family – Page 7 – The MoHo and Other Traveling Tales

Overnight camp south of I-80 Angel Creek

We are now at the Rock Springs, Wyoming KOA

With a short day of driving, we arrived at our planned night stop in Wells, Nevada rather early in the afternoon. The temperatures were still hot, and the parking lot at the Flying J, while big and fairly empty, left much to be desired in the way of ambience. Instead, we fired up the CampWhere app and discovered a couple of forest service campgrounds just 8 miles or so south of town.

It helps to see the area on google maps, and see if the road into the east side of the Ruby Mountains looked passable. It also helped that one of the campgrounds had a size limit for motorhomes of 45 feet. Surely with a limit that high, the road must be OK. The higher elevation campground at Angel Lake has a 30 foot limit and we discussed the possibility of trying that one out.

Driving the Angel Lake road was completely manageable as far as the Angel Creek Campground turnoff, and still a bit undecided we thought we would check out the campground before attempting to drive higher. I said, “Let’s just be safe and unhook before we go up this steep, winding road!” Mo agreed wholeheartedly as we looked up along the ridge to see something that looked like it might be the highway.

The campground was delightful, with 18 sites, some too short for even our rig, and yet a few here and there that were plenty long for even the biggest rigs. The camp hostess was a delightful young woman living in a tent shelter with a nice big German shepherd companion. When we asked her about the Angel Creek Road she said without hesitation that we probably didn’t want to take our motorhome up there.

We settled into our site, paid the half price fee of $6. with our senior pass, and unhooked the baby car for a trip up the mountain. Within a few hundred yards we were quite happy that we didn’t have the motorhome. The road is incredibly steep and the drop-offs to the valley below are hair-raising, at least for me, and even in the baby car I found myself leaning inward to supposedly avoid going over the edge.

On our way up the mountain, a huge cloud of smoke from some far distant fires darkened the skies and with the added storminess, the final view of the small lake itself was a bit of an anticlimax. It certainly didn’t make us want to pull off the kayaks and jump in. We didn’t even pay the parking fee to let Abby go swimming, since all seemed a bit dingy and uninviting. The Angel Lake campground was a big surprise, however, with several really big rigs tucked into low shrubs and uneven sites with no actual view of the tiny lake. Sometimes these really high elevation lakes don’t invite me that much, they seem harsh and barren and inhospitable.

In contrast, our little camp at Angel Creek seemed lovely even with the stormy clouds hovering and the smoke coming and going on the winds. Dinner was a simple quesadilla and a walk around the campground afterward made for a lovely ending to the day. We were in bed at a ridiculously early hour, with the wind blowing and rain spattering the roof now and then. With no hookups, but plenty of stored power from the day of driving, we were just fine for the second night of dry camping.

I was so happy that we found another quiet, dark, beautiful place to spend the night since the rest of this trip is fairly well planned. This morning when we woke, there were was still a bit of cloudiness, but by the time we got to Utah the skies were fresh and blue and clear. We stopped at a nice little rest stop for a short walk before traveling east toward Salt Lake.

My turn to drive, and once again the Garmin Girl proved her stuff, taking us along Route 201 to Salt Lake City rather than directly along 80 to I-15. I have driven through Salt Lake many times, and usually the traffic and congestion are horrendous. This time, however, it was a breeze, and we flew right through the southern end of the city and up the Park City grade without a bit of trouble. The grade was as long and steep as I remember, but the MoHo did just fine and traffic wasn’t terribly heavy so we were only slowed down once by trucks trying to keep moving in the two left lanes.

Once we were on I-84 we called brother Dan to see how the other 2/3rd’s of our caravan were doing. They were just an hour behind us, having spent the night at the friendly Walmart in Mountain Home where Don was once stationed when he was in the Air Force.

