One day a huge, expensive police SUV (not border patrol) dropped in at my campsite near the Santa Rita mountains, south of Tucson. Out jumped two large cops, dressed head-to-toe in black. They had belts loaded up with so much armament it's a wonder then can sit down in their patrol car and buckle their seat belts. They were friendly enough and even enjoyed the antics of my Australian kelpie, Coffee Girl. But it bothered me the way one officer kept his hand on his gun the entire time he talked to me, while the other one snooped around my trailer. They said they were just doing a routine patrol, and wondered if I had seen any suspicious activities. I hadn't, so off they went.
The next day I was stretching my legs by walking up to the top of a small volcanic knoll. I saw a dense cluster of bright red blinking lights nearby. What could they be? Safety lights on a piece of construction equipment? Binoculars didn't help because they wiggled too much in the wind.
Of course we all know that once an idea is implanted into a guy's mind, he sees what he is looking for. So I was reluctant to call the police about this weird cluster of red lights in the desert, lest it prove to be a nuisance call by a nervous Nellie.
Finally I did call, and an officer came out. This one was dressed like a normal police officer of pre-9/11 America. He had excellent eyes and identified the "mysterious" object as a red balloon! The last 24 hours had been windy and the balloon had blown in from somewhere, as unlikely as that was. With the sun's angle hitting it just right, and the wind buffeting the partially deflated surface of the balloon, it looked like bright blinking red lights.
He was kind to me by showing a sense of humor about this false call. Still, I'm glad that I don't have to read any paperwork that he filed on this "incident." In my defense, I am camped alone pretty close to the Mexican border, on a through road that heads to a major city. And I don't have a gun.
The next morning I heard the whirring of a helicopter. It was searching for someone one dry-wash away from where Coffee Girl and I take our sunset hikes. Hmm... maybe I shouldn't go into dry washes in the mountains around here. Then again, the helicopter might have just been a border patrol pilot getting in some practice time.
Later I leashed the Girl up, jumped on the mountain bike, and cycled some dirt roads near an old mining town. I saw some dark-haired young males cross the road a half mile in front of me. Illegals? Maybe I should call border patrol. Then again, maybe I shouldn't; I'd already made of fool of myself once. As it turned out it was a group of (non-Mexican) locals looking for "Pete-y", a pit bull that had wandered off the previous night. They assured me that Pete-y was a real snuggle-bunny -- they all say that! But given my recent luck with pit bulls, Coffee Girl and I turned tail and went back to camp, despite having pepper spray along. Wind is always problematic with pepper spray. Why didn't I ask the police officers about when and when not to use it?
Over the years people have asked whether I camped with a gun. I don't, primarily because I'm too lazy to keep up-to-date with all the regulations about guns; and I fear the amerikanisch police state more than banditos and drug smugglers. But maybe I'd be a little braver if I was camped with more than a cellphone, pepper spray, and hammer near the trailer door.
Comments
Yesterday 5 of us went hiking to I8 and back, about 4 miles. On the way back we were met by 4 Border Patrol vehicles who almost surrounded us. It seems someone driving on the Interstate spotted us walking in the desert and just knew for a fact that we were illegals.
Remember that the same person who sees boondocking as dangerous thinks nothing of playing chicken at ten tricky left-turns per day in hectic metropolitan traffic.
Jim Melvin, did the Border Patrol tax-suckers draw their guns on you?
Anonymous, I don't know of any real statistics. Hearsay doesn't count, since it feeds off of Media stories, and the Media is just part of the Entertainment industry.
Anecdotally there seem to be fewer border patrol SUVs around.
I sometimes wonder if a gun would actually do any good.
But I know of no one who has even been victimized when camping alone. I, on the other hand, was physically threatened when camping in an RV park in Silver City, NM. A couple days later, I decided to get back on the road.