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7:30a  (to start –  a whole day to complete!)

Just in case anyone was thinking that we were on some sort of joy ride, let me assure you we aren’t. Don’t worry about us having too much fun. We’re not. It’s ok, you can relax.

This is not good. Mamma is not happy. lol    It’s bumpy and hot and we are having a battery problem so there is very little computer or TV or in house lights even.  lol   But we are working very hard to keep a good attitude.  (HAHHAHAHAHAHAHHAA)

Jaymi’s Bored . . .

Oh, there have been pockets of happiness. Like when Dan pulled off the highway somewhere in California and parked in a neighborhood that look like good Halloween candy hunting territory.

Just after my second surgery, Dan was walking around the University campus with the children, looking for somewhere they could play for a little while. A playroom or a daycare even. He ventured down a long sky bridge into Doernbecher Children’s Hospital and ran into a Halloween party getting set up. Upon inquiry, Dan found out that the party was for both the children in the hospital and children of other patients in other OHSU hospitals. (OHSU is made up of several Hospitals) “Come back in half an hour.”

When he brought the children back to the party, along with face painting, pumpkin decorating and games galore, the children were invited to pick through racks of costumes that they could wear for this party and then keep for their own. It was a good thing! I don’t think my kids would have gotten costumes this year had they not gotten them at that hospital party that Dan happened to find.

Wearing their gifted attire, my three little tricksters climbed out of the motorhome this Halloween in a neighborhood like any other neighborhood except we haven’t the foggiest idea where it was and couldn’t go back there if we wanted to. That didn’t matter to the children. Trick or Treating is universal. Robbie was very happy to confirm this fact. “Mom! They have the same rules here! No one is going to the houses that don’t have a light on the porch!”

Universal rules make it easy to adjust to new surroundings.

Another pocket of happiness was when we got off the highway last night in Santa Clarita, California (the beginning of the LA area) to sit out rush hour and we found a Camping World. Lol. Camping World is an RV supply store. I have browsed longingly through their website, but have never been in one of their stores. it would have been better had we had actual spendable money! I wanted one of everything. I settled for a massage mat for my bed. It was on sale for $7.00 (!) and the only thing in the store we could afford. I was looking forward to plugging it in at a campground and working out the kinks in my ever-aching body. That wouldn’t happen last night, but I don’t want to get ahead of the story.

Next to Camping World was a Wally-World. We went inside and gave Walmart a little more “stuff” money. Lunch meat and can food and a comfortable bra (that wouldn’t hurt the still healing scar down my back as we bumped down the highway without those shocks we thought we could live without) and toilet paper and we were back out in the RV parking section of the parking lot. As I started dinner in semi-darkness (the house batteries being nearly depleted once again), Dan and the kids read the notice that had been tucked under the window wipers. “No overnight parking in this Walmart . . .blah, blah.”     That’s cool, we weren’t planning to stay over here anyway.

The “plan” as we had planned it was to stop for a couple hours to let the LA rush hour traffic rush on by and then make our way around LA via highway 210 through Pasadena. We would catch 57 at San Dimas down to 10 and head east forever or to Palm Springs. Whichever came first. There in Palm Springs we would find a campground and plug in. Little did we know we would be better off resigning ourselves to the “forever” part of that plan. Palm Springs wasn’t privy to our desires, as it turned out.

We had long before set the kids up with pillows and blankets and they were fast asleep. It took both of us to navigate around LA. It was harry scary changing lanes and following the signs. Tim and Kelli called as we were circling Pasadena.

“What are you doing mom? Are you in the back?”

“Noooo! I am up here with the map. This is a two person job!”

“Oh, wow. That’s really scary if you’re the one giving the directions!”

“Hey! That’s not nice, Kel! True, but not nice! Oh, Get over now! Now! Kel, I have to call you back. . .” Click

We made it to the turn we wanted and over to 10 where we will stay for days and days. And we drove on.

It was around 11:00p when we found ourselves in an exit only lane that claimed a Palm Springs address. We could see city lights off in the distance, but we couldn’t match them up with the lonely road we were headed down. All of a sudden, it turned into downtown Palm Springs and we were driving through a town that last saw an ‘88 motorhome in 1989. The city shops and cafés turned in to neighborhoods and we had no idea where we were. Turn this way. Turn that way. It didn’t matter. There were no campgrounds, or RV motor courts even, anywhere to be found. This really did surprise us. We thought we had heard that Palm Springs was a winter stop for elderly travelers. We felt elderly as the clock struck twelve midnight. (No, wait. That was me striking my cheeks to stay awake. Not the clock. But it was still midnight.) A stop at a convenience store gave us the way back to the Hwy 10 junction where we found a truck stop, but not an RV park. We headed on down the road keeping our eyes propped open with toothpicks. Twenty minutes or so later, we saw a huge RV park. Hurrah! We get off the highway, follow back this way, turn here. Ok, there is a guard at the gate. Nice to find a real person to check in with at this hour.

“We really need a spot for the night.”

“Ah, you have a reservation?”

“No, we’re just passing through. We plan to be back on the road again by seven. So we just need something for a few hours.”

