BorderLand 14
YUMA, ARIZONA. It’s high season in Yuma! Moments after turning off Interstate 8 and entering this RV heaven, I know I’ve found one of the major gathering spots for “snow birds.”
A mild scent of citrus provokes an odd feeling of comfort against the stark desert environment. The scent comes from roadside stands that crush oranges grown in the nearby groves. Sadly, new RV parks are displacing the groves.
What brings people here?
My head tells me that the usual reasons loom large: escape from winter, escape from a high cost of living, and escape from a world you no longer understand. Yuma even offers a feeling of personal safety. The crime rate is 30 percent lower than the national rate and nearly half the rate of other border communities. My senses give me another reason: people are attracted by a delicious combination of desert environment and a feeling that you’re close to the ocean. It’s something in the air.
In fact, it’s more than a feeling. The Gulf of California is less than forty miles away.
The Holiday Inn doesn’t have a vacancy. At the Travel Lodge, I take the last room. A calendar board behind the registration desk tells me they have been sold out almost every night and the desk attendant tells me it has been like this since early January. Some people are here for a few days or a week, others are here to explore more permanent options.
The Yuma yellow pages have seventy-five listings under “Recreational Vehicle Parks.” They have names like “A Shady Tree”, “Cactus Gardens”, “El Prado Estates”, “Hitching Post Trailer Park”, and “Suni Sands RV Resort.” I decide to learn more at the Blue Diamond Home and RV sales lot.
I ask Sandy Cunningham, a fiftyish woman with auburn hair, if she would spend a few minutes with me and explain what she does, how much things cost, and what she knows about RV parks.
“These Park Models are the hottest thing right now,” she says, pointing to a group of small mobile homes. Park Models have about 400 square feet of floor area, high ceilings, a bedroom, a kitchen, a bathroom, and a living/dining area. Unlike traditional RVs, which are designed to be towed from park to park, Park Models are usually moved only once— from the factory to a permanent location in an RV park.
“Our models, made by Chariot Eagle, sell for $24,000 to $40,000,” she explains.
What’s the low end of the market?
“You can get a basic model for about $20,000.”
And what about used models?
“We’ve got listings for those, too.” She reaches for a listings book and shows me a picture of 1999 Cavco Park Model with air conditioning. It’s listed at $31,000. “That air conditioner is important because they’re not standard equipment and a 2 ½ ton air conditioner costs about $1,900.”
Why aren’t they standard equipment?
“A lot of people are only interested in being here during the winter. They would rather spend their money on a storage shed or a deck or something like that.”
She shows me a picture of a 1996 Park Model with a 10×35 foot deck, a storage shed, and a 3-ton air conditioner. The asking price is $32,000.
Are older models less expensive?
“Sure. Look at this 1990 Chaparral. It’s got an 8×17 Arizona room— that’s really small— and it’s priced at $20,000.”
Across Route 80, there is a park with an imposing gated entry, a large clubhouse, and well-tended plantings. Lots in places like that, Ms. Cunningham tells me, sell for as much as $25,000. You can, however, rent a spot in other developments for $185 to $300 a month.
What about trying it out by renting a Park Model?
“The season is nearly six months— October to April— and you can rent a unit, all utilities included, for $1,000 a month.”
Is it always this crowded?
She laughs. “When I arrived here in October there were empty spaces lined up forever. It was eerie. By January they were all filled. Over 100,000 people hit here in January. Some are here by October but most come in January, after Christmas. This is my first year here and I’ve got to tell you, I’ve never seen anything like this.”
The economics are very simple. In Yuma, you can have a second home for $20,000 to $60,000, depending on the quality of the Park Model and whether you buy land or rent a space in an RV park. Either way, there are six to eight lots per acre of land which means that an acre of orange grove can be sold for $150,000 as RV “estates” or rented for about $2,000 a month as an RV park.
Oranges don’t have a chance.
The Road To Algodones
“By the way,” she adds, “if you’re exploring you need to make a visit to Algodones.”
I ask her to explain.
“It’s a little town just across the border. My husband and I go there regularly. I had breast cancer and my prescriptions cost $260 a month here but only $18.94 a month across the border. People cross the border everyday to get prescriptions filled.
“It’s the same with dental work. I spent $6,000 for crowns on my upper teeth in Florida and got an estimate of $6,500 for my lower teeth. But I can get it done for $2,200 in Algodones and it’s all the latest equipment. It’s a big business. They’ve got billboards along the highway and when you cross the border they’ve got barkers hustling people into the clinics.”
What about Medicare and U.S. medical treatment, I ask.
“So what…” she answers with a shrug.
Only a few miles west of Yuma on Interstate 8, I see the first billboard for dental work. Then another. Then a billboard for prescriptions.
This is for real.
Soon after that, I exit for Algodones. In the last few miles the citrus groves of Yuma have disappeared, replaced by a spare desert landscape. At the turnout, RVs are circled like a wagon train on drugs. On the other side of the highway overpass the terrain becomes rockier and RVs are parked in odd, isolated places.
Then I see the solar energy signs. Big RVs with awnings offer solar cell electric generators.
What we have here is a kind of prep school for post-apocalypse life. Like some of the travelers in Big Bend, people are driving live-aboard busses that trail 4-wheel drive cars and those, in turn, are topped with aluminum fishing boats.
Ready for the flood. Ready for whatever.
Not much further, traffic starts to thicken. Suddenly cars, busses, and RVs are parked on either side of the road. People are on foot, walking as though making a pilgrimage. Crutches will be thrown away. Sight will be restored. At the very least, Mal occlusions will be mended and smiles will be brightened. We’re on our way to Algodones!
Ahead, traffic has stopped altogether. It’s a world-class traffic jam, a quarter mile long, with nowhere to go. The parking lot at the end of the jam is overflowing and I can see a line of people waiting to cross the border.
I have been to Yuma and seen the future. It is called Mexicare. If you want to park, get here early.
Next: The Ultimate Crop
Borderland
Starting the journey: Riding into Laredo
A statistical picture of life along the border
Austin: The incredible disappearing Slacker
San Antonio: High Times and Low Water
Yturria Land and Cattle and El Canelo Ranch: Where’s the Beef?
Brownsville: Lifeguard on the Rio Grande
McAllen: Fields of dreams
All roads lead to Crystal City
Big Bend and the bridge at Presidio
Marfa: Herds of tomatoes, as far as the eye can see
Tucson: Containing growth
Tucson: Born to be wild?
Yuma and the dusty road to Mexicare
San Diego: The Ultimate Crop
Notes, mile marks and pictures
This information is distributed for education purposes, and it is not to be construed as an offer, solicitation, recommendation, or endorsement of any particular security, product, or service.
Photo: Scott Burns. The Dusty Road to Algodones
(c) A. M. Universal, 2000