We stayed up on top of the roof for quite awhile. We tracked numerous
satellites, saw several bright shooting stars and simply enjoyed the now
lowered temperature. Actually, the wind was kind of howling and it was
getting pretty chilly out. Another extreme was the desert itself. During the
daylight hours, the temperature easily burst past the hundred degree mark.
At night, it quickly cooled to the low sixties or even fifties. The extreme
temperature difference was responsible for the wind. A few beers, some left
over Fritio crumbs and a non-existent desert base. Yes, it was a weird kind
of way to enjoy a Thursday night. However, the change of pace was actually
kind of nice. We scoped out any movements we saw around us, which I must say
were many. Behind us, looking back towards Groom Lake Road, every now and
then we saw a bright light turn on and drive around the valley below. It
looked as though it came towards the dirt road, traveled on it for awhile,
then off the other side. All we could see were the bright, white lights
tooling around the valley. The valley was lit only by the moon (which was
not full) and the stars (O.K. and maybe the glow of Vegas in the distance).
Was it a another Jeep Cherokee guy out on patrol? Maybe. Possibly setting up
more surveillance equipment? Probably. The odds pointed in that direction
anyway. We saw this light all night long. There was also another strange light
closer to us. It was a small, white strobe light of some sort going off just
to the northwest of us. One odd thing was that it’s delay between flashes was
not consistent. It didn’t flash at regular intervals. Sometimes it would stop
as we tried to make out what it was through out 40 U.S. dollar binocs. We
could tell, from earlier viewing of the border that it was positioned on the
other side – in the restricted area. It was located a little below us on a
nearby hillside. It was also close enough to make us a little uneasy. Strange
unidentified lights near anybody’s campsite would probably do the same. On
the south side of us, near the beginning of the four wheel drive track which
lead us here, we saw another Cherokee patrol. This one drove around, pretty
much all night also. It’s headlights illuminated the barren hills,
feeding our imagination with more vague information which would later be
used to build instant horror movies in our minds. The secret base below us
and to the west sat quiet most of the night. Occasionally, a bright spot light
at the base would come on. Defiantly, much brighter and whiter then the amber
lights which outlined the hangers and buildings. This light would come on for
ten or so minutes, then turn off. I must say during the night I was battling
with my imagination. Trying to keep it from running away with all the
lights and movement which took place close to our campsite. In the middle of
the fucking desert. I thought about the many times, as a kid, when I’d
draw the drapes or close the door in my room after watching the violent
10:00 news with my parents or after viewing a scary movie. Having that
same feeling that I had now. There’s somebody watching me. Although, I can’t
see who or what it is. Feeling a little spooked we then decided to head in
out of the wind to the plush interior of the Montero.
Let me say that the inside of the Montero was indeed very plush for driving.
However, for sleeping, you could somehow tell it wasn’t designed to simulate
a popup camper. My friend (a.k.a. the Den-man) quickly snagged the back seat
and I was left with the front. Our packs, clothes and AM/PM Mini
Market Styrofoam cooler occupying the far back. The 29 U.S. dollar
micro cassette recorder was now set for VOR (voice activated recording). It
would automatically turn on and start recording the first sound it heard.
Talking? Screams? Pleas for our lives? — Snoring? The Den-man fell asleep
and I tried to rid my mind of all the terrible things I dreamt up watching the
anonymous lights wander about our site. We were both extremely tired from the
drive (6 hours in the Montero and 450 new miles on the odometer). I eventually
faded away, getting used to the fact that we were to be watched
closely all night long (also somehow getting used to the incredibly loud
snoring which was resonating from the back, comfortable seat). I didn’t sleep
that good. Actually, I slept just beyond the line of awareness.
Not very refreshing…
I woke up for no apparent reason. (although my aching vertebrae, displaced
from sleeping over the parking brake, probably had something to do with it.)
I then (somehow) managed to make enough noise to wake up the ‘Mad-Snorer’ in
the back. He woke, slurring out the expected “What the hell are you
doing!” greeting. After completely waking up, we looked out the windows at
the wandering lights and looked at each other. It was now around
2:00 in the morning. The wind had died and the temperature had dropped
still further. It was pretty obvious that we hadn’t gotten enough sleep.
We started chatting about how hungry we were. (A bad dose of Value Menu
Wendage and some Scoop Fritos was all we ate all day.) Out of the blue,
The Den-man then, very politely, asked our nice Cherokee fans (who were
most likely monitoring everything we said) to bring us up a few extra supplies.
“Toothpaste, please. Oh, and maybe a bottle of Listerine if it’s not too much
trouble..” This sent laughter through out the Montero and surrounding
Tikaboo Valley. (You have to understand – We were extremely tired.. It may
not sound as funny now but then, it brought tears to our eyes and cramps to
our stomach. Making our hunger even worse.) Our conversation quickly got
worse. (and you thought it couldn’t go any lower.) We talked about setting
up a lemonade stand up here on the ridge. A small business to furnish those
other thrill seekers with a rewarding, refreshing glass of lemonade.