Poo Ha Bah and Beyond!

          When last I left off, I was undecided as to whether I was going to volunteer my time at the spiritual retreat Poo Ha Bah and try to figure out what was the coincidental connection with a very handsome man I dubbed, Mr. GQ.

         I hung out for a few days at the free ‘cool’ spring before I finally decided I would give the volunteer thing a try so I drove the one mile back into to Tecopa Hot Springs to Poo Ha Bah and spoke with Mr. GQ about the duties needing to be performed and other ways I might be able to help.

         Monday morning at 1030 I showed up for my first duty of learning how to run the water system on the property, this being the main reason for the retreat is the natural mineral water that flowed under the Tecopa area, tapped and blessed by the Shoshone Elders who spiritually maintain the place.  Mr. GQ maintains the property when the Elders are away, which is most of the time.

         There is one large tank that feed a smaller tank, both above ground and very old and fifties looking.  The main tank draws from one of the many springs in the area and it is used mainly for watering the plants, while another water spring system is used for the mineral spa and pool that is also maintained by Mr. GQ.
         As we wandered around the property turning on different hoses and twisting different pipes that fed various desert plants, I had an odd feeling I was in a virtual reality game called ‘Riven’ and that without the proper combination, I would overwater or miss a bank of plants completely, also causing me to miss scores with Mr. GC and the spying Spirits that followed right along with us as we traipsed around ‘Their’ retreat.
        The rest of Monday was spent with me nesting my van into a space that was out of the way and in the shade now that the days are getting hotter and hotter. Long after I was settled in and the sun had set, I felt I was being watched by the ‘Spirits’ of the place, which caused me to close all of my curtains tightly shut, but each morning I would find one that had opened slightly and again the feeling would return of being watched.
        Tuesday came with a flurry of me getting to use pent up O.C.D. qualities as I began to reorganize and put together the Poo Ha Bah community building, starting off with the kitchen and pantry, getting it back into a workable order, something I found lacking when the ‘sweat lodge’ weekend had occurred.

        By the time I had put five and a half hours of myself into the two rooms, I was totally exhausted and ready for the large cool pool and hot spring that the property held, so I put on my suit, took off of my metal jewelry (?) and found myself slowly entering the 90 degree pool that felt like 50, being I was so hot to begin with.
      I did a quick dip and then tried soaking in the hot spring and found it too hot to remain in for very long and ventured back to my van with a strange feeling of disappointment at the two extreme temperatures of the springs I was now staying at, in exchange for a minimum two hours of work a day. And the ‘Spirits’ yelled “get out!”.
        Wednesday brought about me learning how to drain the hot spa and scrub and clean it every third day.  The rocks that line the bottom of the spa and steps down into it are just amazing, not only in looks but in healing qualities that one can feel each time you put your feet on them.  At one point I felt I was playing a healing game of ‘Twister’ by putting my feet on each different color, giving me all the healing qualities they held in each mental spin I made in my head.
        In the meantime while learning and cleaning, I was also spending more and more time with Mr. GQ and we both quickly learned that although we do have many coincidences in our lives, there is nothing more than that we share in common.  He was very introspective with his time and with his words, preferring to spend most of it alone but coming out of his ‘shell’ when I mentioned I had a game of ‘Scrabble’ in my van.
        The next few evenings became filled with cooking up meals that we shared together followed by me whipping him in the word game that seemed to take forever to play each time we did.  We would talk occasionally, but for the most part he was interested in healing himself through yoga, meditation, bike riding, walking and getting his ass kicked in board games.
        Thursday I went into the city of Pahrump with a British woman who has a house there as well as a trailer in Tecopa.  We spent the day going to thrift stores and shopping before driving to her home and applying the décor she purchased to her new house.

          Decorating is one of my most favorite pastimes and the 70 something British Lady, who also had wonderful taste but lacked definition with her knick-knacks, gave me full rein as I wander amongst her rooms rearranging and shuffling items to and fro until she exclaimed in her wonderful British accent, “You should be doing this professionally, you are amazing.”   It gave me ego building joy as we continued to spend the next week and a half going back into Pahrump another three times just to decorate and organize her house.

        In the meantime, I was not doing as well at Poo Ha Bah as I had hoped.  Although I was knocking out and organizing each room that fell into the sight of my O.C.D. eyes, my attitude about life was quickly getting ‘drawn tightly’ around me as I tried to figure out why I did not like the place nor did I feel that my time spent there was being productive in ways that I wanted, like learning about Native traditions, or was I?
        Each night I would sit in my van and think about what a fool I had been telling Mr. GQ that I would stay for a two weeks when all I really wanted was to ‘get out’ as the ‘Spirits’ kept reminding me to do.  Add to it a woman who is on the Board of Directors for Poo Ha Bah who came into the community room and helped herself to a large amount of spices and made a weird comment about my organizing the place before bounding out of the building leaving me feeling like I was in someone else’s kitchen and making a mess of things.

