Tuesday, December 10, 2019

Thanksgiving #41 Camping...in a row

41 camping Thanksgivings in a row...ah but who's counting, besides me? Personally I've been camping at Thanksgiving every year since I was 19, 1973, and discovered the Anza Borrego Desert in southern California on dirt bikes. Lynn and I started with Thanksgiving in 1979 before we were married in February of 1980. In those days I had a Bronco and a tent. We dug a pit and cooked game hens buried in the coals for Thanksgiving. Moved on a few years later to a truck and camper, then to a motor home and 2007 back to a truck and camper. Funny how that worked out. And somewhere down the line maybe a tent again. Well, the committee chairwoman says no way José, no tent. She was intents when she said that too. And yes, I know, thanks.
Going to Southern Utah to run around in the Polaris side by side, the weather had a high chance of rain...and mud. Switching it up we headed to Southern Idaho instead and the City of Rocks. The forecast there was for snow and I just knew we'd be alone, the only good reason I have to stay in a campground, alone.
It ends up we were on the California Trail but I had no idea. Seems to me the California Trail ought to be in...California. Good thing I'm not in charge of naming trails or leading pioneers to California, personally I'd take I-80 if it was summer or I-40 if winter. But on this trail we drove by a rock with many mini names of those early pioneers as well as a few stragglers. They added their names to this rock using axle grease from the wagons. Trust me, there's no Home Depot close to get some spray paint from.

Geez I didn't know I liked icicles so much.

Not a lot of snow but more to come, in manageable amounts.

Sorry, too many snow pictures coming on. Put on your long johns.
Or go to the beach

Home for a few nights, not a soul around.

A walk was taken so dogs could get their yaya's out. We call  her "Snowplow", because she is.
This little dog has the heart of a sled dog, loves the snow and won't let anything stop her.

Trudging across the tundra, mile after mile, in search of St. Alphonso's pancake breakfast. 
My favorite line from a Frank Zappa song. And watch out for that yellow snow.

Clear skies at morning, snowshoers take warning, gonna be a busy day. Besides, it was Thanksgiving Day.

Having a camper with amenities makes winter camping so much more fun.
Having a wife that likes to cook in a camper makes winter camping so much more fun.

Snowshoeing the backcountry makes winter camping so much more fun. Ok that's enough. Oh but it was fun.

My right knee will get replaced this winter/spring I hope, so I'm not so wobbleleknockered when I walk, my right foot wanting to roll to the outside terribly. If I make it that long. Otherwise I'll have Lil Bailey pulling me on a sled.

Back to the camper in time to read a bit, it was a balmy 30º. 

Thanksgiving while camping, our 41st time. 

Clouds were up the next morning. Funny how after 22 years working outside in Phoenix sun I love cloudy days. Cold cloudy days

A last snowshoe was taken, or should I say a last snowplow was taken.

The truck was trying to get a cold.

The dogaloos weren't quite ready to leave, they never are.

Getting home it was nice to see we had ice that never melted, even inside the truck, and was ready to take a shower under a stream of margaritas.

That's it, too many pictures of one place but never too much fun. Merry Christmas from Lynn & Dave...