Flagstaff became a short-lived high-country refuge for Linda May and her fellow nomads: a pine-shaded pause between a fourteen-day camping limit and the next seasonal job. The stop joined the practical demands of mobile life—finding somewhere to park, repairing a leaking roof, and moving when required—with the companionship and small domestic comforts that made a free campsite feel like a yard.

Arrival and the move north

After a forest ranger visited the group’s camp and recorded license plate numbers, the Rubber Tramp Rendezvous travelers had to plan their next move. They had stayed just over two weeks, although Bob Wells told the ranger they had been there only four days. The group chose Kaibab National Forest, near Flagstaff, both to move on and to escape the warmer conditions below: the new site stood about seven thousand feet above sea level.

Linda May’s RV needed attention before the journey. Its roof was in poor condition, and she hoped to patch and reseal it while the weather was warm enough for liquid rubber to cure. Wayne, another member of the group and a professional painter, climbed onto the roof and applied sealant with a long-handled roller. The work was finished just in time for the move.

A free yard among the pines

In Flagstaff, the group parked in a grove of tall pines. Linda May shared photographs of the site with friends and family on Facebook, calling it a place she and her dogs loved and asking what someone would pay for a yard like it; her answer was that it was free. The remark captured the appeal of the stop: public land supplied a setting that, for people living in vehicles, could function as outdoor domestic space without the cost of a conventional campground.

Linda May thanked Wayne for repairing the roof with a home-cooked dinner of Salisbury steak, mashed potatoes, and gravy. She served it on Kansas City Railroad china from the 1930s, which she had bought at an estate sale. Because the plates had survived three-quarters of a century without chipping, she judged them sturdy enough for life in an RV, where household objects had to travel along with their owners.

The Flagstaff camp also brought Linda May closer to Lori Hicks, a single mother with a heart condition who lived with her thirteen-year-old son, Russell, and their dog, Kaylee, in a blue 1995 Chevrolet Tahoe nicknamed Babe. Linda May and Lori explored their new surroundings together. During a visit to Linda May’s campsite, Russell and Kaylee came upon a giant elk skull, a striking find amid the ordinary routine of settling into a temporary home.

Books circulated through this community as readily as practical help. Linda May lent Lori a copy of Travels with Charley, which Lori was reading avidly. The book’s account of John Steinbeck’s road trip in a pickup camper with his poodle had become popular among nomads, and dog-eared copies passed from hand to hand.

Departure and significance

After a few days, Linda May had to leave Flagstaff: her next job, camp hosting at Mammoth Lakes, was about to begin. The stop was therefore not a permanent settlement but a brief interval in a working itinerary, shaped by camping limits, elevation, weather, and employment. Its repaired roof, shared meal, borrowed book, and free pine-wooded site show how a place between jobs could offer both practical support and the texture of home before the road called again.