        Friday came and went with me finishing off all that I could as far as the kitchen and pantry area, putting off the last two rooms; the living space and a side storage room, until the weekend. My energy level was beginning to drain as I spent most of Saturday sleeping in my van or visiting with my ‘desert’ friend, trying to figure out a good way to get out of my commitment at the retreat as I was feeling more and more drained each day I was hanging out and working there.
        On Sunday both Mr. GQ and I finished off the side storage room that was filled more with dust than with anything else and we both took the remainder of the day off to clean up and retreat into our own worlds, as we so often did after the noon hour came and went.
        I spent an average of five hours a day for most of the days I did stay at the property but Monday came with me begging off a yoga class Mr. GQ gives while avoiding the ‘Board’ woman who was coming to it.  I left to hang out with the ‘British’ woman.
        Upon my return later that day, Mr. GQ sat me down and gave me a list of complaints he had about me, saying that being a week had passes he need to clarify things if I was going to continue volunteering at Poo Ha Bah.
        First off I was far too negative towards the ‘Board’ woman and I had a bad attitude about her place at the retreat.  Second off, I made a comment about how he had gotten up earlier than his normal 10:30 appearance, “Oh, you’re up already?” and it was out of line as his schedule was not of my concern.  Third, I was a gossip and that I needed to stop talking to people about what I did at Poo Ha Bah and about him.
         I was not surprised by any of this as he basically is a recluse on the property and he was not doing well with me being there, just as I was not doing well with it either.  I had spoken about him to my ‘British’ friend who I later learned is the true gossip of Tecopa and that once I had realized this, I quit telling her anything about Mr. GQ and what he does or does not do at the retreat, but that did not excuse me from telling her about him in the first place.
       We parted our ways the following morning on Tuesday when I took the rest of all of my food from the refrigerator (that he generously had helped himself to and did not offer to repay me) and packed up my van driving down the road three blocks to park at the Tecopa Hot Springs Campground alongside of my ‘desert’ friend where I took a long needed deep breath, the first I swear I had taken since pulling onto the Poo Ha Bah property.
         No more did the ‘Spirits’ words ring in my head, ‘get out’ and neither did the ominous warning that crept into my daily thinking of a planetary alignment forecast for the last week of March that had read, “don’t jump from the frying pan into the fire”.
        That night I had a great time as I was the bingo caller in the Hurl-Butt Community Center where I gave away a free pass to the hot springs courtesy of the Tecopa Camp Ground and a stove top grill I found brand new at a give-away garage sale. 
        Wednesday came with my ‘British’ friend and I going into Pahrump for the last time together, as I knew that I need to start my journey back home now and I was planning on leaving the next day.  We spent the day fixing the last of the pictures straight, the vases properly placed, and the furniture where it belongs, before heading off to her favorite coffee shop where I was able to check emails and drink a very frothy coffee shake while she talked with her Son on the phone and drank her huge cupped latte’.
       Thursday I was supposed to be leaving Tecopa Hot Springs with my ‘desert’ friend until he realized that his month of tenancy wasn’t over until Friday, so he wandered off to Dodge City to spend time with his friends while I hung out in his camp spot and took the most wonderful nap I had taken in over a week and a half.  Upon waking up from my nap I had my first encounter with the rumored “Tecopa Bombers”, a feared fly that apparently rips your skin to suck your blood; a clever creature who waits until you have your hands full so you cannot swipe at them. Bull-s…, I grabbed a damn fly swatter and after three very determined ‘whacks’ I finally killed this terror of the desert.  I shudder as I recall the venom in which I killed it, for let me tell you, just watching the damn thing fly at me made me scream out loud and lunge for the swatter.  I am not sorry I do not have a living picture of it…but I am very adverse to blood sucking anything.
         When I woke up the next morning I took a good soak in the hot springs, showered and finished packing my van.  I said goodbye to my ‘British’ woman friend and left a note for Mr. GQ with my email address on it in case he ever wanted a friend, for he really needs one, and then decided to leave ahead of my ‘desert’ friend and start on my journey towards Everett.

         I drove north out of Tecopa, past Shoshone, and across the Nevada border into Armargosa Springs where I took pictures of the most incredible mountain range and one of the largest cows I had ever seen before driving another fifty miles to Beatty where I followed the signs to the small RV Park called Bailey’s Hot Springs.

I paid fifteen dollars which gave me use of the three hot springs and a camping spot without electricity.  The place is ¾ empty and within an hour of me getting there, a group of men in their thirties park right behind me and set up camp before they began drinking beer and talking loudly. Go figure.

         The pools there are different, as each of these hot spring experiences are revealing to me on a regular basis.  There are two buildings and three pools; room 1 has a temperature of about 103 while room 2 has a temp of over 106.  The second building has room 3 and the pool is about 95 degrees and all of the pools are the same size and depth, none deeper than three feet by 20 feet wide by thirty feet long and all with gravel bottom floors requiring one to wear shoes unless you have tough feet.

        The part that surprises me is the key system they use.  Each room is locked and you must wait until the key is placed on a table at the office before you can use the spring, giving it a clothing optional venue but, each of the pools can easily accommodate a minimum of

least 10 to 15 people each and letting one or two at a time in seems like a waste.
The doors should be opened and swim suits required, period.  That way, people could roam from pool to pool and find the appropriate temperature without having to wait for the right pool key to show up at the office while you then hope that you don’t conflict with other people who are also waiting for a pool to open up.  It really is a silly system considering how large the pools are and how many people stand around waiting for a pool to become vacant.
          In the morning I was unable to get another soak in before I left and rendezvous with my ‘desert’ friend in Beatty where he lead me to another hot spring in the desert outside of Dyer, another one that was free to camp and soak at.

