Promises Kept

It has been three months and a bit since we decided to “take the long way home” from Florida via the Grand Canyon. I wanted out of this RV so badly. I wanted to be home. Wendy Montana and I needed to retreat to our corners for a bit. 
Then, about three weeks ago, everything changed. The offer of a position on the other side of the pond has us reconsidering so many things: what to do about George, what to take, who to call, how do we do this all, are we crazy, and what do we do with Wendy Montana and her escort, the Dodge truck?

We love Wendy. Our time apart helped us to see our relationship remains in tact.  But, can we leave her for three years and expect her to wait without her losing her vitality, her need for adventure? Without recreating, what good is a recreational vehicle?

The right thing to do is to sell so another family can let her show them the countryside. Damn.

We are on a quick last trip to a KOA in Buckley near Traverse City to pack her belongings and prepare to let her go. We have to remind ourselves that, in the end, she is just glass and steel, slides and wheels. It is still going to be hard to say goodbye though. She has been a second home for us for six years. When we bought her, we’d never been to Pentwater, and George wasn’t even born. She saw us through some fantastic transitions in life.

In May of 2012 I wrote a post welcoming Wendy Montana to the family. I hoped that she would be good to us and that we would be good to her.

She exceeded expectations.

Iowa gets a bad rap

It was a treat of a stopover southeast of Denver, not because of our campground, but because we were able to visit with my cousin Chris, his wife Christy, four of his six great kids, and two great dogs. I am so thankful to have had that time. I learn so much from some people, and they are a complete course in positivity, kindness, and service to others.

A quick stop in Waco, NE for sleep, and we were on the road shortly after 7 this a.m. It was grey and foggy and fifty, and it didn’t change for 350 miles. Then it was grey and foggy and 60.

Just ick. 

Behind the grey veil, Iowa looked OK! Rolling hills, very green and lush, and, they do try to beat theie ugly state rep with art. Strange art, but I give them credit for trying.

We listened to the radio, I googled trivia quizzes, and we listened to The Art of Racing in the Rain on audible. We are beat, and there 105 more miles until Michigan City Indiana.
The Sun Will Come Out Tomorrow, so they say.

Therapy

I know wonderful people who head to the mountains to take a break from the world. They are inspired by the majestic beauty, the raw ruggedness, their intense connection to nature. They ski, they hike, they think. Nature is their therapy. Nature is their drug.

And then there is me. It is not pretty inside my head right now. I need therapy because of the mountains. 

Driving so close to a drop-off of thousands of feet terrifies me. And if that makes you giggle a little, you don’t understand the degree of my fear.

I am embarrassed by the intensity of my emotional reaction. I know it is irrational, but it is real. 

We are driving east on I 70 and I cannot wait to get below 3000 feet which won’t be until tomorrow. It is beautiful when I can look, but you will see no pictures of the areas that petrify me because I am holding on with both hands. When the shoulder widens and the asphalt smoothes, I can look.

Time to stare at the road. 

Mesas

Colorado is certainly the land of mesas. Grand Junction was different than I expected.  While there is more green space, the lush mountainside view doesn’t really exist.  Perhaps because the land at the base of the mountains is still a mile high.

We played golf today (poorly for me) and it was spectacular.

Then we took George with us to Palisade and bought a bottle of locally distilled pear brandy with a pear IN the bottle. The area is known for growing peaches, but I couldn’t resist.

A quick refreshment stop and we are headed back to the RV for dinner and an evening routine of getting ready to roll again. 

Tomorrow is southeast Denver and a quick visit with my cousin Chris and his lovely bride Christy. I haven’t seen them since their wedding day.

Nice day today.

Monumental

After leaving the Grand Canyon, we headed to Grand Junction. An overnight stay halfway, in Monument Valley, UT, allows us to stick to less than six hours of driving in a day. This is Navajo sacred land, and you can easily understand why.

Our campground was a strip of land by the road, and as evening took hold, filled quickly with many RV rentals driven, again, by visitors mostly from other countries soaking in the quiet umber expanse of this native land.

A 17 mile tribal “road” took us through the incredible mesas, and in the same way you lay on your back and think about familiar silhouettes in the clouds, the formations also brought to mind look alike images.

I loved that everyone in the campground spent the evening watching the west side of the monoliths absorb the light before the sunset snuffed it out for the day.

The photo doesn’t do it justice.

We headed off to Grand Junction, Colorado the next morning. Eric used to live here and we searched for a peach orchard that a friend of his ran 40 years ago. We looked up his friend’s name and found him!  The two of them reminisced and caught up on the last 40 years. They met when they were mentors to adolescents trying to straighten their lives out.

Today we went to the top of the Grand Mesa, elevation over 10,000 feet. I am a little travel weary today.

Holy schist, that was gneiss!

We have a very wise friend who once said, nothing matters before the “but” (as in, “He is a really good dancer, but….)

Our visit to the Grand Canyon could be measured in my “Oh my God, NO WAYs!!!”, my irrational fear of slipping or falling on loose gravel, my panic at the precarious position other visitors would take trying to get the perfect canyon selfie, my struggle to breathe at this elevation, BUT, that would imply the Grand Canyon wasn’t awesome, and it was.

It was only a 90 minute drive to the park from Flagstaff, and I prepared myself for roughing it deep in the National Park. Once we arrived, Eric flashed his awesome senior park pass, and we drove to the campground – electric only we were told. We had pre-loaded water, had been shopping, took showers and did laundry before we left; we were ready. But what we weren’t ready for was a full hook-up paved site. Yippee! Glamping!

