Processing all my feelings about my time at RTR is not easy. It was a non-stop multi-level experience. I am 100% glad I went. Everyone I met had a unique story, every path varied. Many, like me, came for the first time, eager to listen, learn, meet. Others, who have come every year since it started, were very welcoming.
I witnessed a strong, confident and satisfied community, all caring for each other. Some exuded quiet happiness and others were quick with laughter and jovial camaraderie. It seemed like all were willing to share their experiences -- the good, the bad and the foolish -- all from which comes that wonderful thing we call wisdom. I saw some gift hours, even whole days, of skilled service to others in need, and it was humbling to see that at least there, no bump in the road would be insurmountable, and difficult situations would have the best chances of positive solutions.
The two-week gathering provided enough planned events to bring people together, but also provided a very comfortable time frame for everyone to wander the camps, connecting with friends and making new acquaintances. People came and went every day, making trips into town for supplies for themselves and others, visiting vendors, and tending to rig maintenance - high on the priority list. Privacy was respected, and pets were, for the greater part, well-controlled and clearly were well-loved.
I was so surprised to see so much gravel everywhere! Well, duh... I guess it's called Quartzsite for a reason. But the road in to the camping site was very well graded, and all the high ground between the washes was packed with gravel, making for some very level parking spots.
I had difficulty the first several days adjusting the alarm clock in my head, but finally was able to wake with the sun and for the most part was ready to wind down after sunset. With only about 9-10 daylight hours, it's easy to see why people want to make the most of them, and these two weeks were full of sunshine and mild temperatures.
On leaving RTR, I stopped by the Ehrenberg site for a short stay. Just over 20 miles west of the RTR site, its level areas are gravel-packed as far as the eye can see. I found a spot on the eastern edge of what looked like a runway a Boeing could land on. At twilight, a slivered moon hung with Venus over the lights of Blythe on the western horizon, while to the east of me lay desert. Not a gathering, but a wintering spot, rigs parked at the Ehrenberg site are spaced farther apart, giving everyone privacy and quiet. Every now and then someone might appear in the distance, walking their dog, or a rig might drive by on its way to town or perhaps just to visit someone else. Here I experienced a glimmer of what it might feel like to be a full-timer, to live this every day, if not here, somewhere. I felt the aloneness that I knew could turn into loneliness if not managed. I also felt myself relax, and my mind turned from my recent two-week social date to more introspective thoughts... practical tasks to make my space more comfortable or to maintain cleanliness and order, imaginative thoughts to feed the need for art and music and creativity, and soul-searching thoughts to see what lay there that might merit my attention. Eventually, I allowed my brain to remember that I did have commitments back at home, and it was time to take the van out of park and head north.
I treasure my experience and all the people I had the good fortune to meet.