We Need To Leave And Go Home

The thought of going home early has been mentioned on and off over the last couple of weeks, but it took my headaches getting more intense and prevalent.

I have avoided talking about it earlier here, but since early January I have been plagued with ongoing steady headaches. Everybody gets a headache now and then but usually it is short-lived. Mine persisted and if it hadn't been for Ibuprofen we would have gone earlier yet.

Clearly, something is wrong and it needs to be evaluated - at home, where we have free healthcare.

Sooo today was the last day for us here at the Holtville Hot Springs. We hate to miss out on our last 6 weeks of winter stay, but it can't be helped.

This day had its own full agenda, as we needed to dump waste water, get fresh water and get a few things in Holtville.

Returning to camp, we hitched on the trailer and gathered all our stuff we had spread around the place, then stowing it away in the motorhome.

After lunch we loaded the car, always a job to be taken seriously, with all the tie-downs in the right places.

A light check turned out all lights working, so now we could relax.

Our neighbours, Annie and Rick came over for a last chat and say Good Bye. They had barely sat down when more people appeared. There was James from New Mexico, Jurgen, a wandering nomad from Germany, Roberta, Anne and Peter (another Peter) all from Alberta, Canada.

Talking about life in Camp and exchanging memories from past years is what camper friends do when they meet.

Besides of our friends, Dixie's friends also came: Bella, Emma and Mesa - all super active, and when they got the zoomies racing around like headless chickens, Dixie was watching all this from a secure spot between me and Anne. I wonder what she was thinking about this circus.

Needless to say we all laughed so hard watching the race.

What a great moment, this was.

I need to tell the story about Bella, Emma, and Mesa, which began 3 years ago. 

It was still early in the morning when I met James at the front dumpster. He was clearly not himself so I asked how he was doing. It turned out he hadn't been able to sleep all night. A dog which had turned up with him days earlier and which he had taken into his trailer, had thrown out a litter of 8 puppies during that night. Now James was all up in arms as the mother dog wouldn't let the puppies drink.

So James was ready to run to town to get formula for dogs. However, when he came back he found his 8 puppies happily sucking milk from their mother.

6 weeks later, James had turned into a nervous wreck, other campers, incl. us, took over watch hours for the puppies while James tried to catch some sleep. And then it was time to find people interested in adopting a puppy  or two. It wasn't difficult. The puppies were really cute  heartbreakers, so soon all puppies found their forever homes. So Bella is the mother, while Emma and Mesa are two of her kids. The others went to other homes, one named Pedro still lives in Holtville.

These Images from 2023

We enjoyed this impromptu gathering tremendously, it is good to have friends.

Every Year In February

 Yes, it was that time again for the one big event in the little California town of Holtville. The annual Carrot festival was luring us into town to watch the 79th carrot parade.

While I in previous years have posted images, this year I put together a short video with some of the most interesting views taken from the sidewalk.

For those of you who are not familiar with Holtville,CA, it is a town built on agriculture. It is part of the Imperial Valley which stands for a huge percentage of all vegetables produced in the US. And in order to get those veggies to your super market, thousands of people from Mexico and Central America are working in the fields. So if you are one of those who support the removal of those people from the US, you should think about the field workers toiling in all kind of whether to actually produce your food, while others are qualified healthcare employees or construction workers.

GOLD Along The River

Over the years we have been coming back to an area today known as Picacho State Recreation Area, which is a California State Park. I mention California, as the place is easily confused with the Picacho Peak State Park in Arizona.

We are reaching Picacho over an 18mile dirt road. It is a bit rough with corrugated stretches. The first part is crossing a high plateau before it descends into a valley surrounded by impressive volcanic rock formations.

Picacho, California was once a thriving gold mining town established in 1862 after Jose Maria Maville’s discovery near Picacho Peak. You’ll find this ghost town 25 miles north of Yuma, where nearly 2,500 residents once lived during its 1870s-1900s heyday. The community declined after 1910 when the Laguna Dam eliminated essential steamboat transportation and ore quality diminished. Today, you can explore remaining mill ruins and relocated graves that tell stories of frontier resilience.

Early settlers quickly established placer mining operations in the area’s dry washes after 1852, extracting shallow gold deposits using primitive mining technology. Mexicans and Indians had long worked these grounds using traditional methods like dry washing and winnowing with blankets.

Desert prospectors worked sun-baked washes using ancient techniques to separate fine gold from sand in this harsh landscape.

