Back Where I belong

 I moved from the chaos of PIR a couple weeks ago...

*Sunrise over Phoenix International Speedway*

... through the congestion and heat of Phoenix, and I consider 90 degrees in March to be HEAT! ;) ... Yesterday We rolled just a bit over 70 miles north to find the sort of country where I fit.

Thanks to that lil' bit of electronic wizardry, Google maps/earth... I had the camp we found... already found 'fore we left Phoenix! Google makes some blunders, and has gotten a mite arrogant of late... but... it still does have some things that are good and useful... for an RV Boondocking gypsy cowboy biker!

In that short mileage we moved, which makes for a pretty easy moving day :) you climb nearly 3000 feet in elevation getting back up around 4000 feet altitude. That cuts the temps nearly 20 degrees... and better yet... it takes you back out into a place where you can breathe some of that brand new air that ain't been used yet!

*Looking east from our new camp South of Camp Verde*

For some it's a barren country... which I have never understood. For me... land filled with 7-11's, checker auto's and rows of houses twelve feet apart is the barren land.

Spring is just coming here. The cottonwoods are just starting to fill out in the creek bottom behind our camp.

Have you ever dove deep into a pretty deep pool? Or had seven of your drunken friends sitting on your chest? ... and you couldn't breathe? ... and when they finally climbed off, how sweet and fresh the air you sucked into your lungs seemed?

That's exactly how I feel after every excursion down in the settlements. Once I fight my way back out here... and that pressure, that inability to catch a breath is gone. The breeze is sweet and scented with the trees and brush... and sometimes the mist of a waterfall...

... rather than carrying the squall of neighborhood dogs, sirens, police helicopters, drag racing hot rods, and having your vision cut short by walls, fences and hemmed in by street after road after sidewalk.

I suppose a fella needs those things to remind himself once in a while just how precious this Far Country is.

So from our camp along this unnamed lil' drainage...
to the far blue mountains...

I'll count my lucky stars I had the good sense to drop my tools and RUN! :)

Come the end of the week I'll ride my Raider from this camp... back into the settlements to the south, to finish up some stop gap dental patchwork...

and then... with a view of the eastern fringe of Prescott National Forest in our rear view mirror...

*From our camp in the Prescott National Forest*

We'll start slowly moving north on our annual migration.

Back in Far Country
Brian