Sometimes our life is one long campout. This has been one of those weeks. We joined up with a small group of friends near Yuma, AZ. We were camped on the desert on the shores of a small backwater off of the Colorado River called Mittry Lake. We were almost roughing it. We had no electric, no running water, no cable TV, no cell phone and no internet. We did have sparkling clear skies and a full moon each night. We sang songs around the campfire, had pot luck meals and coyotes yelping right under our windows in the middle of the night.
Mittry Lake
March Update
I know! You haven’t heard from us for about two weeks and you are wondering if we drove off the end of the earth. Well no, we haven’t gotten to the end of the earth, but I am sure Gila Bend, Arizona can’t be too far from there. It is about half way between Tucson to Yuma and made a nice stop over. It is cheap, about $10, it’s windy and it is close to the freeway so it is somewhat noisy. It does have water and electric, so we are getting the water tank topped off and the batteries charged up. Tomorrow we will return to Mittry Lake. It is close to Yuma, on the Colorado River and we will be meeting several RV’ing friends there. It is also free, no water or electric and probably out of reach of the cell phone and inter-net. We will probably do a little canoeing and a little music around the campfire and a lot of talking. We heard from some friends that the mosquitoes are bad there this year, so we laid in a supply of Cutter.
On The Brazos
In Texas the Brazos River starts somewhere near Lubbock and flows into the Gulf of Mexico about 50 miles West of Galveston Texas. We visited the Brazos in Brazos Bend State Park about fifty miles south of Houston. Now Houston is the largest city in Texas so we carefully tiptoed around the edges of the city to get there. Brazos Bend is very rural and that was part of the attraction for us. What we found was bird-watching programs, nature walks, miles of trails and the George Observatory.
Hunkered Down:
We got as far as western Kansas and ran headlong into their first winter storm of the season. When we pulled into Colby, Kansas on Tuesday the weather was fair and warm. We had a nice bicycle ride around town to see the sights. We heard about a high wind advisory and intentionally chose a park over a Wal-Mart parking lot. About 9 p.m. the first gusts shook the coach like a rat terrier shaking a rag doll. We quickly retracted the two sliders and hunkered down for the blow.
Scrambled Bands
It has been a while since I sent out a blog. We have been doing Bluegrass music about every day. There are five festivals in January and February here in Southeast California and Southwest Arizona. We have just finished up the fourth festival, it is in Quartzsite. The highlight of the weekend for us was the band scramble. This is my fourth band scramble, and I know I have written about the others, but it is just so much fun that I have to tell you the story of this one too.
Porta-Potty Bluegrass
Here we are in Yuma Arizona. We are just a mile from the famous Yuma Arizona Territorial Prison, but that is a different story. Once again we are camped with a bunch of Bluegrass enthusiasts. Tonight after supper I heard the faint strum of guitar and banjo near the coach and I grabbed my guitar and headed out. What I found was two guys, a guitar and a banjo picker, standing over a Coleman lantern singing bluegrass right next to the porta-potty. Read More
2007 in Review
I guess I have been told. My daughter seems to think that I just live to create statistics, and indicated that she was waiting for the 2007 version.
Alaskans
We have now been in Alaska for six weeks now. Therefore I am about as poorly qualified as anyone to make some random observations about the state and its people.
Let’s start with the state. It is huge, but if you limit yourself to paved highways you don’t see much of it. When we get back to the Canadian border we will have driven about 2,000 miles inside Alaska and we will have traversed almost all of the major highways, several out and back for double credit. In the same breath I must say that we probably haven’t seen ten percent of this state. It would take a well founded boat and a whole summer to see the fjords of the panhandle of the state. Then it would take half a lifetime to hike the wild back country areas of the state.
Homes: Huge areas of the state have a permafrost condition in the soil. If a building is not properly constructed so as to allow the soil to remain frozen, the building slowly slumps into the ground. I was surprised to find out that large areas do not have access to good water. You see a lot of pickups with a huge polyethylene tank in the back. Many homes have to truck in their water. What I call the “California Style Home” has not caught on here in rural Alaska. Log homes are very popular and considerably smaller that we of the lower 48 consider a bare minimum. You don’t actually see many of the homes along the road. You see a corridor of trees with drives that dive back into the timber every quarter mile or so. I am told that when you fly over these homesteads, each drive opens up into a nice little clearing with a home and several out buildings.