You can still see evidence of these early efforts in the small tailings piles scattered throughout the region. The settlement, originally named Rio before becoming Picacho, formed around these mining activities.
The early mining techniques were basic but effective for the very fine gold particles typical of these desert placer deposits. The gold deposits in the Picacho Mining District consisted primarily of thin gold-bearing stringers in schist formations. By 1872, operations expanded substantially into hard rock quarrying, marking a new era in the mine’s development.

Golden Years: Peak Population and Prosperity

Picacho’s golden era transformed the once-modest mining camp into a thriving community of approximately 2,500 residents between the 1870s and early 1900s, establishing it as one of the largest settlements in this remote corner of Southern California.

Community dynamics evolved beyond mere survival to include social institutions—a school educating 90 children, multiple saloons, and even a polo field where residents could escape the rigors of daily life.


The economic backbone consisted of approximately 700 miners extracting precious ore that yielded 96,750 ounces between 1906-1910 alone.

Picacho Mills Historic Trail offering accessible pathways through structures that survived submersion

Despite low ore grades averaging just 0.15 ounces per ton, the operation generated approximately $2,000,000 during peak years.

Economic fluctuations followed mining cycles, with periodic investments and technological improvements temporarily reversing declining production trends. The town proudly claimed the distinction of being the first registered town in Imperial County when it was officially named Picacho in 1895.

The upper stamp mill, constructed in 1886 by Stephen A. Dorsey, produced an impressive 13 million dollars in gold before operations ceased in 1910.

The decline of Picacho

The story of Picacho’s decline begins around 1910, when a storm of economic and infrastructure challenges overwhelmed the once-thriving mining community.

The economic impact was swift and devastating as gold ore quality diminished considerably, making mining operations unprofitable.

The timeline of community disintegration unfolded in clear stages:Laguna Dam’s 1910 completion severed crucial steamboat transportation, dramatically increasing freight costs.
Mining operations ceased entirely by 1910 as costs soared and ore quality plummeted.

Population rapidly declined as employment disappeared and businesses shuttered.
Imperial Dam’s 1938 construction raised water levels by 20 feet, submerging much of the original townsite.

Like many ghost towns across the American West, Picacho’s story reflects the boom-and-bust cycle tied to resource exploitation and changing transportation networks.

Today, you’ll find only scattered stone ruins where 700 miners once lived, their history gradually erased by the engineered landscape that now defines Picacho State Recreation Area.

Relocated Graves, Preserved Stories

As rising waters from the Imperial Dam project threatened to consume Picacho’s history beneath the Colorado River in 1938, authorities undertook the solemn task of relocating the town’s cemetery from its original riverside location.

The relocated stories of Picacho’s pioneers now rest beside the state park campground, where twelve additional bodies from Castle Dome Landing joined them. Despite preservation efforts, most graves remain unmarked—their headstones lost during the hasty shift, creating gaps in historical documentation.

Though white fencing now protects these preserved memories near the ravine, the environmental displacement fundamentally altered the connection between Picacho’s dead and the land they once inhabited.

Today, you’ll find this historical cemetery juxtaposed against recreational facilities, a physical reminder of how water infrastructure development forever changed the landscape of the American Southwest.

What Remains: The Ghost Town Today


Today’s visitors to Picacho encounter a ghost town dramatically altered by time and environmental change, yet still revealing fascinating remnants of its gold mining heyday.

The historical significance of these ruins provides a window into California’s vibrant mining past, while archaeological findings continue to document the settlement’s evolution.

When exploring the area, you’ll discover:Two historic mills standing as primary architectural evidence, including visible stone walls and wooden poles from Dorsey’s original mill
The relocated town cemetery with its few marked graves, including Thomas Rochester’s notable memorial
A landscape transformed by the 20-foot water rise following Imperial Dam’s 1938 completion

Hola, This Is The Broccoli Express

DO YOU LOVE BROCCOLI?

This afternoon we had an errand in El Centro. 

On our way back, it was between Hwy 111 and Holtville, I suddenly saw a lot of white stuff ahead. It looked like a lot of cardboard boxes and they were all over our lane. Getting into the left line was impossible, as another car and a bus blocked my way. So I hit the brake and the horn, but a collision was impossible.

A split second later I realized that we just had hit a load of broccoli.

Once being through that mess, we continued our way only to see more broccoli along in the ditch along the highway.

Now, it was time to do a controlled stop on the shoulder and start picking ---- broccoli.

Lots of people were already at it, and I quickly filled two boxes, roughly 40lbs. of beautiful fresh broccoli packed with ice. Crashing to the ground, all of the boxes had opened up spilling their content. It really was mess.

Loaded with broccoli, we continued our way home to camp, where one box was left on the "Free Table" at the host station, the other one to be distributed between us and our neighbours. Tomorrow all of us may appear with green faces.