I have seen a lot of places in my life, but until this January– I never seen a town built up entirely of and around people on wheels.
Quartzite, Arizona, had us agape from the get-go. Just before reaching town, my mouth fell open– as in the distance, extending in every direction, I saw homes on wheels as far as I could see. Scattered and dotted throughout the dry brown dirt were gleams of white, tan, and silver roofs of RVs, camper vans, minivans, cars, and converted buses.
The picture below barely does it justice– as this same image repeated over and over up into hills and valleys extending from the town. Every winter, about 250,000 to 500,000 people bring their homes on wheels to Arizona for the dry climate and mild winters. This is a town of only 3,500 permanent residents, if that helps to give you a sense of scale.
What else brings people on wheels here? Affordable living.
Quartzite is bordered by Bureau of Land Management (BLM) land on all sides, which means free camping for as long as people like– on BLM land, anyone can stay for 14 days free. On the honor system, they move on the 15th day, usually to other patches of BLM land nearby. The rule is simply that one can’t stay in the same spot for more than two weeks.
That factor creates a strange brew of folks– those who have few choices (e.g. retirees on a fixed income, people who live in their cars because that is their only option) mix with folks who have many choices (e.g. retirees with plenty of capital, working professionals who take their businesses mobile, wealthy folks with flashy RVs, etc.). But due to the uniting factor of living in a vehicle– whether a cushy vehicle or one that has seen better days– everyone in Quartzite shares space and swaps stories easily.
As referenced in the book Nomadland, this is a place where a $300 vehicle can quite literally be parked next to a $300,000 vehicle, and inevitably, the inhabitants would be sharing information with each other about great places to travel next. Yes, if the name Quartzite sounded familiar, it was featured in both the book and movie. And within 5 minutes of getting to town, it was clear why.
On arrival, we were greeted by rows of huge tents– a showcase of sorts. And signs beckoning from every which way, advertising goods specifically for living one’s life on the road: smaller kitchen gadgets, portable solar panels, decorative lights for rigs, and so on. It was an overwhelming amount of stuff– like a perpetual sidewalk sale, cases and crates open to browse.
Some items were old, some were new, some were rusted right through– and like a swap meet, there was something for every kind of person and every kind of need. And a few things that were head-scratchers, but were probably somebody’s jam.
The town was built for and by folks on wheels– so services for these mobile homes were prevalent. Laundromats, water filling stations, dump stations– with plenty of parking at each. Since the town was not large enough, no chain stores like Wal-Mart or even a grocery store were around– so even groceries were sold wholesale out of tents.
Moon nailed it when she mused on the welcoming feeling of these home-on-wheels-specific services: she recalled all the places we’d been in the last months in which it was logistically difficult to get our needs met– water filled, tanks dumped, parking lots where people scowled at the van– it felt like a relief to just be understood and unregarded by everyone around town.
Moon said that it felt like an underground location that felt like discovering a lost civilization of sorts. Something that had been there all along, but included a totally different way of life than we had previously seen.
For some folks, ‘Nomadland’ was just a good movie. For others, like Moon and especially me– we watched it and thought, “We could probably do that.” And that is what brought us to town– the famous Rubber Tramp Rendevous (RTR) from the book and film. Bob Wells, the legendary inceptor of this event, began it in 2010 with about 50 attendees, and it now draws 5,000.
Moon and I were looking to meet more people on wheels, but 5,000 seemed a bit ‘much’– we felt it might be overwhelming– thus, opted to attend the Women’s RTR event, taking place in the days just before the main event. Plus, the panel content was much more applicable– they offered a Safety on the Road panel, a Weather panel, and other extremely useful topics.
The Women’s RTR was a much more relaxed event than the full RTR, which we appreciated. The “Burning Van” — a wooden van which would be tossed into the bonfire later that week, was present for everyone to sign. We added our “Starship” moniker.
At this event, I learned that many more women travel solo than I ever could have imagined. And also, that many women who live on the road are introverts– coming together once a year for the event, but preferring the solitude of their own adventures most of the rest of the year. I had huge respect for everyone older than me– especially those with mobility issues or health issues or financial restraints– who were still putting miles on their vehicles and seeing the country, despite some steep challenges.
As Moon said, it reminded us both that there are innumerable ways to live– nobody told these ladies that retirement meant easy chairs, patting grandchildren’s heads, and watching The Price is Right. They chose a totally different path, and anyone could do the same. That was what resonated most– the reminder that ‘THE’ path is just a mild suggestion at any age of life. Even retirement.
