Temperatures are rising in our nearby deserts with current average highs over 100o, so it was time to catch the mountains before they also become too hot for us.
Our F-250 easily towed our 23′ Safari up from the Pacific Coast to our favorite wooded mountain campsite in the Cuyamaca Mountains, near Julian, California, at an elevation of 4200′.
Julian, located in a mixed pine-oak woodland, was the seasonal home to the Native American Kumeyaay people, who were displaced after the American Civil War by displaced Confederate Veterans from Georgia.
We strategically backed the trailer into the sun for the solar panels and parked the unhitched truck near the shade, where we and the Corgis often relaxed and chilled out during the heat of the day.
We raised the American flag high in honor of Flag Day.
We bring a large cooler filled with food and ice on every trip, which we usually take out of the truck and place in a shady area. But it periodically had to be moved out of the moving sun or protected from night creatures, such as raccoons in this case. So we found that it is more convenient (and the ice lasts longer) to leave it in the truck cargo area with the Retrax locking cover retracted for ventilation and cover it with a large truck sun shade to keep it cool.
Since we had five nights reserved here, I brought along our REI dome tent that I had brought out here two years ago and set it up to relive the joys of tent camping and being close to nature and the elements, at least for a night or two (this might become an annual event). The Tiki, which we renamed “Iz“, also came along to enjoy the elements, especially the sun, which almost always makes him high.
This campground is known for its wild turkeys, and one morning I found one that likes to take a walk in the sun.
Later in the day, jumbo shrimp, bell peppers, onions, and leftover salsa fresca were stir fried on the Volcano 2 stove using the propane attachment. As the sun set, we sipped Kahlúa in half and half cream in sherry glasses while we were entertained by bats dancing through the sky in search of insects.
Tasha and I spent two nights in a row in the dome tent guarded by Iz.
We listened to the evening breezes rustling through the hillside forest trees, sounding like the ocean surf at times, as the first quarter of the Strawberry Moon slowly descended the western night sky.
We awoke at first light to the chorus of morning bird songs as our midsummer night’s dreams lingered in our minds.
