Daily observations of my simple life.

Speaking of neighbors.

I'd just come out of the motorhome to enjoy the fresh new day. Grabbing an orange I began to peel and turn in a circle gazing at all the glorious horizon.  On one of my turns I spotted two peoples coming down the dirt road towards me. Once close I called out, " You going to sit a spell?"  So Dorothy and Allen walked over to the campsite while I went in for some of those handy camping folding chairs. Once seated we began exchanging information. It had been some months since I had talked to them. I remember the first time I met them. I had driven up to the mountain property and discovered down the next block of dirt road were two motorhomes parked. On my daily walk I stopped by, calling a greeting to them. They were sitting by the fire with a coffee pot on . The water trailer carrying their big water tank was also serving as a kitchen table. They told me they were from Montana and had bought these two lots a few years back when they decided to make it their home. Dorothy sat making peanut butter and jelly sandwiches while we exchanged stories about the desert. They liked to talk about rattlesnakes and crazy bulls who crashed through their homesite with careless abandon and ill will. They had stories of squaters who got run off and Dorothy and I talked about desert plants.

My first day there, the day  before ,I was again outdoors having a gratefruit when a fellow came down the road on an ATV. It was one of those sharp ones that is all outfitted for hunting with a wench on the front, a gun carrier and a large metal basket on the back. As he slowed down and pulled up I step out to greet him. I commented on his fine machine and we exchanged first names. He told me what lot was his, the one up beyond Dorothy and Allens with the three big truck trailers , motorhome and truck tractor. He explained he had moved up permanent. Just a short visit and then through out the day he passed up and down the road like he was checking on things. I started wondering what those big trailers were for and in the most macabre mindset I began seeing that Atv and those trailers as weapons of a madman. Why he could just wrap me up with that pully wench thing and drag me to his truck trailers and then gruesomely murder me after torture, cut my body up in little pieces and no one would know. Shiver. Even so I went out for my long afternoon preamble exploring old and new campsites to see what's new.

The man who has set up camp just behind my lot stays to himself and seems to get some kind of delight out of peeing outside when I'm gazing at the horizon. He has never greeted me and the morning of the first day he took off and spent the day elsewhere.

I hadn't seen any stirring at Dorothy and Allens place so I thought I was alone with old Dave and his possible ill intent.  It was very apparent that a newly placed trailer two lots over from me was to be a permanent fixture . It was quiet that first day except for Dave.

After dinner and a fire with a glass of wine and awesome sunset, I turned in. Just asleep I was awakened by several cars coming down the road. Two turned in at the lot just down from me and it wasn't too  long  before the fellow behind me pulled into his place with lights. What a change. A couple years ago I camped there and I didn't see a soul for a week.  Sure enough one showed up just at the same time as I started a nice private outdoor shower.  Along came a pickup and I dashed naked into the motorhome. I later met the fellow at the swapmeet and we both grinned sheepishly.

So now next morning Dorothy and Allen show up and we discuss the neighbors. Old dave is ok, a nice guy, nothing to worry about, I'm told. Fellow next door is a Dr., an osteopath, they call him Doc. Fellow behind me is odd, has threatened to shoot someone who drove by his place. Then the conversation went to demented Dave and airplane Dave. I had seen demented Dave in my explorations. He gave me the impression he didn't want to be bothered but he likes to keep his place nice and tidy. I was told he had been hit in the head by a piece of metal. Airplane Dave lived up closer to the mountain in an underground house. I had been by it several times because it's cool. He has a nice spread there with a well, an older hummer, and an airplane. He flies in and out to some coastal area where he has another place. One of the bull stories was about how airplane Dave planted a lot of olive trees and the raging bull got in there and tore all the trees out. Dave was pretty unhappy with that old bull and then I was told that that old bull showed up with half his face tore off. They haven't seen the old bull since.

Down the road there's the couple who's van caught on fire so their living in a homemade tent kind of structure. And then there's the old guy with a little Toyota motorhome kind a like mine who they call the flat tire guy. They say he just camps on the side of the road. First he had a flat tire and so camped for almost a week till he could get someone up to fix it and then he had some other kind of breakdown so he just stays where the motorhome stops. Course there were some other stories about those here and there and I told them about the hidden campsite I found that had an old Indian Harley left.

With all the stories told, Dorothy and Allen headed on home and I went out for another cross desert exploration hike. When I got back it was late afternoon so I began packing up and heading for home just in time for the rain to start.

Posted by: cactusandquail at 09:21 | link | comments (3)

Comments:

#1  28 January 2005 - 12:09

 

Wow. What a vivid story with lots of characters. I always say truth is more interesting than fiction. Piecing together stories of the strangers who live nearby...what fun!

Sounds like your wide open spaces are beginning to fill up.

InMyLife

#2  28 January 2005 - 16:07

 

Not too bad yet as long as promoters don't get a hold of it. What does scare me is the fact that down the main road my road goes off of about 2 miles down there was a new row of poles, like for electricity.
These people are simple people and misfits for the most part. Exchanging information is a bit like in the old days. No tv's for the most part so talk is part of entertainment.

cactusandquail

#3  29 January 2005 - 00:26

 

This is a great post, seems like every rural area has a guy that will run out with a shotgun if someone drives to fast down the dirt road. I hope you dont end up with a golf course and condos out there.

rustymadgal

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