        We drove over a seven thousand foot mountain and then followed Fish Valley for many miles before coming into the small town of Dyer where we got the daily special at the only tavern before driving another fifteen miles into the middle of nowhere on a dirt road, only to arrive at Fish Valley Hot Springs.

       The place was packed with too many people for such a desolate place.  The University of Reno Geology Department was finishing up their spring break there, trashing the place in ways only college kids can.  The many garbage cans were overstuffed with far too many empty beer and wine containers, plus all of their other trash, food, paper, plastic and clothing, covered the beautiful area and filled the natural spring ponds to the point I thought of how horrible the impact of humans had been on the place.

My ‘desert’ friend and I tried to ignore their loud party as we settled in for our last evening together ‘for a while’, talking and laughing about the silliest of times we have been sharing over the last four months of our new friendship. 

      The following morning came with the University kids leaving the area but forgetting to ‘pack it out’ so the place remained trashed but far quieter than it had been the previous day. 
        My ‘desert’ friend and I were able to finally soak (far too many Univ. students filled it the day before) before he left back down the dusty dirt road to meet up with another fellow ‘hot springer’.

By noon the place had cleared out except for one trailer, a family of off road vehicle riders who proceeded to drive their very noisy, polluting, motorcycles near and around my van.  Amazes me how inconsiderate people can be.  I am the only person for 15 miles, surrounded by hundreds of acres, but my van is the main turning point for their noisy machines.

By three o’clock the wind had kicked up and began gusting so strong that I had to retreat to my van while feeling like I was rocking at dock on my boat as I watched out the window all of that trash left behind by the un-eco-friendly University of Reno students fly around the land and into the ponds while the ducks and birds tried to avoid being hit by the debris.

It was like that throughout the night.  The wind howled through the valley and upturned everything it could.  At one point the van rose up so far on the rear springs I thought it would just push me over but instead kept me up for many hours as I listened to it causing my rack on top of the van to vibrate and hum loudly and the straps of my bike rack to slap against the lift back where I was laying.

       When the sun arose the following morning the windy gusts had caused major havoc with the trash, but the volume of wind had decreased and I took it as a sign to pack up and get the heck out of there.  I just about froze myself as I packed up and realized that the wind had brought thirty degree weather and had dusted the Sierra-Nevada’s with new snow, so I put on the warm clothes (jeans and a long shirt, socks and shoes…oh my word I felt bundled after so long in my tank and capris) and began driving towards Reno, NV where I had planned on spending the night.

       That is when it hit, the spring storm of 2013 as snow and ice splattered my windshield causing me to use my wipers for the first time in many months, finding them to be icing over, but functional for getting me through the sleet storm.  This continued for many miles as I tried to see some of the landscape around me and found only heavy clouds willing to spew at me this white stuff I thought I had avoided by hanging out in Tecopa for an extra month.  Laughing out loud as I type!
        Well, to say the least, unless I needed gas or a bathroom, I did not stop until I saw sunshine and potential warmth, which brought me to Susanville, CA where I am comfortably writing from a cheap hotel and hoping that I will be able to find a cheap RV Park at my next stop (Klamath, Oregon?) where I can plug in to the electricity and have a heater as the nights promise to be about 32 degrees for most the rest of my journey back towards Everett.
        All caught up for now…until I can write again while I am Traveling Thru The Tonda Zone... ~Peace~

 

Tecopa Part II

Tecopa Hot Springs: Part II

          I can hardly believe it has been a month since I showed up in the small town of Tecopa where I have spent a good time resting and trying to keep up with the socializing and activities in the campground; succeeded on some and failed on others. 

         I tried the morning aerobics but found it hurt my back too much to continue their program so I resumed with morning Tai Chi followed by water aerobic exercises.  I managed to go to every bingo game; even winning a private soak on my last week here, which I took this morning at 0800 and to my surprise, the private soak is a lot hotter than the public pools.  It was nice to get away from the crowds of the main pools but my mind and the time flew before I was out of there, showering and getting over to the library where my internet half an hour time slot was due.  Another one of those activities I never missed my appointment with as all of these things filled the hours in between the unknown, wasted hours. 

       I did spend a lot of my time here in Tecopa writing.  I have filled far too many pages of my hand written journal and completed two hundred pages of editing my story that was recovered for me in Borrego Springs. 

        I watched a dozen or so movies, most of them romantic comedies or feel good movies and I read two books during the slower times of watching many windstorms and weather pattern shifts that take place over the gorgeous mountain ranges surrounding me here.

