Day 6 - February 3, 1998 - Milepost 1262 - Quartzsite, AZ

(SF). RTENT rocks on its springs as the wind drives through the desert on its way west. Our water is still in good supply but our battery has needed recharging with the generator twice. I am glad it is not cold since the heater would really draw our already weak power. We were told that we can dump and obtain water two miles down the road but to be prepared to get in the queue by 6 AM or the water will be unavailable as it is shut off at 10 AM to refresh the aquifer. The drive back would take hours at bumper to bumper traffic that barely moves along. I think when we need water we will leave. I am happy we chose to stay at this site since we are close enough to walk or bike to anything we want. I would hate to fight the traffic to come into town and then look for a parking place. It is really a zoo. I read that 15,000 people visit the RV tent in a single day and it seems they all are driving a vehicle. For a town that has an official population of around 1100, the flea markets strain their infrastructure. There are only two roads in and two roads out. It is a wonder traffic moves at all. We avoid all this by using our bikes again today. We pedal up to Tyson Wells selling area and spend a few hours walking the area. We bike to the four corners and turn east. There is not much in that direction so after looking at yet another book selling booth, we pedal home. The wind is ferocious and almost gets the better of me before I arrive back. It has begun to rain a bit which should help keep the dust down.

(BF). I've heard Texas snowbirds complain about the Gulf winds in South Texas, but they are mere drafts compared to the gale we face today bicycling between flea markets. I'm glad we had our canopy collapsed overnight or it would have been in shreds by daybreak. The wind carries us without pedaling to the first flea market, but blindsides us toward the second. I find another Dean Koontz novel and now am only missing one of all he has published. On the way back we face the wind head on and I shift to a low gear I usually only use on steep mountain roads. Struggling to maintain balance against the wind I slowly roll forward even though I am on flat pavement. Back in the comfort of our motor home, rain begins to fall and is quickly absorbed by the parched gravel. Only after a few hours of light rain do puddles begin to form. Later in the evening we again try to use our cellular phone, but after an hour of frustration, including calls to a GTE operator and technical support, we still cannot call out to transfer e-mail.

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