Cars: I expected to see a lot of “Cowboy Cadillacs” up here in this “bigger than Texas” state. Yes there are lots of big new one ton duallies with shiney chrome and four doors. They all have out-of-state licenses on them too. The ones with Alaska plates are older Ford F-100′s with a crumpled fender, rusted out rocker panels and either a water tank or fishing gear in back. Mostly you see the resident Alaskans driving the same cars you see in the rest of the states, usually a few years old. They all have two or three electrical plugs dangling out of the grill in front. The most popular paint job is mottled rust. Quads, four wheelers, ATV’s, ORV’s; what ever you call them are every where. There is a little snaky pair of tracks alongside every road we have traveled. People go everywhere on them. The crowning moment came when we were camped at Pippin Lake along the Richardson Highway. A family of five towed a Ski-Doo up on a trailer and launched it by our boondock camp. The oldest child was perhaps eight and he was riding his own miniature dirt bike and the two younger kids were sandwiched between dad and mom on the four-wheeler. They launched and put the kids into jackets and all piled on the ski-doo and off they went. The older boy was hanging on to his mom and standing on the back lip of the hull. Once the snow starts flying I expect the snow machines we see parked under tarps become the chief mode of transportation for the short haul trips.
Airplanes: There are unimproved landing strips everywhere. Half a dozen little old tail-draggers are hunkered down alongside each strip. Many of these have huge STOL wings with down-curved tips and oversized low pressure “tundra tires” on them. Everyone is a bush pilot around here, and I understand that Alaska has a rather high “incident rate” in their general aviation population. Indeed the FAA statistics for 2003 indicate a rate of incidents that is about three times the national average. There has been a focused safety program to lower that rate and in 2004 the incident rate dropped to only twice the national average. In all fairness it is a big state and many people fly here.
The People: We found an acoustic music festival in a small town called Kenny Lake. Up till then we were mostly on the standard tourist circuit; Denali National Park, Kenai Peninsula, halibut fishing, glacier gazing, museums and on and on. We had a unique opportunity to get to know the “down home people,” of Kenny Lake, Alaska. Don’t try to find it on a map. It is a group of loosely grouped homesteads along the Edgerton Highway that leads into Wrangle National Park and Preserve. This is the famous Copper River Valley of Alaska. We attended “The Music Festival Between the Ranges.” People arrived in cars, pickups and four-wheelers. Camped in vans, tents or just laid out in sleeping bags. We were by far the biggest rig around and the only “tourists” there. The bands were all Copper River Valley locals or Anchorage based. The music was “acoustic” but there was some flexibility there. The Piano was electronic and the base was electric. The genera were eclectic and ranged from rock and roll, to folk, jazz, classical and bluegrass. Maximum attendance ranged from 100 to perhaps 150, and at least a third of them were participating musicians. The people ranged from bearded guys with canvas coveralls at one extreme to some young gals dressed in beads and bangles with filmy semitransparent dresses and a thong with a cartridge belt full of bullets to hold it all together.
We have heard many testimonials from people we meet who claim to have visited a few years ago and just fell in love with this country and stayed.
The motto on their license plates is “The Last Frontier.” If you like the idea of having your neighbors at arm’s length, love hunting and fishing and all types of outdoor sports, then just maybe you should look this state over. You might want to take a peek in January before you make the big plunge. We have heard that 20 below is kind-a refreshing after a few days at 40 below with 20 mile winds.
We are now on our way to visit Haines, Skagway and Juneau as we start working our way back to the lower 48.
Bye from Gary, Judy, Jack, Sonja, Al and Audrey in Alaska.

Typical Bush Plane, STOL Super Cub

- Pickup Band – Mike, Doug, Mary, ???,
Bob and Mike, Plus Daisey
The Great White North
We are now north of Dawson Creek and officially on the Alaska Highway. We have come about a thousand miles into Canada and tonight we are staying in Pink Mountain, British Columbia. Pink Mountain is a small outpost in a sea of trees. We are thinking it is probably named for its most famous home town band, Pink Flyod. They were a popular band in the early 40′s. Consisted of a rhythm guitar a kazoo and a wash tub bass. We saw a movie at Dawson Creek about building this road. Read More
Out of the Blue
Blue: as in Blue Moon, Bluegrass and Blue Sky. As I write this there is Bluegrass music in my ears and the brilliant blue sky is overhead. We are in the community of Goldendale Washington, and they have pulled out all of the stops. We are attending the first, perhaps first annual, Blue Moon, Bluegrass Camp and Jam Festival. Read More