       The wildlife has amazed me in how much there is as well as how diversified it is.  A coyote sat in a field and yipped for over an hour in broad daylight where, with my binoculars, I could clearly see it sitting, nose raised and howling.
       The aviary life in this desert oasis is just as surprising as I have counted many birds I already know plus others I have not a clue.  Ring neck dove, crows, ravens, harrier hawks, red tail hawks, owls, duck, geese, red wing black bird, road runner, grackles, starlings, quail, vultures, and a pacific parrotlet.   Late at night after I was already in bed, I heard the most beautiful songbird sing its song twice before it disappeared into the dark.  I wondered if it was the nightingale bird, for if it was, then I now know why their song is amongst the most beautiful songs in the world.
       Every month on the second Wednesday, there is a community center pot luck in which my ‘desert’ friend and I contributed corned beef and cabbage that joined many yummy dishes of hot food and tasty deserts, my favorite being the pistachio pudding with cherries and nuts forcing me to indulging myself with a second helping.
       At our table that night was one (of three) of the county parks department executives from Los Angeles to evaluate and negotiate a ten year contract that was soon to expire for the Tecopa Hot Springs and Campground, asking people for ways that the springs could be improved upon.
      My suggestions were later, but included: water dispensary machines (there is no drinkable water in Tecopa, nearest water machine is in Pahrump 30 miles away or you buy bottled water at the store for $2 a gal.) and a coded gate entrance for 24 hour access to the pools for the paying clientele of the campground.  Others brought up WIFI and other activities within the park like shuffle boards or net game areas. 
       It was during the frenzy of eating and talking that off to my right at another table I overheard the conversation turn towards a sweat lodge being conducted over the weekend at the Shoshone spiritual retreat directly across from the campground. What luck, my Ewok Village friend said I needed a good sweat lodge and here was one right across the street.
      I leaned over and asked a man what time the ceremony was to begin and he not  only introduced himself to me, he answered my questioned, asked my name and directed me to a posted flyer that gave the details of the event which was to last the entire weekend. He told me he lived there and was looking forward to seeing me in a few days.
      I thanked him and then tried to concentrate on the people at my own table and on the Executive and his concerns for the hot springs, but found my mind and my vision blurred by the man who sat at the other table; he was too good looking to be there.  His tall frame, dark hair and chiseled features gave him the appearance of a GQ model that came out to the desert to enjoy some sun and fun, not someone who would be working at a spiritual center.
      Before I knew it the weekend had arrived and my alarm was set to go and join the sunrise ceremony at the retreat.  Having a cup of tea and feeling the need to dress appropriately, I wore a skirt, t-shirt, and my fleece jacket, walked the equivalent of three blocks over to the center I had been aware of, but had yet to visit, and found my way to the early morning fire.
      Standing in a circle around the fire pit of lava rocks shaped like a turtle (for Mother Earth) were about a dozen of us sleepy eyed souls that ventured in to hear the Elder speak and pray over the Earth and new day.  He spoke so well I felt moved by his words and then he played his drum chanting while we all joined hands and danced slowly around in a clockwise motion, our feet beating out the rhythm of his song.
      When the sun finally rose we had already sang four songs and we fell silent until Grandfather rose above the horizon.  We once again danced around the fire and then the Elder said a long prayer and they passed out tobacco and sage mix that everyone took a small handful of.
      The Elder was followed by a female Elder and she spoke in the native Shoshone tongue and prayed for the new day and the new friends and new ways.  She tossed her mixture into the fire and blessed the water as she too picked up her drum and sang a song, again in her native tongue, before we each individually went and put out prayers into the sage mixture and cleansed ourselves with the water, before walking clockwise back to your standing position in the circle.
      Mr. GQ came up to me after the ceremony hugging me and saying he was glad I could make it to the event.  We walked back to the main building where breakfast was going to be served and where he offered me a tour of the mineral pool and grounds later in the day after some of the classes and events had taken place.
        Inside of the building was a large room filled with various couches and chairs, most covered by a hand crotchet or knitted blanket of various colors, all placed around a rock fireplace that took up half of the other side of the room.  At the far end of the room was a long table with a mismatched set of chairs that seemed to seat about twelve people, while the kitchen area was hidden off to the right past a serving area between it and the dining room.
        I walked into the kitchen and offered to help and was instantly handed a dishcloth to dry dishes and put them away…a task I quickly finished as the breakfast was set out and we all gathered in a circle and the Ms. Elder blessed out food with her Native Blessings and we all dished up breakfast, buffet style. Scrambled eggs, bacon, sausage, fruit salad and mini muffins was the choice at the serving counter.  Orange juice, coffee and tea if you please and the rest turned into a loud talk fest as everyone enjoyed the wonderful food and conversations.
       After the meal I left the retreat and went back to my Herbette and let her be properly woken up also.  Feeding, watering, and spending a moment or two with her, I changed my shirt into something cooler and left again for the retreat, hoping to catch the drum making class that was to start. 
