Hmm. Haven't had to determine what is or what is not --much less where it is or is not allowed-- 'camping' in more than a decade, but there are a couple of signs at the turn-offs that access the couple of two-track ranch roads that lead into this area. For as often as I wheel around down there, I can't say I've paid a lot of attention to those signs, but if memory serves, they say something like '$500 reward for information leading to the arrest of illegal campers'.

More ingrained in my memory (than the years when I DID have say about where, how, and/or if somebody could camp somewhere) are those instances when I was a kid and me and my siblings would head on down to the creek across my grandparent's cow pastures, and inevitably one or the other of us would feel a big SQUISH gush up between our toes. And there'd be this awful smell, too. The area shown in the image would --not now, exactly, but it will be in a month or so-- be prone to similarly squishy situations, but if you want to go camp out there, I got two things to say: #1, I could use $500, and #2, there are a couple of good, reputable towing companies who'd be plea$$$ed to shoot on down there and tow you and your 40' Taj Mahal on wheels right on out of there, lickety-split.

All is not lost, though. A mile or so away is a nice BLM campground that would accommodate you & your rig very nicely. And there aren't even any cows that might squish spice your life up.

Nope, not shot along old 395, or even anywhere in the state of Cali. Shot in the glorious environs of the 'Poverty Flat' section of southern Spanish Valley (Spanish Valley being a sort-of red-headed stepchild 'suburb' of Moab due to being situated in San Juan County rather than being rightly and righteously located in Grand County, where the metropolis of Moab, Ootah sits. Or slouches. Or --during tourist season-- does The Twist/a sprightly Minuet/or Break Dances. Or like today, sometimes just lays here looking crumpled and exhausted).

Correspondingly, the mountains shown here are not the Sierras, they're the LaSals.

<edit/addendum> The attached (below) was shot a short while after, and from a separate spot about a mile south --or deeper into the heart of darkness that is (with the exceptions of Ken's Lake, the Interagency Fire Whatcha-ma-Callit Center, a couple of BLM camping platzs, and the Mindblowingly Spectacular Bucket List/tourorist destination commonly known as 'Faux Falls' --called that because though it may be 'a falls', being humanly made rather than Nature made, it's an ersatz water falls) in Poverty Flat-- from where the originally posted shot was taken.

There be dragons here....

....and maybe later today, or potentially tomorrow, I'll go shoot a shot at one of those 'No Camping' signs. Just hope I don't get eaten by one of them so-called 'dragons' (they're actually dinosaurs, but nobody wants to admit to something as ludicrously factual as that).

In some parts of the world, 'check' is spelled 'cheque', and although I prefer cash, I will accept Certified Teller's Banque Cheques and/or gold bullion in lieu thereof. Most especially if/when the aforementioned gold bullion, CTBC AND/or cash is safely delivered to my cave by a local constabull.

But, 'sit back and enjoy the ride'??? O My Heck, Cheepf! Whenever you do that, all anybody up here in the front seat hears is "are we there yet?", or "MOM! She's TOUCHING me!", or "I gotta PEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!"

Which is usually thought to be somewhat lacking in the 'enjoy' part of the ride.