Well, Organ Pipe was a total win. The nighttime astronomy program was really well done, and there was a sweet telescope set up to check out stars, nebulas and planets. While the hikes, outreach, and campground was perfect, the shower was horridly hilarious. Alright, imagine you walk into the bathroom that has one shower and one toilet. You take the shower of course… There’s a sticker that reads something like, “solar water heating can cause serious skin burns, use at your own risk.” Cool. I love the potential for face disfiguring water. Sign me the fuck up. But if you remember from the last blog entry, I still smell like a dumpster fire, so I’m going to try my odds.
It’s one of those showers like you’re at the beach, and you have to push in a metal button on the wall to make water come out. As I press it, I shit you not, it was identical to how a pressure washer looks, feels, and sounds. I think this may actually just be a pressure washer. As I stand there, naked and terrified, I realize that the water is stupid cold. Awesome. On top of this, the spray is so overpowering that everything I brought into the shower (towel, clothes, toiletry bag) is soaked. So, I take the worst shower ever. Buy hey at least I’m clean right??
Well, the next morning I decided to walk over to the visitor center again and take more time checking it out. And guess what?? They have a population of Quitobaquito pupfish there!! Of course I eye googled them for way too long, before realizing that I should probably get going to my next destination. I need to be in San Diego by Monday, as I promised my sister I’d watch her cat. More on that in a moment.
As I head North from Organ Pipe, I know I’ll hit more Border Patrol checkpoints. I saw them on my way down to the park. At this very moment, I have passed through 8 checkpoints. You heard that right, 8. They have all been super nice and easy to pass through, so no complaints! I decide to try and get to Yuma, AZ which is only a few hours away. I have no idea what’s there or where I’ll stay, but I’m sure I’ll figure it out. As I get closer to Yuma, I realize that my phone is not picking up any cellular data, which is odd. I suppose AT&T is not ideal in this area. As I get into civilization again, I pull up at a Starbucks, order a hot cup of black coffee, and begin my research/sweating extravaganza. It’s 95 out. Why am I drinking hot coffee??
In Yuma, I am faced with the same RV dilemma I had is Tuscon. There are “RV Resorts” everywhere for 55+ snowbirds from Michigan and Canada, but no place for anyone under the age of 40. I decide that these people are just pissed to be old, and don’t want to be around youth. I can see saying “no kids” allowed. Shit I would preferentially pick a spot that didn’t allow children under 18. But this feels straight up like age discrimination. As I realize my options are limited, I find another BLM free campground right over the California border. Another beautiful, toilet-less dirt lot. It shall do.
So now I’m in Starbucks in Yuma, googling “what the fuck do people do in Yuma” when I start to see a common thread. Everything talks about visiting Yuma Territorial Prison State Historic Park. I pop in and decide to look around. Opening its doors in 1876, this was a shitty prison to be in. It’s completely carved out of rock, which the inmates did. They created their own cells, own solitary confinement areas, built their own infrastructure, everything. It was always hot as balls, and had many outbreaks of bedbugs, tuberculosis, snake bites, you name it. Lots of men died. Women were also held here, but no women died while imprisoned here.
Solitary confinement 
6 inmates per cell
On top of being able to walk around the old prison, there is an awesome museum that has tons of artifacts. They also are showing many movies that used this prison as a movie set. Definitely worth the $8. While I’m there, a guy working there starts talking to me about US soccer (I have my jersey on). I ask him where I should kill some time and he recommends the Prison Hill Brewery downtown. Sold! I drive a few minutes there to find a an awesome spot with great food and awesome beer.
After eating the first grouping of vegetables in a week, I head west to find my campsite. It’s a dirt lot right outside the Imperial Sand Dunes Recreation Area. Not much to do except read the Kindle and wait for dark. It’s a bit unnerving, but I remember that my trusty Peregrine Falcon/Peacock hybrid protector will Halt all Satans. I even ran into this amazing chalk art to prove that point.
I wake up early and head to San Diego. Laura is going to a meeting in Las Vegas, and is open to letting me crash at her house if I watch Stewie, her cat. Being tired and desperately in need of washing some clothes I gladly decide to stay a week in San Diego.
Just a few words about my sister and Stewie… When my sister decided to get a cat, she wanted to save a life of the un-adoptable, an older cat that had minimal chances of finding a home. So what did she do? She found the oldest, greasiest, most apt to throw up cat she could find and brought him home. Stewie is a hot mess, but is a huge lover. He is very happy to have me here, and the feeling is reciprocated. Right now I’m writing, drinking a beer, and talking to this cat like it’s a legit person. I’ve been alone awhile.
Hoping to hit up Anza Borrego SP later this week, as well as plan for the next few weeks of travel.