This may not come as a surprise to you, but we often talk about & think about food. Some would say excessively so, but I don’t think we’re alone. We do maybe dwell a little excessively on pizza talk. Perhaps because the thought of perfectly cooked pizza dough, crust puffed up, crispy underneath, garlicky tomato sauce, gooey buffalo mozzarella (oozing and dangling from each slice), drizzled generously with olive oil… is the food of gods. Or perhaps because it’s normally one too many steps removed from a camping experience. The unattainable or elusive is often the most desired.
Elusive that is, until now. Let me (…Entertain you… sorry, Robbie Williams just got in the way). No no no, Let me Introduce you… To Uuni. Wood fired pizza oven extraordinaire. In fact, so extraordinaire, it is (a) portable, i.e. Interpret as ‘can come camping’, and (b) matches the Basecamp. Practically long lost twins, separated at birth.
Pizza, whilst camping, takes a tad more forethought than your average camping one-pot.
Making progress on the organization front, loving the toppings organizer.
But good things come to those who wait!
And was it worth the effort… well, what do you think?
Whilst this was a non-designated camping spot, there were a few other campers nearby. A few in tents (poor chilly souls! I remember it well). But then a nearby RV made a statement with their outdoor area. “I’ll take your wood-fired pizza oven and I’ll raise you one”. Next thing we knew… an open air movie theatre!
Can’t quite compete with movies under the stars. iPad in bed will have to do for us.
Only 2 weeks to go before my half marathon meant camping in the desert is no excuse for not running in the morning.
After a hearty bacon and mushroom scramble (prepared indoors, no gloves required), a trip to the visitor center was in order, where we were reliably informed that the difference (or maybe ‘a’ difference, not sure there’s only one) between a National Park and a National Preserve is that the Preserve allows hunting (oh and by the way, it’s hunting season). I was immediately scanning for hunters, ready to give them my scornful ‘seriously???’ look. I wasn’t really paying attention, but the rangers also mentioned something about dodgy roads.
We’d already endured one allegedly ‘rough road’ in Mojave.
When we subsequently reached a 4×4 only sign, there was a lot of deliberation before we concluded the ‘rough road’ could probably get worse. We were just about to bottle it and strategize as to the best way to turn around, when a truck came along from the direction we were headed. Apologizing for virtually blocking the road, we politely enquired as to the state of the road ahead. We were given assurances galore, (in between the driver getting out to remark on what a cool little Airstream we had, enthusiastically snapping pictures of the Basecamp) and so we forged ahead, our confidence bolstered.
The next hour was spent gritting our teeth, clinging on to our seatbelts and wishing we’d done a better job of checking everything in the back was ship shape. My heart was in my mouth as we hauled our way up the narrow, washed out, sandy trail, fingers crossed we wouldn’t meet any other vehicles approaching the blind summit. Relieved to finally reach the primitive campground, we were decidedly going no further that night. A few items dislodged but no damages in the back, maybe the BC IS as hardy as it’s cracked up to be!
A couple more hikes rounded off our Mojave experience. The first: one of those ‘no path’ walks where you’re just meandering. Our route took us towards a big pile of rocks (a very big pile of rocks), constantly alert for spiky cacti needles and snakes. And very cool views across the vast expanse of the preserve.
That pile of rocks behind me is actually way in the distance and much bigger than it looks!
Our final walk was a one mile ‘hike’ (big deal, how can you even call one mile a hike?). However… This one should have come with serious disclaimers. Slight issue of a canyon in the way. Of the swiss cheese variety.
Go Darren!
Some considerate soul had graciously thought ahead, and hammered permanent steel pinions into the rock to aide the casual walker in clambering up the sheer rock faces.
I wouldn’t quite class myself as the casual walker. More like a weeble (the type that wobble but allegedly don’t fall down), certainly height-challenged and lacking in upper arm strength.
Not a smile, that’s gritted teeth!
Whoever put these damn pinions in was for sure, not 5 foot 4. Darren persisted with the encouraging ‘you can do it’ route, before eventually resorting to lowering himself back down to give me a little helping hand from below… the grunt and shove move with traction seemed to do the trick a little better (I knew that cross-fit training would eventually come to some use!). Job done, hike done, and homeward bound!