01-30-11 Just Drive, She said

01-30-11
Just Drive, She said
329 Miles
On this date, 2008, I was let go from my contract with Farmer’s Insurance. That whole “At Will” employment bullshit - like being able to ask your date of birth on the job application or drug tests BEFORE an offer of employment is given. Pure Bullshit!!
My listed last day of employment was 01-31-11, but my last day of work was Thursday January 30th, 2008.
They paid me thru Friday because it was easier to calculate in advance.
And I had actually thought they were going to make me an official “Farmer’s” employee at that meeting.
I was too stunned to do more that say “Ok” and wait for my backpack and jacket to be brought down from my desk. Forget about the other personal items I never got back from inside my desk drawers. Three department managers and an HR person and me. And there was and angry defensiveness about the way they let me go. They acted like they expected some violence from me the way they stood around me at the table while I received the news sitting down.
I’m a big guy and I have been know to be passionate in supporting my views and to “fight” verbally for what I believe in, but violence? Over a job they didn’t want (or apparently appreciate) me for? To What Purpose? When you’re not wanted (either in business or personal relationships), pleading your caseis just a waste of time and emotion. Like Bonnie sang “I can’t make you love me if you don’t’. I can’t make your heart feel something it won’t.”
Anyway, the day was another long drive - mr. toad’s wild drive event. About 136 miles from Page to Flagstaff stopping at Cameron along the way. As I approached Flagstaff I looked at Mischa and said Tolkien’s words “But none of them like the look of the Lonely Mountain”! The big snow covered mountains to the right of the freeway was I thought called “Grey Mountain”and made me worry that this third pass thru Flagstaff would again be slushy and treacherous driving.
Upon attaining Flagstaff I was relieved that I had indeed beat the forecasted storm. But I quickly discarded the idea of a side trip to Winslow/ Been there, done that. Didn’t even need to see the statue.
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Side note - Interviews with two Navaho women selling jewelry on the side of a mountain. Just after leaving Page we came thru a narrow pass with a breath taking view of a looming valley below. I wish I’d taken a picture before I got through the narrows. But I did get several pictures from the “vista point” on the other side.
At that location two Navajo women were selling (or hoping to sell) jewelry fomr their tables.They told me of their presence there. They paid for their spots on the road side. They are part of a cooperative that pool resources to try to mitigate losses and increase profits. Lately it’s been more losses. I asked one of them if she thought things were getting better or worse. “Worse”.
Do you see it getting better soon? “It’s not going to get any better. It was predicted a long time ago. So we just need to learn to expect it and learn to live with it. The Rich will get richer, the poor will get poorer. Nothing we can do.”
“Right now, we would have been busy - but you can’t the weather and gas prices.”:
“I live nearby, she lives about 40 miles down the road. We can’t really find jobs nearby, or else we have to leave town.
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- The wild ride continued -
Going continuously downhill from Falgstaff. Casa Verde - McGuireville rest stop after a turn off to Sedona. Further down, past another chance for Sedona; then an off ramp for Prescott and on and on. I see an off ramp for a campsite called “Dead Horse Campground” I notice the wind and ask a cashier about recent weather - temperature & wind.
She said the wind was a pretty regular thing and it was expected to get colder.
On to Carefree - NE of Flagstaff.
The rest of this scenario I’ll write in noir style.
So I’m looking for the campground called “CCC” for me and the mutt to spend the night. It’s been 298 long miles so far and we’re near journey’s end. It’s 3:30 pm when I pull into the Circle K - Shell.
I was intending to ask directions from the counter help when I see Sheriff parked in a gas lane but not hooked up and he sees me backing into the parking space. It’s been my habit I adopted from being a courier years ago,
Changing course, I for the Sheriff.
Siddeling up to his vehicle, he brings the window down, scrutinizing me.
Buttering him up, I say “You look like a guy who might knows his way around this area!”
A smug grin encompasses his young face and he replies “I do what I can”,
I showed him the AAA guidebook that shows a campground called “CCC”.
Doesn’t sound familiar to him. He calls to a buddy in a dark navy cable knit sweater, giving him a round-ish British Military manner to this son of the Southwest.
“Well, you Could go out there, but there’s a campground just a few miles back - We’re at 44th. Go back to 32nd and head up to the mountain. It’s about two miles…you can’t miss it.” he said. “”I mean, you could drive 12-15 miles out into the boonies…but you could stay here and have all of “this” (indicating the business strip along the comfort highway as “civilization”) nearby!”
I ask “How much is it there? ‘CCC’ is only $4.00.”, being ever so practical
“Oh, not much. Seven dollars, I think” he offered.
He was right. I couldn’t miss it.
But the seven dollar rate was the day use fee. It was $25 to camp for the night. Too rich for my blood.
The couple at the kiosk of the campsite were falling over themselves to help me, doing their best “Fred & Ethel Mertz” routine to boot! The lean woman showed me a map of the Tonto Forest and she found Mesquite & Riverside camps on the map. AAA had listed them but they were a little more expensive and further away.
The Sheriff & his buddy seamed to think “CCC” was near a place called Seven Springs, which she showed me on the map.
And There, above the words “Seven Springs”, looking altogether like a typo or marking for a longitude or a hilltop symbol, were the three letters “C-C-C”.
It was like finding the 3 “6’s” on young Damian’s head. I was both shocked and vindicated. The couple were on the verge of giving me the map, but I was sure I had all I needed to find the place.
Dead wrong.
I drive through “Casa Caves” (reduced speed to 35mph) which looks like the work of that Hispanic artist who paints with vibrant colors and has coyotes in his paintings. Then there’s “Carefree” itself! (Reduced speed to 25!) There is a Shell gas station on the right that “seems” to be the twon’s focus. I ask for directions. A young , Jon Gruden looking , kid says “Just keep going on that road. It’ll fork, but just keep going straight. If you’re heading towards “Seven Springs” - you can’t miss it!”
He underestimated my abilities in misplacement, apparently.
As I drove up the road (doing the posted speed limit) some “Jasper” comes charging up my tailpipe apparently oblivious to the speed limit. I look at his license plate in my rearview. Yup. Arizona plates.
A Side note: I’ve been noticing since Hurricane, Utah that Arizona drivers drive with an arrogance usually reserved for conservative Talk Show Hosts. It doesn’t matter what the posted speed is or even if they are in their own state. These “Jaspers” drive as fast as they want because they are so cocksure of their right to the road…like this jerk behind me!
I find a pull off spot and he zooms past me…for another 100 yards before he turns into a subdivision on the right.
He couldn’t drive the speed limit for another 100 yards? (Dick!)
Anyway, I keep searching for the “CCC” camp and find…nothing.
The sun is starting to go down and I remember seeing a sign that said I need to have a “Tonto Pass” to be anywhere in the Tonto “Forest” (Read “Desert”).
So, I drive ALL the way back to the Shell in Carefree for the pass. (It’s dark now).
Then it’s off to “the Fork” that May lead to the other AAA listed campgrounds. I shoot for “Riverside” because it seemed lower in latitude than the other camp and maybe easier to find in the dark. I’ll never really know. I found Riverside six miles up & down a dirt washboard road. I get there and can “hear” a river, but can’t see it. I’m trying to discern what is and is Not a campsite with my littleLED flashlight when it falls upon a group of guys with two pickup trucks. They jump in their trucks; lights on and follow me towards the exit of the campsite. Like something out of Deliverance!
I loop around , but they continue out of the park.
Bet we never “Camped” that night.
I slept (or tried to) in the car, keeping vigil.