Friday June 28. We just stopped at a little roadside chapel near Yuma, Arizona. I'm pretty sure I've been in closets bigger than this place. As we were driving by, Colin said, "Look at the cute mini church!" Then we passed the sign next to the driveway beckoning us inside:
Colin pulled a quick u-turn and drove back. The place didn't look any bigger up close.
We went inside and said a prayer of thanks for having made it this far in our journey and asked God to guide us the rest of the way in our travels and our future endeavors. Then we signed the guestbook and left.
We're now driving through southwestern Arizona after having spent the night at a free campsite near Yuma Proving Ground. (We could hear the artillery fire all night.) We had left Sarah and Mike's house yesterday morning after a tearful goodbye and drove straight through New Mexico to Saguaro National Forest near Tucson, Arizona.
We decided this would be the last tourist stop we'd make on our way to San Diego, and I don't think either of us were the least bit sad about it--all this traveling has been exhausting, and even after decompressing at my sister's house for a few days, I'm just as eager (if not more so) to get to our final resting stop so we can unload our belongings and not have to live out of the car and our duffel bags.
The sun was setting as we left Saguaro and we were facing a six-hour drive to Kevin's apartment in San Diego. We considered powering through it at Kevin's urging, but eventually concluded it would be much wiser to set up camp somewhere along our route before it got too late and then drive to San Diego the next morning. Plus, FreeCampsites.net was showing us dozens of spots right along Interstate 8 (the same road that was taking us straight through Arizona to San Diego), so we should have no problem finding a place to rest for the night, right?
Wrong. As I began to research these spots--many of them BLM lands in the southernmost deserts of the country--I learned that the price tag probably wasn't worth the risk. After reading several cautionary tales from campers who'd taken the risk and lived to tell about it, I learned that any of those open lands south of the highway were highly trafficked by drug smugglers and other highly unsavory individuals who have reason to lurk near the United States-Mexico border under nighttime's cover. Finding a "safe" place--i.e. one where we're less susceptible to robbery, kidnapping, rape or murder--would mean driving a bit north of the highway. This left us with considerably fewer options, which was how we found ourselves right next to a military weapons testing facility.
By the time we'd arrived at the campsite, which was near a fishing lake and had no designated camping areas (let alone toilets or potable water), it was pitch dark and the temperature had dropped to the high 90s. We fell asleep quickly, despite the not-so-distant thunder of munitions discharge, and were woken by the sun scorching our tent at 7am. I've never been so hot at such an early hour. We packed up and started the car, which was when I saw the digital temperature reading of 103 degrees. It wasn't even 8am and we were already in triple digits. Once again, I was feeling so grateful that this 2000 Buick had made it almost entirely across the country with a fully functional A/C system.
Since we've been on the road today, I've watched the temperature climb and climb as we drive through miles and miles of dry desert. I'm not sure where we are in relation to Death Valley, but we must be pretty close.
(And yes, the clock reflects local time. This is the highest temperature I've ever seen before noon.)
Only a couple hundred miles to go before we reach the Pacific Ocean!
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