Tacna Trials

Tacna Trials: April 9, 2013

Upon leaving Gila Bend, I had a long trek to Yuma, 116 miles away. I couldn’t make it in one day, so targeted the town of Tacna for a sleepover. My sister Katie warned us that Tacna is like the black hole that sucks her in every time she passes through it. She usually had car breakdowns, resulting in an unintentional visit. In fact, there is a single, ragged motel--The Chaparral Motel---with a single internet written review. It was written by someone who also had a car breakdown there. But, the writer gave the manager a thumbs up for being so nice, stating the mechanic was pretty helpful too. 

Now, the road to Yuma is pretty rural--not many places to stay between Gila Bend and Yuma. Dateland is about 30 miles from Tacna, but I wanted to get further than Dateland. So, off we went. Shannon stopped at Dateland and picked up, you guessed it, locally grown dates. They have several varieties, but she was being kind to our pocketbook and got the cheapest ones. Still wonderful. Dates are one of my most favorite foods. 

The day was windy and long and I arrived in Tacna to our tent. There is a gas station, farm workers, and the Chapparal motel off I-8. The motel was full of the farm workers, so the owner let us set up the tent behind the motel for free. It was a junkyard back there: tires, metal, broken down vehicles, abandoned mobile homes, and all sorts of stuff that a hoarder would love. Still, I was grateful that the gas station was close by. We were pretty exposed behind the motel, with people coming and going half the night. But, all in all, it was kinda fun. Mind you, I wouldn’t have wanted to spend the night there twice! But once was a novelty and lent itself to the excitement and craziness of the adventure. 

To combat the soreness in my legs, I did leg lifts and crunches and stretches for a good 40 minutes in the tent while Shannon was in a phone meeting in her car. Amazing how that helped. I was pretty whupped when I pulled into Tacna. Wind trials, you know.

The people at the gas station were friendly. In the morning, the lady at the counter was in a great mood and giving the local farm workers a run for their money with her teasing.  She and the man also working the counter gave me the low down on the ag activities there. Some miles from town, in fact, off and on since Dateland, I had noticed these desert bushes planted in rows! They were brown and dry looking, but definitely had been planted by human hands. They are jojoba bushes. I remembered in the 1970s how the jojoba nut and its oil were touted to be the cure-all for a number of maladies and to be the greatest snake oil for the skin! Well, these desert bushes are thorny, as most desert plants tend to be. And the jojoba nut is kinda small. The cash crop turned out to be so expensive to harvest, that the fields eventually were abandoned. Now, they are still growing, but wild--or at least untended. And unharvested. Sad, huh?  The lady at the counter used to pick the nuts years ago and still remembers the pain of being pricked by the sticky bushes. 

There are so many wonderful plants out there, and wonderful fruits and veggies, but it is pricey in our economy to plant, raise, and harvest them. Thus our fields are converted for cash crops like corn and soybeans. It’s all about economics. Until someone gets hurt.

Well, then, it’s still about economics. Lol.

The next morning--on to Yuma. I got on the Internet in the morning and snagged a room at the Shilo Inn Hotel. (Inn Hotel--is that redundant?). The ride to Yuma was not so many miles, but the wind was heftier than expected, so I was ready to be done! The Shilo is a great ole place, reasonably priced--perhaps because they have a pool, jacuzzi, sauna, and steam room--with none of the above working or available that day. But the washer and drier worked and I needed to wash our laundry. Shannon grabbed a carryout from an Oriental restaurant and we truly feasted that night to a shared styrofoam container stuffed to the brim, plus the salad she put together from our cooler contents. We happily munched away while watching Season Two, episodes 1&2, of Bomb Girls. BTW---this was filmed in Canada and was about the Canadian efforts--not the USA. It is just so similar to the USA stories that I missed the obvious. 

I slept past the alarm in the morning and didn’t get out of Yuma until 9:30. But, my goodness, what a fantastic day. We crossed into California today. It was like coming home. The Imperial Valley is known for agriculture, and I wasn’t disappointed. In fact, about 15 miles or so from El Centro, I noted a marked change in the air. It felt just a little heavier, not as dry. I wouldn’t call this area humid by any means, but the air definitely has more moisture in it than the Arizona desert. The only real wind I encountered today was experienced while cycling through the dune area---Henry David and I took a little sand on the chin, so to speak. I have got to clean him up again already. 

Just past the border patrol and truck check, about 10 miles from Yuma, I stopped at a little gas station--I think it is in Felicity. There is a friendly lady named Pam who works there. She and her husband lived in Montana for several years, then Nebraska. Pam’s mother needed her help and Pam and hubby were ready to move out of cold country. So, they packed up and moved to the little gas station on the hill just west of the border check. 

Pam enjoys starry nights in the desert, peace, and quiet. She enjoys the people who live in the RV park near the gas station. What gives her joy? Those star-filled nights.

The ride from Yuma to El Centro was a joy for me. It was inspiring to cross the border into California. Passing thru the sand dunes in east Imperial County was fascinating. There was a bit of a crosswind and the left side of my face was gritty in seconds. I could even feel the sand grinding between my molars! I popped over to a rest stop and “re-met” a man whom I had met at the Felicity gas station while chatting with Pam. At the rest stop, we had the opportunity to talk. He was originally from Mexico. He was a happy, cheerful man and told me he was a devout Christian. He was injured in a working accident---tore his right biceps muscle and damaged a few fingers. So, now he collects bottles and cans and lives out of his pick up truck. He said he is very skilled with landscaping and setting up sprinkler systems. What does he enjoy? His faith and just being alive. It was wonderful to meet someone who appears to be truly happy and who lives out of his truck. He has no demands of life; he has just decided to be happy. And this works for him. We can take a lesson from him.

We stayed in an RV park in El Centro. It was fantastic. We camped in our tent on the grass. There was plenty of hot water in the shower and, don’t get me started on the jacuzzi. Heavenly.

There was a grocery store nearby and they had Perrier by the liter. We drank a few. We are wild that way.