I have missed face-to-face socializing during COVID even though I’m pretty darn good at isolating during the winter.
My nearest within sight neighbor, also overlooking the Plomosa Mountains, sat 100s of feet away. It’s a big desert without many obstructions. I stayed a week, and we never spoke.
I did get to know a few of my neighborhood trees.
Sat out in the warmest afternoon sun, a delightful 63° with no wind, reading or crocheting.
Lots of noisy OHV and I figured out it’s because I’m so close to town, within sight in fact, and there’s a “trail” they can use. Sets up a lot of dust, in the distance thank goodness.
Caught a few sunrises and more sunsets.
I often put off writing blog posts as my routine seems redundant to me, boring even for others. I haven’t really traveled much this winter though I am enjoying many days of desert environment. Makes me wonder why readers return. I thank you, you feed my ego.
Packages arrived at my Wickenburg mail but nothing I couldn’t live without or felt the need to rush off the 1 1/2 hour drive. I could go in a few days and make arrangements to outdoor socialize with friends in the area.
Really, with a strong signal looking at the Quartzsite tower I spent lots of time online socializing with friends, sharing photos, working on blog posts, and a little news. Heck, I did that for days and days.
Until…all shit broke loose on the 6th. I was obsessed like I rarely am staying in touch with the news all day. I felt my blood pressure jump and my computer wouldn’t respond. That’s some powerful energy. My fridge wouldn’t stay lit and the ice cream was on melt down. I ate faster.
I did get outside several times to cool down and center with nature thankful for a brilliant sunset.
I also needed more down time the next day so figured to roll to Wickenburg on Friday.
However, Friday morning I got a phone call from Trish, who would be traveling from two months in California to her Colorado home and coming through Quartzsite. So I directed her to my camp for her first boondock experience. And we sat outside all afternoon safely socializing during COVID.
The next morning she continued her journey as did I. Picked up my mail including three Christmas cards, bought groceries, and headed to Congress and my ole stomping grounds off Ghost Town Road.
In fact, this giant Saguaro, a diverse bird condo, might look familiar as I’ve camped here before.
My social life is feast or famine. Saturday I had two visitors. Joann drove down from Prescott and we took a walk to the “swimming pool”/wildlife water tank. The camera is gone but the air and water were still too cold to dip.
Later Gypsy stopped by bringing vegie-cheese muffins we snarfed down as we sat in the sunshine, trying to avoid the wind, sharing our herstories as we all get to know each other better. I’m so glad socializing during COVID is possible while boondocking in the Arizona desert. Especially nice in real time because the signal is not reliable in Congress.
And so I’ll spend a few more days of isolation working on posts and photos mostly offline before I have to do the necessary dump and fill again.
Bonus, I get to watch the birds in my local Saguaro condo. This is a very diverse community hosting in the many holes Flickers, Gila Woodpeckers, Curve-billed Thrasher, and a solo Starling that only seems to stay overnight.
And might see a few more sunrises or at least some sunsets.
And before too long, another friend is coming to Quartzsite, so guess I might just head back that way, again.
RVers can both hide-out and socialize while camping in the desert. We are birds of a feather as we flew here for many of the same reasons, migrating from various northern points of the continent. Yet we don’t usually hover or flock closely together when boondocking except by mutual agreement.
The Anza-Borrego Desert is quiet except for the occasional soft howl of the wind like a coyote in the distance. Or sometimes the trailer rocks and the stove vent hums. But otherwise it’s typically quieter than my mind. I can see RVs around me, but not closer than 100 yards, some groups “circle up” like west bound wagons on a long trail. Yet a silent understanding and respect keeps most from parking almost on top of someone parked alone. It’s a big space and we all keep our distance. But I don’t want you to think we are anti-social because there is no lack of social opportunities.
So many different kinds of RVs, many huge and small 5th-wheels and motor homes, bumper towed trailers and truck campers, and then there’s 
They were fortunate this 1961 GM bus had been originally converted in 1989 and then three years ago they made it there own with a few renovations and added color, turquoise and browns with light walls and ceiling and wood cupboards making this bright and homey. Check out 
After sunset the movie “RV” with Robin Williams would be shown on a sheet hanging on the side of the bus but I didn’t stay that long as the temperature drops quickly when the sun goes down. Because of Raynaud disease, basically poor circulation, if I get cold my fingertips, toes and nose go numb, so I couldn’t have dressed warm enough for the predicted overnight low of 30F. I met a whole lot of people and I can’t remember all their names plus saw some familiar faces as well. And we’re all boondocking out in this marvelous desert.
I truly think we’re all a bunch of introverts, relishing the quiet time of alone even as couples. Many of us want to be connected with our various degrees of technology and fortunately that’s possible here at the foot of the Santa Rosa, Coyote and Vallecito Mountains forming a horseshoe-shape around us. Yet we are human, and need real face-time social connections and even before the internet we networked with people forming friendships that can last over time. Rvers cross paths with others living a mobile lifestyle and conversations pick up as if from yesterday.