Sunday, March 1, 2015
I believe this is the first day in the two winters I have been in the southwest that it rained all day and I was stuck inside. It quickly brings back memories of all the winter days back home when I was locked inside by inclement weather.
Here are few more photos I took yesterday on my drive in.
As I sat here today, I would occasionally look out my window and see drab young people walking about in the rain.
I saw four people sludge through the mud to their tent in the field behind me. Soon, I saw all four walking back carrying blankets and sleeping bags as they headed through the muddy field, across the road to an old motorhome. Evidently, the rain and cold had given them the courage to move in with a friend with better living conditions for this climate.
Near my motorhome there is a car with darkened windows. It was there yesterday and has been all day today. I hear the engine running when I take Yuma for his walks. I wonder how a person can live day after day in a car. I guess, I had best not complain. I live in luxury by comparison.
I briefly think I should offer the occupant or occupants if they would like a cup of coffee, but then my better judgment tells me to mind my own business and only offer assistance if asked. So Yuma and I walk on by.
It is times like these that Slab City looks its worse. The skies are grey; the plants are grey, and the mud is grey and everywhere. Dampness prevails around here. There is very little movement as everyone hunkers down; waiting for the healing rays of the sun.
Early, this morning, while taking Yuma for his walk, I photographed some of the underbelly of the “city” in the muddy field beyond the slab near my motorhome.
It would be easy for me to judge and say, “Look at this mess! Why don’t you clean it up?” But then I realize what I am really saying is “Lets get some rules around here. We need to make these people do what is right.”
So, as an outsider, I need to look at Slab City as what it is, and not what I think it should be. Who am I to say what is right and what is wrong. It is not my place to judge. Enough said.
Last evening as I was taking Yuma for his evening walk, I could hear a siren off in the distance. It came ever closer, and soon a fire truck roared by on the road near my camp. It went on a little further up the road and the siren stopped.
Then a car with siren blaring and lights flaring, roared by following the fire truck.
I wonder if someone needed medical assistance? Was there a fire? Who pays for it, since these people are squatters, pay no taxes and have no paid services? Probably never know these answers.
I picked a great place to stay if I like music. Last night just after sundown, the singing and the band started up. I found that I live next door to “The Range”.
On Saturday nights, they have a band and people get up and sing. Unfortunately, I didn’t go over to find out exactly what was going on, but they sounded like they were enjoying themselves. Their fun did not bother me at all. After all, I am only a guest.
Watched several hours of TV and read my book today. That was pretty much my day. Hopefully, tomorrow I can get out and see more of the beauty of the “city”.
See you later.