        I threw a small bag over my shoulder of various essentials; water bottle, key to van, money and sunglasses, jumped on my bike and rode up to the retreat and was reprimanded by the Ms. Elder for exposing my bra strap with my tank top, both needing to covered up with an t-shirt or something else.
        Embarrassed, I left and went back to my van where I took a two hour nap that I was sure I needed before putting on a t-shirt and going back up to the retreat for the sweat lodge ceremony that really was the main attraction for me.
         I had never experienced a sweat lodge, but I had read a book that included a part where the author explained what goes into making a ‘true’ sweat lodge.  First, the willow branches must be asked if they will help make the sweat lodge, then they are prayed for, before and after they are cut, then they are strategically placed to form the dome shape of the sweat lodge.  They are once again blessed before heavy black wool blankets are placed over the structure, the wool being of a natural fiber that allowed the flow of steam and heat to go through it, while wool rugs cover the dirt floor in a circle around a small fire pit.  The top of it is no more than maybe five foot tall and before you can enter it you must remove all personal items except for your clothing.
        Women were to have towels and long skirts to cover themselves in a respectable manor while the men were allowed to wear swim trunks.  (I thought this very difficult, women had to be covered and sweat, while the men were allowed air to reach their pores)
       We had to be cleansed with sage and then get on our hands and knees, humbly enter the sweat lodge in a clockwise manor, women first, men last.  I was the last of the women so I also sat next to a man in a tiny space that I could not get comfortable in. 
       First off, I do not do well with, ‘on the ground’ as it hurts my back and hips, second off, I can’t sit cross legged as my legs knees are messed up and third, there were thirteen of us crammed into the lodge and I could not spread out in either direction except for putting my legs straight out in front of me, which put my feet next to the hot rocks.
       Wiggle, wiggle, squirm, squirm, then out of my mouth without asking permission to speak, even before they put the 1^st rock into the lodge, I had to say, “How long does this take?”  I cannot begin to tell you how stupid the words sounded even to me; as if I had an appointment or something else to do, but truth was I was having a panic attack.
       What if I couldn’t do this, what if I over heated and passed out, what if I had a heart attack, what if I can’t breathe?  Yes, I was having a panic attack, very quietly in my head and for some reason the Elder seemed to understand and went on to gently explain the procedure and the process of what the sweat lodge was for and that if for any reason we needed to leave, we could.  He put my fears to rest and then we continued on with the ceremony.
      The ceremony is delivered in four parts: Birth, Teen, Adult, and Elder Years and then the Elder informed us that being it was already 100 degrees outside (and it was…whew, who needs a lodge on a day like that?) he would be using 19 rocks for our ceremony that day. 
       I was dumbfounded.  There was that number once again following me around like an omen, a great one usually, and one of the main reasons I actually made it through the full two hours of the sweat and completed the rebirthing that you feel like you experience while inside of the lodge.
       After the sweat you exit the way you came in, on your hands and knees, humbly and in a clockwise manor.  I was shocked by the brightness of the light and yet felt so wonderful inside I had no words to describe the lightness I felt, the gratitude for the water I drank and the wonderful people around me, dripping wet as myself.
       I wandered back to my little Matilda and Herbette, changing into dry clothes and going immediately to the showers where I did a ten minute soak and a ten minute shower and redressed again before heading back to the center with my ‘desert’ friend for the Indian Taco dinner that was made with fried Indian bread. 
       After the meal was finished, Mr. GQ gave me his promised tour of the grounds and I was surprised at how big the pool was and at how cool the temperature (95 degrees), with Mr. GQ telling me there was a small hot tub in the back as well as showers. 
        As we stood outside of the pool he asked me where I was from and when I replied I was from Everett, WA he said he had family in Washington.  I asked from where and he said his Mom and Aunt were currently living in Edmonds but had moved from Everett.
       I mentioned that my Mom was in Everett but she had been born in Edmonds and we both chuckled slightly until I said that I had gone home for her birthday on 12/12/12 to see her.
       “My Mom and Aunt are both born on December 12^th.  I am December the 5^th; they are the 12^th but two years apart.” He said softly looking down at me as I stared up at him in disbelief.
       We both fell quiet and we walked back to the building where I said I needed to go and put Herbette to bed and we hugged and I left.  By the time I did put her to bed I myself was completely wiped out from the entire day, including the sweat lodge and the five or so trips I made over to the property so I never went back to the retreat but crashed out with odd thoughts in my head about the chances of finding a sweat lodge and good looking man with similarities that are too coincidental to ignore, out in the middle of the Mohave Desert.
        I had set my alarm and rose early for the sunrise ceremony and found that this morning brought out about twenty people who joined hands and danced around the Elder who sang and prayed the new day’s arrival.
       While we waited in the buffet line for breakfast I saw Mr. GQ under the kitchen sink with a plunger in one hand and a plumber snake in the other and then throughout the meal I saw him going in and out while he worked on the clog.  I figured this was the maintenance part of his volunteering that he did to be able to stay at the property and use the facilities.
       After breakfast I left again to attend Herbette and to just chill for a while until the raffle at 1:00 P.M. where ten drums that were made the previous day and various other items were to be won by lucky ticket holders. 