Mo and I arrived in Rock Springs in time to stop in at the local Walmart for some RV toilet supplies before we drove back to the KOA where we had reservations for all three rigs for the night. Within an hour Dan and Roger joined us and we all were set up in a row in three easy pull through sites with full hookups. We could have easily boondocked another night, but when planning the trip, we were unsure of the weather, and with others in the group everyone decided that a hookup night would be good. The Walmart here in Rock Springs already had some folks parked, and it seems that is one of the “ask to park” stores that welcomes RV’rs.

We had no campfire, but we all sat around the rug and caught up on our travels and already the family stories of kids growing up along the Columbia River in Oregon started making the rounds. I am sure that during the next few days we will hear many more of these kinds of stories, one of the more fun parts of family reunions.

One more great surprise was in store for me. Usually when Mo and I are on the road and my daughter Deanna is trucking somewhere we are one interstate off, or going the wrong way, or on the wrong side of the country. Yesterday morning I called Deanna and told her we were on I-80. She laughed and said,”Oh we are too, but we are way north of you”. They were heading west from Ohio, and going through Rock Springs ! I told her no matter what time it was to call me and she did. At midnight, we got the call, and Mo and I snuck out in the Tracker to drive 4 miles up the road to the Flying J where I got to have a two hour cup of coffee with my daughter before she took over the driving the rest of the way west.

Hmm…coffee at 1 am? We came home and I tried to go to sleep, but of course that was silly. After awhile I thought that maybe processing photos and trying to blog a bit was better than lying there in the dark with my mind spinning! Now it is after 5am, and soon we will be continuing our trek east toward Colorado. Something tells me that I may need to doze a bit today while Mo drives, ya think??

Miles driven today: 365

From the Heart

“It shifted from being written directly to my family and friends to something with more explanation and less from the heart, if you know what I mean. “ “paying too much attention to the reader community and not enough to my own preferences. “

Words this morning from a trusted friend brought me up short. I know the feeling, and I fight it sometimes. Case in point: my last post and this one. There is enough going on around here that I have some things to write about, some life to share, and yet I found myself liking the way the last post looked so much that I didn’t want to upstage it with a new one that wouldn’t have those photos of my pelicans. Now just how silly is THAT?! Mo said, “Well, why don’t you just put the pelicans up on the header photo?” Yeah, ok, I’ll do that, and yet the thoughts behind why I didn’t want to write a new post were still somewhat interesting to me. Sounds like I may be slipping into what this friend described in that last sentence I quoted in the first paragraph!

My Goal: write from the heart. Write about stuff, explain stuff, but keep the heart in it. Write as if I were writing to a trusted friend. Of course, some stuff I wouldn’t even write to a trusted friend so I won’t write that part in here. Those parts are saved for private journals that even my kids will never see. The good thing about this goal is that when I go back and read (and I DO go back and read my own blog), it will be entertaining and fun, and will help me remember not only what I saw and what I did, but how I felt about it. At least that is the goal.

Personal journals, on the other hand, can be incredibly depressing to read later. I journal a lot when I am angry, depressed, or just plain falling apart. Not fun reading. On another note, I don’t seem to have a lot of personal journaling going on now as I did when I was younger. Life is less full of angst and worry and frustration. I guess after 66 years, it is about time, right?

I think especially of this kind of “from the heart” writing when I think of Sherry’s story of David’s journey. I have mentioned them often enough that anyone who reads my blog has probably found theirs. Good news today with 8 million stem cells in his collection! Then, again from the heart, Laurie Brown’s eulogy to her Dad. Semi-True Tales of the Road has been one of those that stands out so far above so many of us that it is hard to see it wind down a bit. The only blog I read for years, I still always watch for a post from Laurie. Many folks mentioned her great campground reviews, but when I think of Laurie, I think of great food stories, seriously funny moments (aka Desert Hot Springs), and the clay oven.

Speaking of bloggers, last week brought us another blogger meet-and-greet treat, with Merikay and Craig visiting our world. They spent a long time hiking the trails of Crater Lake, many that Mo and I who live an hour away have never traveled. Then they camped a couple of nights right here in Rocky Point, giving us the chance to get Merikay and Craig out on Recreation Creek in the kayaks.

