Home Again, Home Again…

Since we left home on June 14, 2013, we have traveled 10,125 miles, passed through four states, stayed in 20 states at 47 different campgrounds and two 'other' places—my aunt and uncle's in the Sierras and the home of my high school friend, Linda, and her husband Alex, in North Carolina.

Our first year out included two specific goals for us to meet: We had to be in Virginia Beach by about mid-September for daughter Mandy's and son-in-law Steve's renewal of vows celebration; and, we needed to be back home in California for our youngest grandson's first birthday. The rest of the trip's schedule and route was based on meeting those goals. I'd make reservations for one or two week stays in the locations where there were friends to visit, where Rob could paraglide or places of interest to explore. In the areas along the route that had little or no interest, we'd stay two or three nights to make sure Rob, the primary driver of 60 feet of rolling house and car, had plenty of rest between long hauls. Over time, Rob has grown more and more accustomed to driving The Beast so we no longer need as much down time in between. This will now allow us to get where we want to be more quickly and spend more time at interesting places.

When we arrived at home early in May, I wondered how I might feel once we got here. Aside from disliking heavily populated areas and traffic, would I find that I missed the familiarity of home? Would I discover that I missed our family more than I'd thought and want to stay, not travel anymore? Would I feel restless and want to move on to the next new place and new people to meet as I had many times throughout the trip? I felt as though I'd come out of my shell a bit over the last year what with feeling more at ease meeting new people and initiating introductions and conversations, so I wondered would I be more outgoing once I got home?

The truth is I still don't like heavily populated areas and traffic, so the only good thing to being in a familiar area is I don't have to use my GPS to find my way around. I found that it was wonderful seeing my family and I'm gratified that our kids have built solid lives for themselves and our grandchildren are happy and healthy, but I still feel no need to be present week in and week out in order to watch them grow. That's for their parents to do. I am glad Rob and I got to witness three firsts with our grandson, Oliver, though. As mentioned before, we came home for his first birthday, we saw him eat sugary icing for the first time and we witnessed his first time in a swimming pool, which he loves, loves, loves. And, although I don't actually feel restless, I am ready to move on because I found that I am reverting to my old ways here. I'm spending way too much time indoors, fast becoming the hermit I was before. I think I like the interaction with strangers on the road. It's good for me.

The two most prominent observations I had about being home again are these: First, I miss seeing my mom regularly and even though we have her blessing to be traveling 'while you still can,' as she put it, she isn't getting any younger and I feel a bit heavy-hearted about not being near her. Despite the fact that I haven't spent inordinate amounts of time with her while here, I think it has more to do with proximity. If the need were to arise, I'm there. In a heartbeat. Second, is something that we've all done. You know how you might put up a note where you'll always see it as a reminder of something? Maybe its an affirmation or an instruction to do something—like we have a note in our bathroom to 'turn off gas.' We turn on the propane to the water heater because it's quicker to recoup hot water for our showers than electricity alone. Ever notice how you quickly begin to see past the note, how it becomes invisible? The note is right there, but I can't count how many times we've heard the flame go on later in the day and say oops! forgot to turn off the gas! (What a waste of propane). Well, coming home to the Bay Area was like that for me. When you see it everyday, it becomes routine, invisible, same-old same-old. I was reminded of how absolutely, incredibly, stupendously beautiful the Bay Area is. I recall feeling that same way whenever I'd come home for a visit when I lived in New Jersey many, many moons ago. Sometimes we just forget. Now, if all those people from other countries and states, who decided they also want to live where it's absolutely, incredibly, stupendously beautiful, would go home…  I'm not really that narrow-minded, but you know what I mean. I feel I have a little more clout to think this kind of thing than most others as I am a third-generation (northern) Californian. Not too many of us around. I remember when Oregon's natives had a campaign to keep Californians from moving up there!

Speaking of the Bay Area made me think of something that happened while in Florida. Someone asked us where we were from and we responded, "The Bay Area." This person said, "Oh, from the Tampa area?"

Uh. No.

There are many bays around the country, and I'm sure the locals near any of them call them 'the bay area,' but it seems to me that in general terms, there is only ONE Bay Area in all the country and it is San Francisco (never, ever call it Frisco!). Just like there is only one 'Windy City,' one 'Big Apple,' one 'LA,' one 'Sin City,' one 'Big Easy.' Maybe I'm wrong. Maybe I'm just a proud, possessive, native, California snob who feels squeezed out of the place (by people, cars and politics), that has always and will always, no matter where I am, be home to me.

