This morning I drove down towards Tikaboo Peak. I was planning on spending a few days, possibly a week or more, in the area. The trees out here in the desert grow at an odd shape and size. It might be due to the lack of abundant water in the area. Also, everything in the desert will bite, poke, or sting you. You learn to stroll through the area always on the lookout.
However, I did not like the spot that was recommended, so I drove back towards Rachel, stopping about a mile away. Unless I’m asked to leave, which is unlikely, I will be spending several days here.
I was going to say that it is very quiet here, but I changed my mind. It would be very quiet if it were not for the jet jockeys visiting at all hours of the day and night. These guys like to get up above the speed of sound, and if you’ve never experienced what that is like from the ground perspective when they fly over, you’re missing out on an experience of a lifetime.
This morning, as I was setting up, one of those Triple F’s (fast flying fuckers) buzzed me. He was so low I could see the pilot. I have not experienced something of that nature since my days in the military. I guess it was his way of saying, “Welcome to the neighborhood.” I’m throwing rocks the next time he shows his face around here.
The view is very peaceful here. If you take a look at my travel map on satellite view, you will see several crop circles. Zoom in on Rachel and you will see that there are farms in the area, and that they irrigate with sprinklers in a circular fashion. It’s quite an amazing contrast with the surrounding desert when you see them. I can actually see some of them from where I am parked on this hill overlooking the small community.
I’m hoping that the fighter jets that patrol the skies around here don’t scare off the aliens. I want to meet one or two of the little guys (at least I hope they’re little guys, or gals) and ask them a few questions—like, maybe what their intentions might be. If they don’t show up, that’s okay with me, too. I can use some peace and quiet for a change.
Good night, Mrs. Jackson, wherever you are.