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June is notoriously miserable in southwest New Mexico. It’s essentially the doldrums between spring and monsoon season—it’s just hot and dry with no redeeming qualities. So it’s a good time to get out of town and seek higher elevations.
Lo and behold, we had a rare window of opportunity for a short June camping trip in our wacky schedule. We thought, “Great!” But now where do we go within a few hours of home to get out of the heat? We’re still new-ish enough to the area to not have “go-to” locations dialed in.
Then we get a text message from our uber-savvy explorer friends, Dennis & Marion. They found a dispersed location in Apache-Sitgreaves National Forest at over 9,000 feet and within reasonable driving distance. And—bonus!—there was a decent cell signal there which was another crucial factor for us since we couldn’t be entirely off-grid at the time. Hell yeah, we were on board with that!
Not so fast
During the packing process, we were watching the situation with the Trout Fire that had started a few days earlier in the Gila National Forest just north of us. It was growing, uncontained, and evacuation areas were rapidly expanding. The probability of it reaching us was low but definitely not zero.
So we held back a couple of days to see how things progressed. By the time we decided to go, the fire was barely contained. We were uneasy leaving town but realizing there wasn’t much we could do to help.
Sitting around obsessing about fire updates wasn’t useful so we set out with the mindset there was a small chance we wouldn’t be coming home. At least not to an intact house. Getting reports along the way of more and more evacuations inching closer and closer to town didn’t help. But by that point we desperately needed to get out of the smoke as well as the heat.
Spirit guides
And boy was that the right decision. Some fresh air, a distraction from the fire stress, and a beautiful drive helped ramp down our over-stimulated noggins. When we arrived at camp, our friends hadn’t seen our messages that we were finally on the way so we had the added fun of inadvertently surprising them.
Per usual when we follow their lead, the site was fantastic. It was a small nook at the edge of the forest overlooking rolling meadows and knolls. The site is largely used by local cowboys who our pals met before we arrived which is why I’ve unofficially named it Cowboy Camp for our purposes.
A bit breezy
Before we rolled in, they’d been hit by a nasty dust devil that took out Dennis and Marion’s awning on their Class C rig. That was just the beginning. The initial forecast for the nearest town showed winds were going to pick up somewhat but still be manageable, even extrapolating for our more exposed position.
Settling into camp was fine. The first night was fine. We enjoyed a leisurely morning while our friends went for a hike. I did some yoga, busted out my infrared camera for the first time in several years, and got some work done while soaking up the change of scenery. J and Dennis used the time to play with their ham radios while Dennis was off on the hike. It was all very “Aaaaaah, camping!”
Then it all went to shit. The wind kicked up as expected. That wasn’t a surprise. But the original forecast was having a good laugh at us. What we thought would be tolerating a day of strong wind turned into being absolutely blasted for the entire time we had available for the trip.
Fun factor assessment
This is where sometimes equipment makes a big difference in your experience. Our pals were a bit tossed about but had at least gotten some sleep. Ken had his Sprinter van and Marion and Dennis in their Class C rig. But J and I had been awake all night surrounded by the noise of flapping tent material all around us.
Over morning coffee, we huddled in the “garage”—our extra large tent vestibule— trying to keep from being blown all the way to Oklahoma. We looked at each other and said what we were both thinking. We were exhausted and miserable. And there was no relief in sight from the wind.
It turns out our pals felt the same way even in their more protected set ups. Ken decided to head home. Marion and Dennis decided to move to a better location and invited us to join them. But we only had one more night available to us and moving our substantial rigamarole for one night simply isn’t worth it.
So we muddled through a windy breakfast and broke camp. We’re pretty good at managing our situation and gear. But we did take advantage of having extra hands around to help us gather the tent as we broke it down. It was definitely a forget-trying-to-pack-it-properly scenario. It was a just-keep-it-from-blowing-away-and-shove-it-in-the-truck scenario. We could repack it properly back at home.
As for that awning
Of course, even in their Class C, Dennis and Marion were limping home as well. They had to somehow get the damaged awning into their rig to get it home. It certainly wasn’t going to simply fit through the door so Dennis came up with a plan to shove it through the back window. The fellas took care of that project while Marion and I had the supremely tough job of laughing and taking pictures.
Post-mortem
We always learn a little with each trip about what worked and what didn’t with our setup. The tent in the wind was obviously the limiting factor this go-round. Not much we can do about that unless we decide to opt for a teardrop trailer or some such in the future. For now, we may just have to embrace earplugs in the hopes they’ll dampen the noise just enough to get a little bit of sleep under those conditions.
The rest of the story
For more of the story, you can check out Marion’s tale of the adventure on her site.
And here are some bonus pix.
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