The QZ Migration

Schizophrenic Personality

Quartzsite, Arizona, is a town with a schizophrenic personality. In summer, the place is a wide, hot, dusty spot beside Interstate 10. Perhaps 3,000 souls call this place home when the July thermometer as much as busts out the top. Truckers on the mainline pull in here to fuel up their rigs, then hurry away, seeking the shelter of the cool Los Angeles smog. Year-rounders—desert rats—mostly come out at night, when the coolness of the evening brings down the mercury to a comfortable 90-something.

Come October and things begin the annual turnaround. Traffic at major highway intersections begins to back up. RV parks reopen. The open desert landscape begins to fill. The snowbirds are beginning to arrive. By January, the town hops. From morning to evening, what few sidewalks there are fill up with wall-to-wall bargain hunters. Vendor tents pop up like fields of flowers after the rare spring rainstorm. Outside of town, virtually tens of thousands of motorhomes and trailers turn the empty desert landscape into a free-form RV park of gigantic proportions.

It's show time.

Hawking Rocks and Staying On

The “discovery” of Quartzsite has its roots in decades past. Here rock hounds and gem collectors pulled their pickup trucks into dusty roadside venues and haggled over minerals and rock hammers. Word got out and each year more and more folks came to ogle the stony specimens. Eventually things formalized and over 35 years ago the annual Quartzite powwow became the principal drawing card of winter visitors.

Today, vendors are still hawking rocks, but there's a lot a more for sale than just minerals and rock-hounding tools. If it can be sold, you'll probably find it at Quartzsite, particularly if it's of interest to RVers. Armed with everything from trinkets to real treasure, vendors and show managers put up the tents to draw in those with money, and those who just come to rubberneck.

For a town that goes from 3,000 in summer to over a million in the winter, you might well wonder—where do they all stay? There are hundreds of RV parks in Quartzite, from the little guy with three “sites” in his back yard, to the huge commercial parks with all the amenities. Outside of town, those with less nomadic viewpoints buy up deeded RV lots, replete with sewer, water, electri c and telephone connections, and genuine Mexican brick surrounding walls (to discourage visits of rattlesnakes in warm weather). But still, there's a finite limit as to how many rigs can be accommodated in “developed” sites.

The rest stay out on the desert. The largest landholder in the area is the Bureau of Land Management (BLM), a federal agency tasked with managing much of Uncle Sam's area real estate. The BLM accommodates tens of thousands of RVers who don't need hookup sites. From free, 14-day stay-limit areas to “Long Term Visitor Area” venues ($25 for two weeks, $140 for the season), the BLM paid and volunteer staff packs 'em in.

Free sounds good, but there are drawbacks. Free doesn't get you water or a place to dump your holding tanks. There are stations in town that will accommodate those primal needs—for a price. Still, plenty of folks who just want to come and enjoy the Quartzsite experience find the 14-day areas a great bargain. Those who opt for paying a few dollars to stay on at the LTVA areas get more perks: Your permit allows you access to fresh water, dump stations, and garbage dumpsters.

It Grows on You

For show goers, there's plenty of action. Rocks and minerals aside, there are plenty of other major attractions, from old car collections to the latest in gadgetry for your RV. But not everyone comes here for the shows.

There's always the weather. Shirtsleeves and sun hats are the order of the day. Old Sol is the principal power provider for many of the snowbirds—you'll see more solar panels per square mile here than practically anyplace else in the RV world. At night, jackets and a firewood pile are the staple for those who enjoy stargazing and yelping back at the coyote chorus. Rain is something you run outside to see, if and when it happens.

Set in the midst of the Sonora Desert, Quartzsite has its own peculiar beauty that most first-timers will tell you, “kinda grows on you.” There are plenty of sightseeing venues—the local chamber office distributes a map with dozens of places to visit. Or jump in the toad car and cruise south to Mexico. In less than two hours you can park your car in the U.S. and walk across the border. Border towns like Los Algadones and San Luis love the gringo and his American dollar. Bargains, good meals, and the genuine warmth of the Mexican people are great drawing cards.

But it all ends too quickly. The vendors eventually pack up their wares. The show tents are folded up and carted away. A huge RV park is transformed back into an odd and dusty golf course. Truck stop waitresses return to hobnobbing with long haulers instead of rushing from table to table.

The locals come out at night. And they wait for the return of the snowbirds.