Just Another Day on the Prairie

Back in 2011, when Logan and I started the Chico’s & Logan’s Great Adventures blog, we were just setting out on a five-month trip with our peeps, travelling by truck and fifth wheel trailer. It was all so exciting. Keep in mind I was just two with a fairly narrow life experience to that point. That trip opened my eyes to what a big and wondrous place is the world.

From enormous sand dunes to rolling blue water that went farther than my eye could see. From palm trees to giant cactuses. From the noise and lights of Las Vegas to the quiet, starlit nights in the Arizona desert. It was a journey of contrasts, new experiences, and adventures. We never lacked for stories or fun photographs to share.

Maybe it’s because I’m getting older and sleep more these days, or it could be the pandemic that’s kept us home a lot and other people away, but life is just not feeling very blog-worthy lately. How is an old dog living on a farm in Alberta the stuff of exciting stories?

T tells me not to worry, that all writers go through periods of low inspiration, that I still have stories to tell. I sure hope so, because I’ve so enjoyed my life as a blogger, sharing my adventures with all of you. And I hope that it doesn’t come down to sleeping, eating, barking, walking, and pooping! Although, now that I consider this list, I think I’ve blogged about all of those things. :o)

The planned adventure to celebrate a big anniversary I mentioned in my blog post two weeks ago didn’t happen. So, when last Fur-iday came along and I was still just hanging out at home, I couldn’t muster up the energy to blog about anything. Why no anniversary adventure you might ask? Well, it snowed. In fact, April generally seemed to want to be winter this year, which is usually March’s gig.

I tried to get Storm to write something this week, but he’s spending all his time seeking out blades of green grass. The horses are a little crazy for the stuff at this point in the season after eating dehydrated food all winter. But he did send along this photo, since he promised a coat update when he blogged back in March and he’s committed to an update from the field next Fur-iday.

Storm’s end-of-April look. Tune in next month …

From what I hear, I’m not alone in my current lack of general enthusiasm. Between the pandemic and the weather, many are feeling weighed down. But I am ever optimistic that spring is here to stay, that the next adventure planned for just over a week from now will go ahead, and that very soon things will turn a corner on this pandemic. We all just need to hang in there a little longer.

In the meanwhile, on this Fur-iday morning on the last day of April, I think I’ll take a nap in that sunbeam over there.

Virtual Boondocking

As you probably know, the Canada-US border has been closed to nonessential traffic since March, but until recently, it didn’t have much of an impact on my life or the lives of my humans. We don’t typically travel down that way until late fall or early winter.

But now, as the weather gets colder and snow covers the ground and T walks by the sad, parked trailer on her way to feed horses every day, I know she feels it. It’s not just for the avoidance of winter my peeps travel south, although that’s a huge benefit, but for the trailer time, the boondocking in the desert, the days being distilled down to the very basics of life.

This will be the third winter in a row we’ve not travelled south, for various reasons, and I know that T and Nollind miss the desert and all the many cool places we camp. So, I’ve put together a little virtual boondocking tour of some of the favourite places we’ve parked over the years.

Our first-ever boondocking spot at the Kelso Dunes in the Mojave National Preserve, CA.

For those not familiar with the term boondocking, according to Campendium (a terrific website to search for campsites of all kinds) it’s this: “Boondocking is the opportunity to camp off-the-grid, far from the services and amenities that can be found at RV parks or developed campgrounds. It’s a quieter way of camping, one that often lands us in beautiful destinations for days or weeks at a time.”

We do a lot of boondocking when we’re south because there are just so many scenic, lots-of-elbow-room places to set up camp. So, sit back, put your feet up, grab a cup of tea or a foursies cocktail (depending on when you’re reading this), and enjoy the tour!

Fortuna Pond near Yuma, AZ. The people in the rigs beside us became good friends.
We camped with them at Ogilby Road in SE California a few years later.
Near Bouse, AZ.
Clark Dry Lake near Borrego Springs, CA.
Craggy Wash near Lake Havasu, AZ.
Saddle Mountain west of Phoenix. It was a km to our nearest neighbour.
Telephone Cove on Lake Mohave near Laughlin, NV. That’s our white box in the middle of the lakefront row.
Vulture Peak near Wickenburg, AZ. It was green that year!
Snowbird Mesa near Overton, NV.
Stewart’s Point on Lake Mead, not far from Las Vegas, NV.
Cibola National Wildlife Refuge near Blythe, CA.
Whitney Pocket, near Mesquite, NV.