Enough of that.

Our sweet, adoptee, Spooky, has been re-adopted by my sister, Pamela. We just couldn't keep him. When we took him in he was 7 1/2 pounds of furry skin and bones. He weighed in at 15 1/2 pounds the last time I stood on the scale with him. Because of his size, just plain big and tall, he couldn't comfortably squeeze his way through the kitty door to the litter box and would pee on the carpet. He'd force his way through to poop, but not pee. We just couldn't have that. As long as he had easy access, there was no problem. He is a wonderful, calm, friendly, loving and beautiful kitty. But with his health problems, I couldn't leave him with a shelter. Someone might've decided he wasn't adoptable and, therefore, not worth saving. I couldn't bear to not know what became of him, so I am eternally grateful that my sister took him. He'll be happy because all animals are cherished there. Our little home seems kind of empty without him, but I don't think Louis and Brandy have minded his absence one bit. In fact, I think they're relieved.

We leave, again, in four days. By then, we will have been home for a month. The time has gone screaming by and of the many projects we intended to do, several have gone undone or unfinished. Probably because we didn't make a list and now I can't remember what they all were. I had to break the news to my son-in-law, Terry, that I've decided to keep my sewing machine, so now I don't feel the rush to finish the dashboard cover, complete with screened cutouts for the vents (pain in the arse), that I started. And, we were going to go through our drawers and closets to weed out clothing we haven't worn over the last year, but that hasn't been done in any major way. But that's okay. We can give clothing to charities wherever we go.

We will be heading up to Shingletown, outside Redding, for five nights to meet up with our friends, Mike and Deb, for a short visit. Then we will head into Oregon to spend a month near Ruch (pronounced Roosh), where the annual international paragliding competition called Rat Race, at Woodrat Mountain, is being held. We'll be seeing many friends and meeting lots of paraglider pilots from all over the world. This will be our third time at Ruch, but the first time in many years. From there, we will be dry camping at a National Park near the coast to visit friends and family for a week, then on up to Washington for another month. From there, who knows? We'll figure that out when the times comes. Such is the beauty of this life on the road.

Oliver on his birthday present from Gramma and Papa.

Hey! How come no one let me taste this stuff sooner!

Jack and Oliver show some cousin love.

Jack, Papa, Elizabeth and Oliver.

Jack helping the inexperienced driver.

Oliver enjoying the pool with daddy, Chris.

Oliver with mommy, Hayley.

Almost Home

We finished our time in Quartzsite with a drive down to Yuma to visit our friends, John and Charlene. They have a very nice place there—a Park Model—and they have a little casita on their property as well. They spend winters there and summers in northern California. They treated us to lunch, which was really nice of them, and then took us for a drive around the area in which they live just outside Yuma proper. There is a neighborhood adjacent to theirs in which the builder was originally planning to subdivide lots and then sell them for exorbitant amounts without providing the basic infrastructure of water, electric and sewer. They soon found out that people just weren't buying it—no pun intended—and they had to change their game plan. Most people have built small structures that might contain a laundry room, kitchen, bathroom, and maybe a sitting room and bedroom, but are really minimal because most simply drive their RVs down and park them on their land for the season and live in them.

We had a neighbor while in Quartzsite with whom, thanks to Rob, I had an opportunity to chat. Dave Gatley is a photographer who used to be the chief photographer for the LA Times and has extensively traveled the world photographing our military, celebrities, etc. He is recognized as a world renowned photojournalist and was nominated for the pulitzer prize three times. He is the only photographer who's been allowed to photograph our Navy Seals during their intensive training and, as a result, published a book of these photographs through the US Naval Institute in 2011. I loved looking at his photographs on his website at www.gatleyphotography.com. What a treat it was to meet Dave.

Because our Quartzsite friends, Phil and Linda, were so gracious, took us out into the desert in their ATV and were game to join us for the eclipse and Blood Moon by taking us to an ideal place to view it and photograph it, we wanted to do something for them. Instead of dinner, I decided to do something different and make brunch for them. It was a hit and a lot of fun.

The forecast was such that we thought we'd have a comfortable night out in the desert for the Blood Moon, but it wasn't as warm as we'd expected. We left before the entire eclipse was complete because of the culmination of several factors—my poor neck had a serious kink in it from the way I had to sit to see and focus my camera on our telescope, we became uncomfortably cold and my camera battery, which was fully charged when we started out, died but, thank goodness, not before I got a good photograph of the full Blood Moon. I ordered new batteries the next day as the ones I have were in their final throes anyway.

