Thanks, Darlene.
What’s up from Apache Junction, Arizona! Never heard of it? Understandable. It’s a small town right outside of Phoenix, at the base of the Superstition Mountains. And it’s definitely an… interesting place. But I’ve been down here for two weeks now, and I’m absolutely loving every minute of it.
I know, I promised from day one that this wouldn’t be a travel blog. And it isn’t- I promise I’m not going to rank all the McDonalds’ in order from best to worst McChicken or tell you where to find the nicest Planet Fitness. But I do think it’s worth writing about- because it’s possible that Sheila and I have found our people. And because this place is just entertaining as hell.
I knew from the moment we drove into town that I would fit in here. The RV storage lots with broken windows, countless old men on motorcycles, and generally lawless vibe it gave off made me feel right at home. Apache Junction is a desert town. It’s mainly made up of trailer parks, RV “resorts,” and other, individually parked trailers. There is a Saloon called the “Hitching Post”- a place I still haven’t visited but can’t wait to see the inside of. It’s small enough that the streets aren’t usually too busy, but it also has everything I could possibly need (WalMart, Planet Fitness, and Dollar General). And the BLM land I am parked on is a 5 minute drive at most from beautiful hiking and trail running. But the moment I realized that I would actually fit in here came last night as I was cooking rice in my JetBoil.
Suddenly, the loud rumble of a motorcycle made me look up from my instant rice, only to see a single person riding by slowly, looking in my direction. Excited to finally have an encounter with one of the locals, I waved. But then, much to my surprise, they reacted by turning their motorcycle towards me and slowly riding over. “Oh shit…” I thought to myself. “I really need to stop waving at strangers.” But it was too late. And as she approached (and I realized they were in fact a “she”), the full picture came together. I never caught her name, but in the spirit of Apache Junction, I’m going to call this woman Darlene.
As Darlene got closer, I started to make out her outfit- a large leather jacket, pink dew rag tied under her helmet, hair so short I couldn’t see it under the bandana, sequined shirt and motorcycle pants. Her eyes were hidden behind extremely large (and also bejeweled) sunglasses. Slowing down as she rode up to my open side door, she shouted “You know where Silver is?!” Hmm.. I hadn’t met anyone in my little trailer park yet, but I racked my brain trying to remember if I had even seen anyone that looked like their name could be silver. I hadn’t. “No, I’m sorry!” I shouted over her still-running motorcycle. “Ah, that’s alright!” She yelled. “You got a cigarette?!” Well, as a matter of fact I did. I gave her one of my old, stale Marlboro Lights and a lighter, and as she sat in front of my van smoking we chatted about her dog, about camping around here and how she was nervous to sleep in a tent because of the coyotes, and about a few of the other neighbors I hadn’t met yet- Nick, a small hispanic man who apparently gets rides from Silver, and another woman with a white dog whose name I can’t remember.
Finishing her cigarette, Darlene asked if I had seen any other campers in the area, to which I pointed her down the road and said that I had seen a few others in that direction. After telling me that she would blame me if her motorcycle got buried in the dirt, to which I promised that if I had directed her into a ditch I would happily tow her out, she rode off, I can only assume still in search of Silver. And as I watched her ride away, I smiled harder than I had all day. Darlene was a character. And I loved it.
Classy people make me uncomfortable. They always have an air about them as though they have something extremely condescending to say, but are refraining from saying it due some desperate need to conform to the “rules” of polite conversation. But not Darlene. I have no doubt that she says exactly what’s on her mind, rules of polite conversation be damned. And I respect the hell out of people like her. Sure, they are a little rough around the edges, but they are unapologetically themselves- something the world could use a hell of a lot more of, if you ask me. And something I wish I had a little more of myself. So thanks Darlene for making my day. And if they’re anything like her, I can’t wait to meet the rest of my new neighbors. Because anywhere with a vibe like Apache Junction is a place I wouldn’t mind being a part of- even just for a winter. Maybe I’ll even meet Silver someday.
