So we’re off, having gone from Lake Havasu at 7:10 on Thursday morning, and arriving in Phoenix around noon. A slight motorhome challenge delayed us while still in the city limits of Lake Havasu, when, in the faithful Country Coach motorhome, Jerry discovered the radiator water level to be low. Poured and hosed in water. Voila! Problem solved.
One of the neat things about motor home travel is the option of pulling to the side of the road for meals or snacks should violent hunger strike the occupants of said motor home, and going-down-the-road snacks and sandwiches don’t seem enough. We had eaten no breakfast, having arisen early, and having presented Melina’s birthday present to her. We had discussed driving awhile, then we would stop to eat. Bouse was the place Jerry chose.
Jerry turned on the generator, we ran the air-conditioners, and I actually cooked bacon and eggs. Well, the bacon supply was of such skimpiness that I’m not sure it even counts, but we did have one slim slice each. I cleaned up the dishes, grabbed my camera, and went out the door so that I could preserve the moment.
With all due respect to its founder and to its current residents, I do not believe I would choose to live in Bouse. 🙂
We had scoured the area as we drove so as to select a level place; this spot held promise, as there appeared to be no customers around and we wouldn’t be in the way. From the slatted roof of this structure, cool shadows played on the ground.
I had noted what might be a bird’s nest in the upper reaches of the structure, so I pointed my camera there, but I was a bit disappointed that I wasn’t able to see a mama bird with babies on her nest. I did enjoy looking at the old buildings and loved the name of the area where we stopped: Pricklepear Square.
What sort of people have lived here over the years? I pondered as I walked about. Founded as a mining camp, there are no doubt countless stories of intrigue and drama in what now is just a dusty little place on Arizona State Highway 72.
Why choose to live here? for just a few miles away is Parker, that beautiful little town through which runs the sparkling blue waters of the Colorado, and which is surrounded by jagged, splendid mountains. Interesting. Just a few miles farther is stunning Lake Havasu.
Perhaps it is the solitude, the sense of history…the memory of a culture long gone.