not to worry about running into any. Mostly they try to hide and not be seen as they make their way into the land of plenty.

Speaking of the land of plenty, I have some advice. We went into Lukeville which was south of our campground and right on the border. There was a restaurant there and we thought we would take a break from my camp cooking. The name of the restaurant was the same as the gas station: “GasTrak Restaurant/Cafe”. Note to everyone: It might be safest NOT to eat at a restaurant that has the name “Gas” in its name. Also, if you do decide to eat there–don’t order the Carne Asada Burro. I think it really was Burro meat. But only if Burro meat is green and slimey and chewy and gamey.

Say Goodnight, Gracey.

But while in Rome–

The hat vendor timed his assault well. He waited until Embee was one margarita down and then went in for the sell. I think he looks quite handsome.

Lunch (and the Rita) was had at a great patio restaurant within an inner courtyard. “Paraiso”

Lunch in Los Algadones

I have no idea who the people are in this photo but they looked festive under the umbrella!

Then I wanted to just get a picture of the “Taco” sign…but the focal point of this picture does not say “Taco”.

Tacos in Los Algadones

So, if you visit Yuma, Arizona you must go south of the border and visit this sweet little town. They absolutely cater to the Snow Bird crowd and it is a very clean, safe town.

I’m hoping I get a tooth ache soon so I can return with greater purpose.

The night eas exquisite with the close to full moon and perfect temperature. Add a lovely campfire and it was just this side of heaven.

We figured we could stay for days here…..and then the wind picked up. And up. And up even more. The winds were so strong that it blew the tire chalk out from under the tire. And the rug ended up in the far away wash. The winds blew so ferociously that I truly was afraid the trailer would tip over. Not much sleep was had by either of us that night.

Oh well. Time to head now to the Organ Pipe National Monument to meet a friend visiting from Alaska.

We arrived and the burros immediately surrounded our little trailer and welcomed their kin.

Even though the signs said these were wild burros they were sure friendly. This one felt right at home.

We weren’t even at a stop when this guy came looking for food.

How close can I get? Is that camera edible?

Now we are off to Oatman for even warmer weather….we hope!

Spending two months (or more!) in a space smaller than most SUV’s can be challenging. But we have survived two seasons of the south in a space 6′ x 10′. Here’s to another season coming up soon!

Embee and I are both feeling the need to first visit family…….and then the trek south will begin!

Hopefully our list of required equipment will be a lot less than what we took along on our Missouri Breaks canoe trip. We shouldn’t need more than a couple of comfy outdoor chairs, a BBQ, and an ice chest full of cold beer.

The countdown begins…

This post has absolutely Nothing Whatsoever to do with camping or traveling around Montana. That is because winter arrived here last night. And tonight the forecast is for a low of 21. I was walking around our local park ruminating on the fact that BAM summer is over. 78 degrees yesterday, tonight 21.

I started feeling sorry for all the lovely flowers that were still in their heyday sitting fat, dumb, and happy on their chlorophyll filled stems of green. By tomorrow morning they will all be frozen pops of curdled colors. So I did what any self-respecting middle-aged woman would do. I copped a few into a bag. What I mean is I snipped some posies with an idea to capture their colors for the future.

About 15 years ago my crafty mother told me about something called “flower pounding” where you take flower petals, flatten them into a design on some wax paper, cover the design with canvas or muslin, and then beat the living daylights out of them with a hammer. Surprisingly enough, this works like a charm and you end up with some very lovely watercolor looking floral designs.

So since the freezing temperatures will keep me out of the Burro for a while I thought I’d do a little step-by-step post on this floral preservation technique.

First, assemble the following items:

Hard surface (wood or concrete) to hammer onto (not your mother’s antique oak table)

Hammer

Fabric (whatever 100% cotton fabric you want the design to be on. Canvas or muslin works well.)

Wax paper

Colorful flowers and green leaves

Masking tape

Iron

Cut wax paper to a size large enough for your design. I used 8” 100% cotton muslin since I intend on using these in a quilted wall hanging.  Tape it down to your hard surface.

Place your flower petals and green leaves in a design you like.

Carefully and gently lay the fabric over top of your flower petals, taking care not to move the petals accidentally. Tape the fabric down to the board also.

Holding part of the fabric with one hand to keep the petals from shifting and start hammering with the other. Try to hammer as flat as possible if you want your flowers to look full. Hammer more on the edge of the hammer to make a more artistic impression. Practice and play with your techniques to see what you like. Count on your first few tries to just be a trial and not perfect or a master piece.

Once the floral prints have dried, iron on cotton setting on each side of the cotton for 2 to 5 minutes to help set the color. I also then rinse the prints in cold water with vinegar to help set the color.

There you have it. A way to preserve the Montana summers—even when it’s 21 degrees outside. Run, don’t walk, to your local park (or your backyard if you are a gardener) and pick flowers before Old Man Winter gets them first!