We’ve travelled to the southwest deserts five winters now, and only one place has been on the list of stops for all five trips — Quartzsite, Arizona.

In any direction, there are plenty of places to camp around Quartzsite, and plenty of elbow room.
Plomosa Road north of Quartzsite.
Scadden Wash east of Quartzsite.
Dome Rock west of Quartzsite.
Another Dome Rock stay.
And yet another. Yes, we like Dome Rock.
And, no matter where we camp, always the desert’s evening show.

I hope you enjoyed this virtual boondocking tour of the southwest deserts. If it doesn’t make T dissolve into a puddle of tears, I might take all y’all wandering again!

Flashback Fur-iday – Home Is …

Since we first set out with our fifth wheel in 2011, we’ve spent more than a year and a half travelling and boondocking in the southwest United States, nineteen months broken into segments from two and half to five months each. It’s become like our second home with its familiar terrain and temperatures, our winter residence for all but three of the past eight winters.

Wupatki ruins in Northern Arizona with “Larry” in the background.

We’ve been back home in Canada since early March of 2018, the longest home stretch since we started RVing and, although I miss our desert time, it’s been good to be home for a while, reconnect with all things Alberta, and enjoy the great outdoors of our grand country.

Almost home in March of 2018.

Logan was really good at appreciating, and very attached to home. It might have been partly his dislike of vehicle travel but I think this prairie place was deep in his bones.

After a week in Tucson we spent a couple of days next to a lake in the far south of Arizona, Patagonia. Sandy soil, a lake to swim in, and grassy hills mostly without cactus, dog heaven! Well, almost. Dog heaven was actually the next stop just a few miles up the road near Sonoita at Xanadu Ranch. I felt like we’d come home — pastures, horses, wide open spaces — it was a sight for a travel-weary dog’s sore eyes.  

Sore Feed and Sore Eyes, March 2012
Near Sonoita in the high country of southern Arizona.

Generally, Logan was a “be happy where you are” kind of guy, always keen for the next adventure, eager to explore new places, but he did worry now and then about what was happening back home on the farm and he sometimes wrestled with bouts of homesickness.

Here I lie under the trailer but, unless there’s a breeze, it’s not nearly as cool as that basement I’m dreaming of. I think I’m starting to feel a little homesick, missing my farm and my daily routine there. I hope things haven’t gotten too out of control without me there to keep order. I hope my girlfriends across the road haven’t forgotten me. What am I saying? Of course they haven’t.

A Little Desert Weary, March 2015
A hot day at Stewart’s Point on Lake Mead.

But then he’d think about the alternative.

When I’m not happy, I’m just not that much fun to be around, or at least that’s the impression I get. They worry about me. They even started talking about it being better for me to maybe stay home next year. At first my response was, “Yay! What a terrific idea!” But it would mean months away from my people and, as annoying as he can sometimes be, my buddy Chico. I realized that “home” wouldn’t be “home” without them.

Home is Where the Hedgehog Is, January 2017

Wait a minute … Me? Annoying? Ah well, at least he called me his buddy.

Hiking in the Valley of Fire near Las Vegas.

One thing that Logan and I definitely agreed on was the following definition of home. I’ve been a lot of places in these past eight years, some good, some awesome, and a few not so great (at least not for dogs), but always there was this …

That was when I looked up “home” in the Merriam-Webster dictionary and it turns out it’s more than one thing. The first three in the list were 1) one’s place of residence; 2) the social unit formed by a family living together; and 3) a familiar or usual setting. So, although I’d be in my place of residence (number 1) if I stayed “home”, I would be separate from my social unit, my pack (number 2). As for number 3, Sid is just about as familiar as the farm house after the many months we’ve spent living in here.

Home is Where the Hedgehog Is, January 2017
Logan making himself at home in Nollind’s home-away-from-home office (aka the ver”man”da)

We’d hoped to be heading down the road about now but family and business circumstances are keeping T and Nollind home in Alberta for another month. However, although it’s getting cold and snowy here in Canada and the desert is calling, it’s okay, because it’s where we live, we’re here together, and it’s familiar in that very good way.

Home in the barnyard with Storm.