The infrastructure of this park is mind-boggling. Excellent bus routes, plenty of paved footpaths for clumsy city girls (and they even called it something rustic – Rim Trail), and elk, mule deer, and plenty of other wildlife.

It is amazing how much the canyon changes from different angles. Eric was fascinated by the geological diversity. We were both struck by the expansive views that help you see how huge this earth is, and the people watching that helps you see how small the earth is. People from across the globe are everywhere you go. 

Our estimate is that 50% of the people we saw were not from the U.S. It was so impressive and made you thankful so many people could travel to this spectacular place and appreciate this vast beauty that matches nothing I have ever seen. We have more in common than not with any other human being.

Our perspective from the rim, looking down on the apparent trickle of the Colorado, also reminded us how two perspectives can provide a deeper understanding of the whole. We can’t wait to compare experiences with Tree, who recently rafted the Colorado looking up to the same rim as we stood on looking down.

I will never forget this visit and I am beyond thankful that I was able to (mostly) manage my anxiety and appreciate the beauty that is the Grand Canyon.

And to Kalen, I am so glad we stayed more than five minutes.

Feeling a little edgy

Leaving Albuquerque through their terra cotta freeway overpasses highlighted with turquoise borders, we quickly returned to the wide open desert views that can seem ordinary after a few hours on the road. And then they change, as does the weather. We could see so far that three or four separate rain storms could be seen at once.

Except it wasn’t always rain. A whiteout while pulling 13,000 lbs. is a little scary. It was amazing how quickly temperatures fluctuated from the 50s to the low 30s. We discussed the triple point of water.

As we approached Flagstaff, a snow covered mountain welcomed us to a new part of the west.

And our campground was a good space to be for a few days.

Our day trip on this stop was to Sedona via highway 89a. Good roads, incredible views, then, BAM! My irrational fear of heights, edges, falling, etc. crept into my consciousness in waves and tsunamis. 

I should have looked down.

 I couldn’t look down.

But I could look up.

The red rocks surrounding Sedona were breathtaking. The town was quirky, cutesy, expensive. We walked around with Eric making jokes about the power of pink crystals, and then suggested heading to Jerome, a 19th century copper mining town that was once home to 15,000, and now, just 444 permanent residents.

It took me a bit to get used to living on the edge, but in the end, I could appreciate the awesomeness of this little town. Just couldn’t live here.

Today we are off to the Grand Canyon National Park for three nights.

And I don’t love living on the edge? Yikes. 

But I can look out and up.

Yes, we know the way to Santa Fe

It has been a few days without a blog post. On Saturday we made the painful drive across Texas on US 83/Texas 114. There is such a sense of desolation with old towns that no longer exist, dirt devils,  and just a lot of nothing. 

You have to wonder if the cure for cancer or other awful diseases is sitting under our feet in this ridiculously abundant untapped resource. 

We made it to Lubbock and had a great time with Julie, James and Kalen. We had fabulous barbeque, visited the Silent Wings museum dedicated to their training location for WWII glider pilots  (awesome view of the Lubbock airport) and just took joy in being with my inspirational sister and her family, and “Dank”, their four-footed house guest.

Then, off to Albuquerque. We should have listened to Julie and taken the interstate. More flat land, but now peppered with cattle feeding sites that stunk so badly you never wanted to eat beef again. Several of the feed farms sat in sharp contrast to the free-range cows nibbling on dried grass miles from any such corporate feed factories. Still, the middle of nowhere.

And then we approached Albuquerque and the terrain began to bulge while adobe style infrastructure multiplied.  We stayed two days at a KOA campground in the city, which turned out to be ok!

And yesterday we made our way to Santa Fe. Given the appropriate financial resources, I could live here! 

Next stop, Flagstaff Arizona, where they had winter weather advisories this a.m. (May 2nd!!!)

Head West RV

Just had breakfast with Chip, Katie, and Mabel before heading out for the next leg of our trip. What a gift to have time with them. They are great parents to a perfect little girl. 

The breakfast venue was called Old West Cafe. 

It is indeed Texas.

And now, a ridiculously boring drive across an enormous state. Lubbock, here we come!

RV travel involves lots of long stretches of driving and lots of stopping. Lots of different gas stations, public bathrooms, RV parks. Lots of spacing out and thinking of really important things, like toilet paper.

It is important, really important to be available and accessible.  This morning’s challenge was being able to access the new monster roll that had been wedged into its container.  Just cruel, really. Available, but not really accessible. There are probably quite a few sociological or economical issues that can be compared to toilet paper. Surplus, scarcity, accessibility, quality, and of course which way you roll, or unroll.

And of course the realization I have the awesome opportunity to ride along, seeing new things, visiting people I love and having the time to contemplate toilet paper along the way as a break from political news on the radio is not lost on me.
Sorry. I am this shallow at times.

Mabel

Nothing much else to say, is there?

We made it to Texas and to Grapevine’s beautiful city RV park and set up for a four day stay. We are between 30-60 minutes from Chip, Katie, and, of course, Mabel. Traffic, traffic lights, traffic, and, oh, did I mention the traffic? Not used to it. But, Mabel, she is pretty easy to get used to.

She sat for so long entertained by George. She isn’t crawling quite yet, but she can wiggle in the direction she wants to go. And she gets to play real life Pat the Puppy.