       My ‘desert’ friend won a t-shirt with the retreats name; Poo Ha Bah across the chest and the bear and eagle as the totem of the property.  I unfortunately won nothing but was given a jar of comfrey suave that one of the classes had made earlier that day.  I have been using the suave nightly on my back and it has done wonders and I would highly recommend it for anyone who needs relief from muscle pain and spasms.
       Dinner that night was one of my favorites, spaghetti…yum! So, as I am looking around the table for a place to sit there are two chairs, one next to Mr. GQ and one next to it.  I sit down next him and after a few bites of food I ask him if he grew up in Seattle being his Mom and Aunt were there and he said that his family moved from New Jersey when he was twelve and he left for California in his early twenties.
       I asked him where he went to school before shoveling in a mouthful of food that I almost couldn’t swallow when he mentioned my own high schools’ name and then when on to say he was one of the first students to be segregated in the 70’s and had to bus it to the high school.
       I stared at the man sitting next to me in total disbelief.  He has really dark black hair, as I have mentioned, and not one strand of it shows grey, while his face with his high straight cheek bones and his angled jaw, reflected nothing of being old enough to have been part of the Seattle bus segregation, because I had been one of those students and he looked twenty years younger than me.
       “No way could you have been segregated, you’re too young.  I was in 9^th grade when that started.  How old are you?” I said dumbfounded.
         When he told me he was 47 years old I thought I blushed and I believe the Elder saw me do it because he smiled at the two of us as we continued to discover how many other similarities we held.
        Needless to say as the evening progressed it was very clear to me I was not meant to leave in the morning as I had planned.  The Elder said that God laughs when you say you have plans, and right then I could hear Him getting a really big chuckle out of my supposed plans.
        By Monday afternoon I had packed up all of my things and began this blog with the last of my electricity when I my check out time arrived.  I put away my computer and put everything else away before going up to the office and returning a 30 amp electrical adaptor that held a $20 deposit I would most assuredly need, mentioning to the clerk that I had been shorted three days because of the month being so short and that being it was so late in the day (2PM) I should be able to stay another night, which to my delight and surprise the clerk said he didn’t care and let me do it.
        It would have been a great ending to my last night in the Tecopa Hot Springs and Campground stay had not this overly irritating incident happened when two people decided they wanted the spot I had and the spot next to it, so they crammed two vehicles into one space, waiting like vultures, for me vacate the next morning.
         I took a bike ride up to the Retreat center and was hoping to run into Mr. GQ and talk with him some more but he and the Elder had spent the whole day chopping wood and going into Pahrump for supplies and both of them were very worn out.  As I was leaving them to rest and recoup after their hard day, the Elder invited me over the next morning for breakfast.
         Going back to the campground and seeing the truck camper and the 5^th wheel vehicle crammed up near my van and my space made me want to scream as I just went inside of my van and slept until the alarm at 0500. 
          I am sure I woke my new nearest neighbors when I started up my van at 0630 and drove out of there and across the street to the retreat where I found the Elder cooking up potatoes and Mr. GQ making coffee. 
         The Elder told me that a good friend of his needed a ‘sweat’ and they would be having a ceremony if I wanted to join them.  My first response was ‘yes’ but then I began to overthink the entire thing and said I would think about it but then decided that I did want to. 
          Because of this decision, breakfast would be delayed until after the sweat and the Elder went out to start the fire for the stones, while the friend of the Elders’ arrived and we all went to change for the lodge.
          I decided at the last minute to use the sanitation can for a last chance bathroom break and posted on the wall inside were the rules of conduct while on the property of this Shoshone retreat.  It was there, written in black and white, that if I was having my ‘monthly’ I could not join in any reindeer games.  I was not allowed in the pool, in the sweat lodge, in the hot tub, nothing.  I was unsure if I was even allowed on the property.
           Reading this rule I went to the Elder and explained that the ‘sweat’ the other day had caused my ‘monthly’ to start and I excused myself from the premises, going instead down the road a mile to the ‘mud ditch’ and did an early morning soak and prayer.
          I left there and went and visited my ‘desert’ friend before trying to figure out what I should be doing.  I was leaving the previous day to head back to Everett and be with my Mom and try to start over again and then I find a sweat lodge and a handsome man, both in the middle of nowhere, and I find that there are too many similarities with this man to just drive away into the desert and wonder my whole life, what if…
        So, I moved my van out about a mile from the campground to a place on BLM land where I can camp for free, next to this small ‘cool’ spring that has a concrete pool 5X5 by four feet deep, running about 90 degrees that sits below a palm tree next to a pale blue couch that someone left here.  The place has a bad rap as being a party place but I have only seen three old men and myself here, and I am the only one camping.
        I have no idea how long I will stay here in Tecopa now that I have found this retreat that needs volunteers year round and this handsome man who has far too many coincidences with me to just turn my back on.  It truly is a dilemma for me.
        Until I can figure it out while Traveling Thru The Tonda Zone…Peace.

