YUMA

Driving south from Goldfield I began to see Yucca trees. Here’s a forest of them.
Poston, Arizona on the banks of the Colorado River
This area, within a large radius of Yuma is some of the most productive farm land in America… and the money is made on the backs of Mexican immigrants, legal or not. The extravagant farm owner’s houses tell the story. so do the grim barrios where the workers are housed.

 

Driving toward Yuma from the west, you must pass through Quartzsite, the biggest flea market I’ve ever seen.
It’s a mess to get through
Everything imaginable is for sale
I mean everything! This is a Bell 47 J2A. I worked on these when I was an apprentice helicopter mechanic. I still love this model.
Tens of thousands of RVs park in the desert. It is called “Dry Camping”
Yuma bound
Snowbirdville
Hundreds of thousands of northerners spend their winter here, just like this.
Old cars are a passion here. This, I believe, is a 1940 Ford
In a Yuma backyard. The grapefruit just fall and lay on the lawn. They are $3 each back home.
A Yuma weed growing beside the sidewalk. Dates are smeared all over the concrete.
Yet another Yuma suburban scene
WEEDS!
Colorado River dawn. It looks kind of biblical!
The Mormon Battalion once passed through here to fight the Mexicans. This is a commemorative statue in the adjacent park.
I liked the poem.
Nobody home.
January flowers. There are wonderful colours, alien to me, which bloom everywhere.
Respect!
Outspoken
Still working after all these years
Waiting for parts

Re-radial low profile tires
Dry dawn
Thirsty
Thinking green? Recycling is clearly a novel idea here. It looks a lot like Mexico!
Super mannequin
Studebaker Bullet Nose
Nearly 70 years old and still ahead of its time!
My Mexican laundry.
Anything for a buck. Mexican enterprise.
First coffee and finally… a selfie stick!
RV Park dawn. Up before the quail to catch up on my blogging. The stars are magnificent here. Five hours later, it is getting too bright to see the computer screen. Time to move on. Desert Ho!

 

In my last blog, I described Yuma well enough. It is a massive sprawling agricultural barrio with non-stop trains, howling freeway and endless military flights. Look there goes another F69! I’ve stayed in the same RV park for four nights while repairs were made and while visiting friends from my marina in Ladysmith. John and Lynne are seasoned snow birds and have pampered me wonderfully. Now it is time to move on. This RV park is nestled on the southern bank of the Colorado River, immediately adjacent to an amazing park built on the reclaimed land of a huge garbage dump. Here are some of my photographic impressions of the drive into Yuma and of my last four days here. I’ll post this blog and then move on into the raw desert.

“ If you tell the truth, you don’t have to remember anything.” …Mark Twain

Author: Fred Bailey

Fred is a slightly-past middle age sailor / writer / photographer with plenty of eclectic hands-on skills and experiences. Some would describe him as the old hippy who doesn't know the war is over. He is certainly reluctant to grow up and readily admits to being the eternal dreamer. He has written several books including two novels, 'The Keeper' and 'Storm Ecstasy,' as well as 'The Water Rushing By', 'Sins Of The Fathers', 'The Magic Stick', as well as an extensive inventory of poetry, essays, short stories, anecdotes and photographs. His first passion is the ocean, sailboats, voyaging and all those people who are similarly drawn to the sea. He lives aboard 'Seafire' the boat he is refitting to go voyaging, exploring new horizons both inner and outer. This blog is about that voyage and the preparations for it. In spite of the odds against it, the plan is to sail away this fall and lay a course southward. If you follow this blog your interest may provide some of the energy that helps fuel the journey. Namaste Contact him at svpaxboat@gmail.com

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