I like to publish photos, especially for my readers who “skim” my posts. But tonight, the essence of our day is not available in pictures. Skimmers all: hit the delete key, this one is just words.

A traveling day is not note-worthy, and we simply droned along the highways and collected the necessary fuel at appropriate stops. Reaching the eastern end of the Mojave Preserve, we found ourselves in unknown territory. It appeared that we could navigate up Goffs road, and then look for a camp in the eastern span – but nothing is certain.

We exited I-40 at Goff’s Road and worked up toward the Lanfair Valley road, where we turned off. We were about 10 miles north of I-40 and driving north-westward into the depths of the Preserve. There were no mapped camps, but we knew that many never made it into any documentation. As we traveled further and further away from any connection to the highway and “civilization”, the day waned and we wondered how we would spend the night. A few false attempts to find a camp put us right back on the road, rattling across the washboard deeper into the isolation of the desert. We wondered if we would have to back-track to find a decent camp before dark.

Finally, rolling across the top of a knoll, we spotted a side road-spur and some camp-fire rings, sure evidence of a decent spot to stay. In fact, it turned out way more than decent. We found ourselves on an elevated rise, with nice views in all directions, and several flat areas to settle in for a camp. Picking a nice one, we stopped and leveled out, set up the BBQ and started to enjoy the desert. I’ve inserted a Bing map (not Google) because this blog software supports it. Hopefully you can zoom and see where we actually are camped. If not, try using Google maps or Earth and go to 35.03.51 / 115.10.10 coordinates.

We hiked a bit, exploring a dry wash and surrounding geology – – then wandered back to camp while watching the cottontails and jackrabbits scurry out of our way.

As the day waned, we sat in our camp chairs and listened to the coyote gangs yip and howl at each other in defense of territories invisible to us humans. There is something deeply special, magical even, to watch the sun fade away and hear the desert citizens talk to each other in the gathering twilight. The night starts to take over from the day.

The desert silence becomes all-consuming. Daytime winds have departed for other locales, and the sky is clear and dark. A three-quarter moon has taken over from the fleeting sun, assumed its duties, and is illuminating the landscape in pale gray/white. Daytime temps in the 70’s have lunged for the cellar, and at 9PM it is heading below 50 as the clear sky radiates the heat of the day up into infinite space.

Inside Howie, we are beyond comfortable. With our new solar-panel configuration, we can draw on our batteries for anything we please – lights, heat, TV, whatever – knowing that the next day’s sun will fully re-charge our system before we even have had our lunch. We eat dinner, sip wine, make some notes, and just generally enjoy the waning day.

Tomorrow, we have our choices: hang around camp and relax, taking in the desert’s peace; boogie off in Ralph to explore the surrounds; hike up the nearby hills to recon the plants and animals with whom we share the desert; snoop the modest Internet linkage to see what’s happening in the “real” world; or any combination of these.

I’m sure we’ll think of something…..