We headed on to Lake Havasu City for two weeks staying, again, at Cattail Cove State Park. We were treated to an Easter brunch by our friends Mark and Jeannine, who picked us up on the beach in their boat. From there, along with a second boat—a pontoon—and many of their friends, we headed south to Havasu Springs Resort. They put on a wonderful brunch. Lots of food from which to choose—bacon and eggs, hash browns, biscuits and sausage gravy, french toast, fruit, savory dishes of meats, potatoes, vegetables, and desserts. I even went back for seconds. We had a nice time and it was wonderful to get out on the lake.

Mark and Jeannine are in the business of repairing dual-paned RV windows that have broken seals, so we asked them to take care of a couple of our windows. They did a wonderful job and we appreciate their quality work.

The last weekend we were in Havasu there was an event called Desert Storm where boat owners brought their crafts down to show them off and participate in a Poker Run on the lake. Most of these boats are huge, colorful and fast. One evening they had many of them displayed along one of the main streets in town for everyone to view. There were vendors of food and marine goods and the local bars and restaurants were doing brisk business that night. We met Mark and Jeannine at a restaurant called The Red Onion and had dinner with them. Then we walked the street to check out all these boats. We lost Mark and Jeannine and it would have been near impossible to find them again so, when Rob's knee started to give him fits, we headed back to The Beast.

We didn't see Mark and Jeannine again before we left Havasu because they were busy with business and getting ready to head to Sacramento for the summer to handle window repair in partnership with an RV dealer there. I think they're going to have a really good year!

Now we are in Santa Paula, California, just east of Ventura. We've enjoyed spending time with daughter, Kristie, son-in-law Matt, and grandson Cayman. Poor Matt is having back problems and could barely move for a few days but is on the mend. Kristie was in northern California when we arrived, so we took Cayman on a Friday evening to spend the night with us. He and Papa took a swim in the park's pool/spa, which was a bit of a treat. On Saturday we took him out for his birthday shopping before taking him home and awaiting his mom's arrival home. Kristie and I walked a botanical garden one morning. It isn't a typical botanical garden of the sort that is landscaped with delineated beds with fresh annuals planted each season but of a natural type with indigenous plants along the trail. Kristie made us dinner one evening, which was delicious, and took us out to dinner another, which we appreciated very much. We've enjoyed just being together.

We leave here tomorrow, May 9th, and will be home on the 10th. I am truly looking forward to seeing our friends and family but for some reason I have mixed emotions and I can't quite identify exactly what it is I'm feeling so I'm unable to describe it. We've been gone for 11 months and that's a long time. When we leave again, it's quite possible we won't be back for well over a year. Sometimes I have to pinch myself to make sure I'm really living this life and that it's not all just a dream.

Charlene and John with Coco.

An Arizona scene—between Yuma and Quartzsite.

Full moon.

One third occluded.

The Blood Moon

A little color at Cattail Cove.

On the way to Easter Brunch.

Rob hamming it up.

Our friend Mark Livers.

Our friend Jeannine with her granddaughter, Breezy.

Breezy enjoying an orange at the Red Onion.

Rob is thinking "I really really want one." Uh. No.

Rob checking out one of those huge, fast boats.

Interiors are lit with LEDs. They look pretty cool.

I photographed this dune buggy for cousin-in-law, Keri Luiz. Have you been reading the blog, Keri?

Keri does pinstriping, etc. This looks like it was done with airbrush.

I photographed this vendor because their display was so handsome.

Imagine taking a ride in that.

This boat was very impressive, but it broke down on the water during the Poker Run.

The interior.

Meep! Meep!

Fun.

The lake from Cattail Cove during the Poker Run.

Going fast!

There's the green boat I photographed.

The beach and boat ramp at Cattail Cove.

Camp visitors.

Cayman in the pool at our RV park in Santa Paula.

This is the last photo of Cayman before he lost one of his front teeth.

Hamming it up with Papa.

Kristie at the top of the trail overlooking Ventura and the grand Pacific.

Cayman after making a wish and tossing a penny.

Cayman and Kristie at Cayman's school on 'Family Picnic Day.'

Cayman with his best girl, Maggie.

Such a ham!