 

         

Tecopa Hot Springs

Tecopa, CA 

N: 35.87971 W: 116.2334 Elevation: 1333

Tecopa Hot Springs and Campground; space: NW16

 

I arrived last Tuesday evening right at dusk, in a place so far removed from the main stream populace, I thought I had arrived into a Twilight Zone episode complete with Rod Steiger narrating to me, after driving through the Mohave Desert to find the place.

Okay, so the narration was really the local AM radio station telling me all about the Mohave Desert and Death Valley while I wound my way up a slight incline (1000 feet) and then forty miles across one of the loneliest roads I have driven since my journey began.

After I arrived at the campground I was cheerfully greeted by a woman dressed in a tan and brown uniform that knew my ‘desert’ friend by name and laughed and stated that everyone knew him there in Tecopa.

She showed me his campsite which he currently was gone from, and I checked in for $15 a night, signing up for two of them in a row.  The first night my friend never did return to his campsite and I was pretty beat with my two hundred mile drive from Palm Springs to Tecopa, so I hit the sack without even soaking in the hot pools, sleeping very well.

       It was mid-morning the following day, after my first soak in the pools, that my ‘desert’ friend showed up and told me he had given up on me visiting him in the place he calls heaven.
      He showed me around the place a bit…meeting a few of the residence who lived there before we headed up to the main town of Tecopa two miles away to have a community dinner at an ‘eclectic’ man’s home in Tecopa Heights.
      Let me backtrack some here…Tecopa is in the middle of the desert surrounded by rocky mountain ranges on both the east and southwest.  The actual township of Tecopa is one block long and has a community hall, a church and a post office.  Once in town there is one road that leads up a slight hill to a residential neighborhood amongst bare desert acres which overlook the small town and the surrounding mountain ranges.
      Tecopa Heights consist of about twenty houses with a few old mobile homes and travel trailers thrown in for aesthetic appeal, the whole of the place reminding me of a movie I might have seen years ago, the surrealism of the place overwhelming me.
      I was facing backwards in my ‘desert’ friends Sprinter (the seat is stuck in the position facing the back of the vehicle) and I was unable to see where we were truly heading, but I about fell on my butt when I realized where we ended up; the yellow stucco house of my vision.
     I had to walk around the place twice, in total amazement, of how close it was to the vision I had about it.  It was not 100% correct, as this place had a second house near it, same yellow stucco integrated with rocks and stone that I never saw in the vision, but the house of the ‘eclectic’ man, his place fit the picture I had.  There is no longer a screen door (it is propped in back along with other junk) but the front door has a huge window in it, dark, like the one in my vision. 
     The exterior of the place had paint peeling off of the yellow stucco plaster that cover the wood frame of the house.  It reminded me of an old original desert farm house of the movies, complete with broken down windmill and grain storage house plus the additional second building that had obviously been converted into a really cute small house, built for one person to live in.
     My heart was racing as I wanted to see the people or person who lived there, to see if I had validity to my vision or if I was still a whack job; both still possible.
    The ‘eclectic’ man who stepped out of the dark interior of the yellow stucco house took me by surprise.  He had on a dark blue ski hat while wearing a postal blue jacket and navy blue slacks with grey wool socks inside of sneakers. 
     His eyes were covered in wrap-around sunglasses while his smile was both friendly and bright white as he quickly let my ‘desert’ friend introduce us before he wandered back into his yellow stucco abode.
     Mr. ‘eclectic’ wandered in and out of the yellow stucco house, each time wearing different versions of his original outfit but always adding something to it, like a straw sun hat over his ski hat or taking something away like the sneakers for loafers, all while opera music was being sang by a male tenor voice, softly escaping the opened front door.
     The five acre land had the tree in the front yard shading the house, like in my vision, but the yard was cluttered with the most eclectic collection of organized junk I have seen in many years.  There was even a table so full of organized items that I thought it was a garage sale table and asked the owner of the house if I could purchase a small Pyrex bowl I fell in love with, whereupon he insisted I take it for free, seeing as it wasn’t a garage sale table at all.
      Meanwhile, I wandered around looking at the house and property from all types of angles trying to determine if this really could be the place I had a vision about so long ago.  I still have no idea, but it is darn close in appearance.
     My ‘desert’ friend was cooking a lamb roast in the oven of the small rock and stucco house while his ‘Swedish’ friend helped cook the two squashes I contributed to the meal along with some sweet potatoes and broccoli.  
     I left the two of them alone in the tiny kitchen to my ‘desert’ friends’ delight, as he is ever so smitten with his lady doctor friend from Sweden that at 68 years old, he still actually blushes in her company.
    When the meal was ready to serve, the rest of the company had already arrived and introductions were made as we sat down to the very organic and tasty meal of meat and vegetables.
    I met Boris and Natasha (from the cartoon Rocky and Bullwinkle) who were from Germany (not Russia) but spoke in heavy accents and actually were shaped like the characters I named them after.  Boris was a stocky man with dark facial and head hair, who spoke rarely but ate lots; while Natasha had short black hair cut straight at her jawline who had heavily made up eyes and lips that went with her high cheek bones, heavy accent, and svelte frame.
     They were only in Tecopa for one more night before heading back to Germany where they lived nine months out of the year, the other three months were spent just up the road from the yellow stucco house.
     There was an elderly gentleman from Holland, who was soft spoken in both mannerism and speech who contributed to the dinner his aged brandy and a heartfelt moment that brought tears to my eyes.
     The ‘eclectic’ man brought in three large bottles of imported beer and the Swedish doctor retrieved glasses for everyone to share the welcomed beverage. 
     Mr. ‘eclectic’ sat next to me at the table smiling his bright smile, giving me an opportunity to finally see his eyes, which were grey like his socks.  He still wore his ski hat but had changed clothes once more, this time wearing a dark sweater and sweat pants.
     Everyone served up and the meal began, pleasant and tasteful as we ate.  That is until Mr. ‘eclectic’ ask everyone; ‘Has anyone ever been so close to death they thought they were dying?’ This brought an odd assortment of stares before slowly, people began to answer him.