“Hmmm. Well, ah.” The guy looked almost as confused as we looked tired. “You have your card at least, huh?”

“What? You mean plastic? I have a credit card.”

“Ah, no. Your membership card. You are a member right?”

“No. Not a member, just very tired.”

“Oh well, this is a members only park. I was going to have to tell you that I wasn’t allowed to admit anyone after midnight, but now it doesn’t matter! You can’t stay here anyway.”

“Great. Where’s the next campground?”

“I don’t know of any. Your best bet is to go on up the road and about 29 miles you’ll see the casino. They park motorhomes overnight there.”

“We need to plug in. Our batteries are dead.”

“Well. Ah. Good luck with that.”

Dan asked how we were to get back out of there and the old guy (who confessed to being a new old guy) let us pull through the park and drive around the block and pull back out again. We threatened to just find a spot once we got inside and stay there. Old guard guy looked at us long and hard to make sure Dan was kidding. (Dan WAS kidding. “You were kidding, right Dan?” Just checking too.) It was hard to see the empty lots and have to drive on past them and out the park gate again. We were so tired. Oh my, so tired. But we left that park and a relieved old new gate guard behind.

It was half past midnight. And half past our breaking point. We drove on. Jaymi was awake with is now, wondering why we left a perfectly good campground in the middle of the night. Good question.

Soon enough, we saw the casino in question on the left and a camping sign on the right. Following the ramp up and around and over there . . . and around here. . .and . . . Oh, geez! WHERE? Truck Stop. Ask the cop there . . . Take the road next to the Del Taco around to the casino. OK.

Late.

Very late.

We came into the Casino from the back entrance and saw a lot that said “No Camping.” Drove around the hotel and saw a RV PARK! A nice one. A gated one. A gated one without an old guy. OK, then. Looking to the left we saw another lot that had the same sign as the one on the other side of the hotel: “No Camping.” There were three other motorhomes already there not camping. We had no intentions of camping either. Camping means to set our your awning, put up chairs and BBQ some pork. We weren’t in the mood for any of that. We just wanted to PARK and fall into our beds. See “no camping.”

We “No Camped.”

We pulled in behind another fellow doing the same. HE was bigger and we figured they would go after him first and we would hear the ruckus and have time to escape before they could tow us out. (No, we really just didn’t care anymore.) We pulled the kids from the couch and tossed them in their beds and climbed in our own. It was 1:00am. Somewhere between 1:00am and 6:00am, the bookshelf at the foot of my bed fell off the wall and landed in my bed. It just missed my new butt. I think it was around 2-ish. I didn’t move when it happened. I remember telling Dan that the bookshelf fell. I remember him grunting or something. We both went back to sleep.

At 6:40 I woke moaning that I was cold because the bookshelf was on my covers. “What? The bookshelf? Oh, yah.” Dan climbed out of his bed and pulled the bookshelf off my covers- spilling the books all over the place. They fell far enough that I was able to pull the covers over me and sleep another ten minutes while Dan got dressed. By the time he was pulling away, I was in the co-pilot’s seat in my Jammas and robe. Sun glasses completing the ensemble. (My hair matched, too.) We were off again. The kids woke up with their beds moving down the highway!

When we crossed the border into Arizona, I had to admit that I was disappointed with California. I should be fair and say that I was disappointed with the parts of California I was stuck seeing out the window as we passed through. Had we had more time, we could have cruised down 101 and saw the coast change with the latitude. We could have enjoyed the southern beaches and spent time at the parks. It could have been grand. Even those of you in California have to admit that the trek down I-5 leaves much to be desired. (Is there an air freshener spray for all those cows? Please?) One day I will come back and do California the right way and I am sure my opinion will change drastically. But today . . . California . . . Not so good.

Arizona, now. . . Ah . . . It’s got some nice qualities. It has CACTUS! Real wild, standing-out-there-in-the-desert Cactus. The kids and I had never before seen real cactus that was not in a pot in the specialty section of the “Garden Shop” at Walmart. We were very impressed with the cactus.

At the rest stop the kids wanted to BE cactus! That was pretty good. The cactus was a nice pocket of happiness. Took our minds off of the fact that we hadn’t had any electronics in a couple days.

The Cactus Fever lasted a few miles and then we were bored and tired again. Before long, Arizona had something else that we loved.

Dan’s brother GREG!!!

We are here in Phoenix and happy to be stopped. We haven’t started the resting yet. There is too much to fix, clean, charge, and write to relax yet. But it’s coming. Greg and Lori have a beautiful home. The first thing I noticed was that the couch wasn’t moving. It felt marvelous to sit in a chair that didn’t move! Hopefully we can recharge our bodies batteries while we are here too. I think a hot shower will do the trick.

So, signing off for now from Phoenix, Arizona. We’ll be back on the trail again this time tomorrow. I am not going to predict how far we are going to go this time. You figure it out and see if your right. . .

Love to you and yours,

teresa

PS:

We thought we might be delayed here for a day. We are trying to figure out what is causing the batteries to run down before the afternoon even revs up. I think I might have to go lay hands on the old beast and pray . . . I’ll let you know. . .