Quiet Quartzsite

Before we left Tucson, Rob and I took a day trip to Tombstone and Bisbee. Where Tombstone is a tourist destination to see old, western buildings, museums, shops with real Native American jewelry and art, and shoot-out shows with actors always in character as people like Doc Holliday, Bisbee is the non-tourist, living, breathing, real-deal, old, western town, although retrofitted for the modern age. Tombstone was fun to see with its wooden sidewalks, and, before you hit pavement, dirt edges to the street, which gave the dusty feel of how it must've looked and felt way back when; hitching posts, and a stagecoach, in which you could pay to ride, helped finish the effect. But we spent way too much of our day walking around there. By the time we got to Bisbee, we were a bit worn out, especially Rob. I was disappointed that we didn't start the day in Bisbee because I would love to have found the cemetery to search out my great great aunt Daisy's grave. My mother's story about her great aunt is the reason I went to Bisbee. This is what my mom wrote to me in an email:

"Hi, again. You are going to be passing fairly close to another place where ancestors settled - Bisbee, Arizona - southeast of Tucson close to the Mexican border. Hettie Kuykendall Ligon's sister Daisy moved to Bisbee after either a failed marriage or being widowed, I don't know which, and remarried after several years in Bisbee. She came to visit Hettie before WW2 and Hettie was dismayed to find "her sister" smoked cigarettes, dyed her hair and wore lipstick! Shirley (my mother's cousin) and I loved her and she must have liked us because on her next trip west (still before WW2) she brought me my first doll with "real" hair - I still have that doll. I will never forget her bright red hair and lipstick. I don't remember what she brought Shirley."

I wondered, as I looked around at the hills and at all the houses as we drove through the town, just where aunt Daisy had lived.

Founded as a copper, gold and silver mining town in 1880, there didn't seem much to Bisbee other than it being a picturesque place with authentic, old western buildings and homes that are still occupied today. The Copper Queen Hotel continues to be in business and has been since 1902. Apparently, it is known for paranormal activity and was featured in both TV shows Ghost Hunters and Ghost Adventures. Now wouldn't that be an interesting place to spend the night? Bisbee is also the county seat and the courthouse is built incongruously with its surroundings in the Art Deco style. Not only is it's architecture quite splendid, it was fitted with absolutely, gorgeous entry doors, for which I just had to run up the steps to photograph.

Bisbee is a hilly town full of charm. Most of the homes we saw are small—like quaint, little matchboxes—but painted in bold, cheery colors. A good number were nestled in the crevices of the rocky hills. Many of the homes were built in the Mule Mountains and, to this day, are unreachable by vehicle—hence the name 'Mule.' I don't know for sure, but I guess by mule might still be the way to transport loads of goods to one's property—either that or ATV. It is also the home of the 1000 Step Climb, a 5 kilometer run that goes through the streets and up and down over 1000 steps. My buns and thighs burn just thinking about it.

I do wish we could have stayed longer. Another time.

We reached Quartzsite at the end of the high season. Most of the wintertime businesses have shuttered or pulled up stakes to move on to their summertime locales. When we arrived, there were several RV parks with many lingerers but, since then, even those have thinned. In the desert, on BLM land, dry-camping RVers, many sporting solar panels, lined up one after the other just a couple of weeks ago and, now, only a few dot the landscape here and there. At the Holiday Palms, we seem to be the only transient RVers left. We have a rig or two come in for a night, maybe two but, otherwise, they've all left before it gets too hot. A couple of days the temperature climbed to over 100°F, but its coming back down—for now.

I imagined there'd be plenty of downtime for me here in Quartzsite. I'd planned to spend all my time learning Photoshop and to do that sort of thing I need an atmosphere of non-distraction, but we'd made several friends the last time we were here and some haven't left to head back home. So, unexpected but welcome, socializing became part of my agenda. I can learn Photoshop in bits and pieces but, I know me, I have to keep at it and focus or I'll forget everything I learned in between my lessons.


The first folks we stopped in to visit were Phil and Linda, who live in Oregon during the summer months. Its been a pleasure to get reacquainted with them. Phil took both Rob and me out into the desert in his ATV. Rob one day, which was hot and windy, and me the next day which was hot and not so windy. Phil took me to several vistas, which I photographed, and stopped when I asked so I could take more photographs. Phil drove me out to see Native American pictographs and bowls worn into stone where they once ground corn and other grains. We drove by a little community called Rainbow Acres where the original intention was to build homes. I could see that a couple lots had homes constructed in the adobe style, but otherwise it was all land with a low wall around the whole place. Well, we all know what happened with the economy, so the landowners rent their lands to snowbirds during the winter instead. It is a ways from Quartzsite, but not too far, so you can simply drag your chairs out into the desert and watch the sunset (or sunrise), and stare at the stars at night to your heart's content with nary a city light to pollute the sky.