The RTR shared some aspects of ‘Summer Camp’ for folks who are deeply introverted. but still want to get to know one another. Organized activities, such as games and puzzles (!) and crafts were all around, staffed with volunteers. I was immediately drawn to the puzzles, which I built with a variety of women who introduced themselves before musing aloud how much they missed puzzles on the road. As a Puzzle Person myself, I felt the same– it’s an activity that just doesn’t work in small, rolling spaces.
One of the aspects of RTR that was helpful was the Free Table, a place where people distributed unwanted goods that others might have use for, as well as the Big Board, which had index cards which people wrote on to share everything from safety tips to ‘offers’ — handyperson skills or other skills they could share with others. The sense of community was lovely, and I was lucky enough to receive some of my best tips on safety, apps, possible destinations, and good hikes from the women gathered there.
In my time on the road, I have also learned that people who live on wheels are often “Pet People” in every sense of the word. And people had found ways to travel in vehicles full-time with pets like chickens, cats, snakes, turtles, and even… a pot-bellied pig. Mac was so enthusiastic meeting this pig, who walked on a leash just like he did. If you are wondering about the logistics of living on the road with chickens or a pig or a snake, well– so was I. And these women were happy to answer.
Then, someone asked if we’d been to the Gem Show. And we realized there were miles of tents with wares we had yet to see.
The Quartzite Gem Show was spread out over miles of campgrounds and land, with each area of vendors having its own flavor. Some priced for the cheap-and-cheerful, others priced for those treating stones like an investment. We saw rocks ranging from $2 to $25,000 in price– and I’m sure some went upward from there. Vendors hailed from Australia, Nigeria, New Zealand, and Switzerland– and from nearly every state in the union, all which had their own native stones to brag about.
To say it was overwhelming was an understatement. Row after row tended to blend together to my untrained eye, and while Moon was at-home picking from exotic stone fragments, I was lost– not understanding the difference from one to another.
Apparently, the Gem Shows of Arizona are quite famous– one in Tucson is said to be the largest. It was an absolute wonder to see how many different stones existed in the world, and even the ways people polished them differed from one stand to another.
The best part of being in Quartzite wasn’t the nascent town, though, it was the wide open space for free camping each night. Moon and I worked to find a place that felt far enough from others without being completely isolated, and always looked for a view. We switched it up every couple nights, looking for a place of our own.
Bedding down and waking up with the expanse of nature surrounding you is ALWAYS the best part of living in a van, and in the twilight and dawn, hearing the silence in every direction was a blessing.
Our favorite camping spot was just about 30 minutes out of town, requiring some off-roading to get there for about 20 of those minutes. That meant the bigger RVs could not reach the spot easily, which isolated us more. We camped at the face of Kofa Mountain and enjoyed the setting sun.
Of course, Quartzite got its name from Quartz, and it was so plentiful on the ground– scattered in and among all the surface stones– that we spent some idle time making a little pile of the stuff. At certain times of day, it seemed the dirt itself shone.
We got to do a short hike in the reserve, the Kofa area was a great reminder that many beautiful places are managed by the state, not the national parks systems. This hike was famous for an inexplicable grove of barely-visible palms that grew on the sharp cliff faces below, near the very top where the light hit. Science couldn’t quite explain how they got there, mirroring one of Moon’s favorite things– she calls her obsession “Plants that Grow in Improbable Places.” And these palms were one of them.
Mac, Moon, and I enjoyed scrambling around the rocks, despite it being a short hike. Quartzite isn’t much for hiking– though it is not far from areas that have what I would define as “hikes” rather than “walks.” With Quartzite being so flat (good flat land for placing lots of wintering vehicles), it wasn’t exactly a hiker’s paradise. But other spots in Arizona are the natural destinations– Quartzite is more a place to ride out the winter on wheels.
Because it didn’t have a bunch of hiking destinations and few businesses, we did get a little stir crazy after a few days. While there were plenty of activities for seniors, including an active senior center with Bingo and even Speed Dating– a few locals jokes that we were about 20-30 years too young to be there.
Our last evening in Quartzite, we hit up “Beer Belly’s Adult Daycare,” which was characteristically outdoors, and shoved between some shipping containers in the back of an expo. A septuagenarian and his wife were playing a John Denver tune– their band, called the “Young Kidz” — provided a backdrop of 70s classics to drink to. The bar was hardly rowdy, just a bunch of retirees kicking back, enjoying the ability to take their house on wheels into the desert for free camping all winter long.
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