Marking One's Spot

In my youth I'd hike across Grand Canyon on my way to the River of No Return wilderness in Idaho; it got the winter kinks out.

Last summer, perzackly 50 years later, I found the same backpack in an animal humane thrift store in Hailey, Idaho, not far from my former hangout. (I've always carried my sleeping bag in front stuffed under my shirt.)

Then, in November, when in Albuquerque, I found a tent. The guy had bought it for a trip to Everest Base Camp, but a motorcycle accident intervened. The Kelty Orb 2 was of similar quality to the one I used in my mid-years. (I didn't need no stinkin' tent in my youth.)

First the ground sheet

Here, at the Mount Wrightson Wilderness, I decided I was ready for an overnighter. But as I loaded up I grew increasingly dubious. The whiplash from the accident is still pretty bad and as I added and hefted the doubt came creeping. Eventually I decided to just walk around for a while saying Poohisms such as "Sing ho for a bear" and "We're off on an Exposition."


(More quotes from Pooh)

The Tent

Whipple Observatory sits atop the middle peak.

Sure enough, the exercise exacerbated the injury and the pain kept me awake most of the night.



Two days later I decided to set up the tent. This was my first time. A Teutonic wet-dream, it has enough zipperrz, shnaps und guylines to zahdistfy das Most ANAL! It Vas ein Wunderschon 2.5 hours.

 Flyed Und Guyed

 

"New" shorts.

(Diff frm pic at top of blog)

But when I left to go into town for water, I felt confident of having laid claim. Of course, the tent might be gone, but probably not. And he'd assured me the setup would get easier.

Update August 15, 2020. If EVER anyone offers you one of these tents...thank them politely and kick them in the groin. Although it DID sneer at 50 mph winds, setup is a nightmare and, I would suggest, impossible except under the most advantageous of conditions. Even THEN it takes close to an hour.

Further Out

It's interesting to note the lines of demarcation.

After attending the meeting of the Tucson Psychedelic Society, I camped for several days near Madera Canyon about 20 miles south of town. Like giant camo-fleas, the area was crawling with guys in green and brown in their side-by-sides. Though friendly enough, the blamming they engage in impinges, detracts even, on the enjoyment of my evening glass of wine.

So ah whupt out muh laptop an' fired up Garmin's Mapsource, the mapping software that comes with their maps, and found a spot further out.

The Mount Wrightson Wilderness has fairly limited access, but the road to Whipple Observatory offers some options. Campspots are few, keeping the noise levels low. There've been a few cars, but the road is narrow, winding, steep in places and there are rocks in the road surface. (Lions und Tigre und Barren!!)


There's even a little stream....

The observatory sits atop the peak on the right

Thank the gods for trepidation. The threat of a flat tire; the unavoidable oncoming vehicle ramming head-on; BANDITS! It keeps the hordes in their places.

Yesterday there was only one ATV. And he was putting along as if he had all day. And, in fact, it was late afternoon when he came putting back; the rancher, no doubt.

This morning there were two. They came and went at a brisk pace. I'm thinking it may be time to move.