    The Swedish doctor said she fell asleep behind the wheel of a car once and had no idea how she got back home while Natasha said she was in a car wreck and it felt like she could have died.
    The Holland man answered by saying he almost died in WWII from starvation and that he and his family went many days only drinking water.
    You could have heard a pin drop when he continued on about people who skip a meal and think they are hungry, he emphasized that ‘many’ days would pass between meals and how he lost family members due to starvation.
    The Swedish doctor changed the question around and asked if there had ever been a day in a person’s life when they felt like they had been reborn.
    Boris spoke up and said it was the day his daughter was born and he held her for the first time, and all the women at the table unanimously said, ‘awe’.
    Mr. Holland looked up with tears in his eyes and spoke ever so softly; “It was the day that the Swedish flew planes overhead of our homes and dropped loaves of bread to our starving tables.” He then rose and left the small house where we had gathered for our meal together. 
    It was upon his return shortly thereafter that he brought in the bottle of brandy and we all had a small shot glass full in celebrations of good friends and good times.
    My ‘desert’ friend said we had to leave immediately so I said my good-byes as we drove out of there driving the three miles back to the campground where I needed to hook up my electricity before nightfall.
    After consideration of my finances, I paid a low monthly rent for a space in the campground and paid slightly higher for electricity to run my computer and my heater, (instead of spending money driving around in circles), before I had really stopped and considered where I had placed myself for a whole month.
    The campground has a wonderful view and many trees, both palm and leaf tree specimens, plus a huge flat camping ground that is divided into four different areas, each with its own set of rest rooms and wash stations.
    The water here is not drinkable due to the strong minerals in the soil and the springs that feed the local water supply.  There are many alkaline lake beds dotting the valley between the dark mountainous western view, scattered amongst knee high brown desert grasses, which creates the illusion of snow on the tundra of the artic.
     There is a run off pond that is rectangular in shape and holds about one hundred ducks that swim back and forth most of the days that the wind stays below ten miles an hour, otherwise they hang out on the edge of the plastic coated liner and squawk about the wind.
    And yes, the wind does blow through here.  My ‘desert’ friend assures me he told me about the wind but somewhere in my foggy brain I don’t remember him saying that most days the wind pushes the ten to fifteen mile an hour mark, rarely getting to less than five miles on the calmest of evenings. 
    We have been having gusts up to 45 MPH per the weather chart posted at the campground office, and the way my van has been being jostled around, I have no doubts they are correct.
    The hot springs pools here are segregated by gender creating two sides plus there are no bathing suits or clothing allowed in either of the two pools per each side.
    You must shower before and after your soak as the water is very soft and extremely clear. One pool is hot (104 degrees) and the other is a cool pool that is the winded, colder water, filtered off of the hot pool making it only a few degrees cooler.  Each pool is twenty foot by twenty foot cement that has steel poles for handrails and exercise bars within each one.
    There is a campground office that is also a souvenir shop/grocery store which only mark up their supplies slightly higher than you can get in the city grocery stores.
    Behind the office is the Tecopa Public Library where you can sign up for half hour increments of internet service on the three days they are open; Monday, Tuesday, and Thursdays, 7:00 AM to 3:00 PM and where you can check out  books, magazines or DVD’s for up to a week at a time.
    Behind the public library is the fire station and aid car, although I have yet to see any of the volunteer firefighters wandering around while I have been out and about, I really wonder if any of them are under sixty years old, as this truly is a retirement community and I am pretty much a young whippersnapper compared to the general age populace here.
    Across the main road there is the Hurlbut-Rook Community Center where the seniors can go and get a free lunch (if they request it 24 hours in advance) as well as coffee and public services. 
    On Monday, Wednesdays, and Fridays, there is an aerobics class at 9:00 with Richard Simmons doing a cardiovascular workout for seniors via a DVD, while on Tuesdays at 6PM there is bingo for anyone who brings a wrapped food/gift item, which in turns become the prize for winning a bingo game.
    Every two weeks there is a bus for five dollars each way, which will take you to Pahrump, Nevada to do your bi-weekly shopping and to get internet and phone service. I will be on the bus this Thursday as I need a few things I forgot last Saturday when my ‘desert’ friend and I took off in his Sprinter and drove the 29 miles across the state line to get supplies.
     Every Monday and Tuesday are the tours bus days and the days when I avoid going into the pools until much later in the evening.   On these days two or three tour busses will show up between 9 and 11 in the morning full of Asian soakers, each bus holding a full capacity of 50 people.  Not all of the people soak but it is like a pond full of geese when they arrive and take up both pools and both showers. 
     My favorite time to soak has been during dinner time for everyone else.  I have been having an early meal then going to soak and to do evening water exercises that make my muscles tired enough for bed.  The hot water makes my skin warm enough to endure walking back to my van in the windy nights.
    The wildlife around my camp has been interesting as I throw out Herbette’s left over bird seed which has attracted various birds to the camp.
    Before I threw out her first batch I was visited by a road runner.  He wandered around the camp pecking at the ground before dipping over the small ravine that leads down to alkaline flats.
    There is a family of quail that come around every day around four o’clock pecking on the ground for leftovers they are sure will be there now.  They make an odd chirping noise while they eat; their little top feather bobbing around in the wind makes me laugh while I watch them.
     There have been a few ravens that fly high overhead but none seem interested in the wares of the humans in camp.  I also have two ring neck doves that are hungry for leftover seed and don’t mind coming right up to the van to beg for even more.
    Every night the valley below my shallow ravine becomes filled with the sound of hundreds of frogs croaking and creaking somewhere out amongst the wet alkaline marshlands that surround my camp.  It is very peaceful to hear them out there under the stars. 
    If it wasn’t for the gusting wind, this place would be a desert paradise like my friend insist he has found and has now help me find, all while Traveling Thru The Tonda Zone!
     ~Peace~