That evening, I took the card out of my camera to download all the photographs onto my hard drive. My computer said it couldn't read the card. What?! I fiddled around and tested my card reader, which appeared to be operating correctly. I know I saw my photos on my camera! There couldn't be anything wrong with my card! I popped it back into the camera and what did I see? A message—something to the effect that the card wasn't formatted. I always reformat my cards! All my photos from the day are lost. Rob said it was 'just a glitch. It happens' (as though that was supposed to make me feel better?). Sigh. The first photo of the day had been a bunch of beautiful cactus flowers that would be spent by the time the sun got too high and hot. Phil said it was called an Argentine. Gorgeous! They looked like someone had plopped a bouquet into a cactus vase. Lost those, too. But, the good news is Phil emailed some of his photos to me—a few from the day and a few to show some of the things he's seen while out in the desert with other ATVers; and, Linda emailed me her shots of the flowers. This means you get to see them, too.

I remember thinking, as we drove west through Arizona toward Quartzsite, that I just don't like the desert. Although I admired the Saguaro and Occotillo cacti as we sped past the gray-brown, dusty terrain, I felt as though it was too desolate and I couldn't remember what I saw in it after having been through the green of the east. But I remember now. I've been reminded of it's unique appeal, a beauty teeming with life. Where else can mountains and buttes reflect the brilliant colors of a sunset like they do here, or find rocks beige on one side and burnt black from the sun on the other? If there is anyplace, I haven't been there, yet.

The second folks we stopped to see were Jeff and Nonda, who also spend summers in Oregon. They have an RV windshield business and last year we facilitated an introduction between them and our friends who we met in the Imperial Sand Dunes, Mark and Jeannine, from Lake Havasu City, who have an RV window repair business. They now work cooperatively by referring business back and forth according to the customer's needs. By all accounts, they had a fantastic season this year. We couldn't be happier for them. When we leave Quartzsite, we'll be in Lake Havasu City and will be getting together with Mark and Jeannine. I sure hope they can fit us into their work schedule. We have a couple of windows that need attention.

The night the sky was on fire with that vibrant sunset that I saw so many photos of on Facebook, we joined Phil and Linda, Nonda and a few more couples around a campfire. We all sat about 6 to 8 feet back from the flames because we certainly didn't need it for heat, just atmosphere. The evening marked the last jam session of the season in the clubhouse as well, so we enjoyed live music while we ate/drank jello shooters, provided by a fun-loving gal by the name of Charlotte. Thank you, Charlotte. Those shooters were yummy!

We found out from our friends, Mike and Deb, that a couple of friends from our motorcycle riding days spend their winters in Yuma, so we invited John and Charlene up for the day. We talked and talked and found we had more in common than we'd ever known before. We barbecued steaks, and had baked potatoes and salad for dinner. We had a wonderful time catching up and will be driving down to see their place in Yuma on Monday or Tuesday.

I don't know what I was thinking when I thought we'd be having a 'quiet' time in Quartzsite. It hasn't turned out that way at all. Thank goodness!

I love this life.

Here are Phil and Linda's photos:

The road to nowhere—or so it seems.

Phil and Linda's Tarantula encounter.

So much to see in the desert.

Linda's photo of the beautiful, blooming Argentine cactus.

ATVers gathering for a ride.

Nice shot, Phil!

That's me taking one of the lost photos.

The pictographs.

How awesome is this scene!

And this one!

Fun!

And there's me, again, getting ready to photograph this old, stone house.

And, now, my photos:

The stagecoach in Tombstone. The horses were getting cooled down with a spray of water.

Rob with his new friend.

Cool doors.

More cool doors.

The actors waiting around for the next show.

I loved this mule bench.

Even Tombstone has hit hard times.

One of the prettier buildings.

The Art Deco Courthouse. Front, right, is a statue of a copper miner.

Part of the 1000 steps.

Cool looking manhole cover.

Offices and a restaurant next to the 1000 steps.

Stunning Art Deco Courthouse.

And, it's doors.

Old downtown Bisbee. Charming.

The haunted Copper Queen Hotel.

Heading back to Tucson.

The clouds were amazing that day.

At the Holiday Palms in Quartzsite.

I love the saguaros.

Another lovely cactus in bloom.

Sunset reflected.

The night the sky was on fire.