I love showing someone how much fun it is to get out on the water in a kayak and this was no exception. We had a perfect day with water smooth as glass for our morning adventure. Getting into a kayak for the first time can be a bit daunting, and once out on the water, it sometimes takes a few moments to get used to that wiggly feeling. Within a short time though, that feeling goes away and your body settles into the balance much like it happens on a bicycle. We had a nice, short paddle for their first run, and I do hope they will try it again. It is such a great way to get up close to the birds and feel a silence on the water that is hard to find any other way.

A little benefit of blog meet-and-greets are the photos! Loree has photos of Jeana on her blog since they met up as Loree traveled east, and we got a great photo of Loree on Jeana’s blog as well. Now isn’t that just fabulous?! Somehow the photos that others take of you are quite a bit different than the ones you might put up on your own blog.

Later that afternoon I invited Merikay and Craig to the house for supper, along with our closest neighbors, Wes and Gayle, our Tucson friends who live here in the summer. We had appetizers on the porch, dinner inside at the dining table, and dessert back on the porch, all accompanied by a few different wines supplied by each of us. I thoroughly enjoyed myself, especially since hostessing a meal is a favorite thing for me to do. I was having so much fun I forgot to take photos of the table, the food, and my guests. I guess that is a good sign.

Fourth of July was wonderful. I do love the Fourth, not for any particularly patriotic reason, but for its ability to bring up happy childhood memories and to create small town joys. As I spent the morning making potato salad and meltingly perfect chocolate cupcakes, I remembered my foster mother, who loved all holidays and taught me to appreciate them with huge church picnics, decorations for everything, and always always great holiday food.

With Melody and family in town, Mo and I drove in for the celebrations. Klamath Falls once again scheduled the holiday parade for 5 in the evening, ending in Veteran’s Park, where the fireworks were scheduled to go off at ten pm when it is finally dark here. It is much nicer to have a later parade and only have to drive to town once. When the parade was in the morning, it was harder to figure out what to do with ourselves while we waited for the fireworks twelve hours later.

This time, the parade was nice, but I still wish we could get more marching bands to come. There was only one. Parades need music! There were lots of red white and blue decorations, however, and the Shriner guys in their little cars always make a parade seem like the real thing. Of course, seeing my son in law and my grandson representing the Klamath County Sheriff’s department was a treat. Kevin is a reserve deputy, and Elric got a big kick out of being in the cop car in the parade. UhOh. Elric is now Xavier, but I keep forgetting. I have no clue why teenagers think they have to change their names, but I am trying to get with the program. Seems to me that Elric is enough of an interesting name, but n-ooo-ooo. He has to make it more interesting! He is 13. What can I say…

Hillary/Axel (remember that other name change I mentioned in the last post?) spent most of the time between the parade and the fireworks volunteering for the face painting booth. Terrible me, I can’t remember what the booth was promoting, but it was some sort of socially redeemable venture, I am sure. We had fun watching her and as the evening wore on, the line grew exponentially. Word was getting around that she was painting some fairly radical faces, unlike the typical butterflies and such. Well, with a name like Axel, who would expect butterflies anyway?

By the time the fireworks started, we were all starting to get fairly chilled, but the bugs weren’t out this year so that was a blessing. Why don’t I remember that even if it is 90 during the day, the air will require sweats, jackets and even gloves by ten pm. I hate to say it, but when the fireworks began we were pretty disappointed. It may have been because of the high winds that evening, but once again the big booms couldn’t seem to rise above the trees lining the lakeshore at Veteran’s Park.

It made for some interesting photos, especially with the full moon rising right where the big fireworks were exploding, but it also made for a few unhappy folks hanging around all evening waiting. Next year we may just give it up and go check out the fireworks at Lake of the Woods, closer to home for us, but not part of that small town Klamath thing that we love.

I guess the small town Klamath thing means there isn’t enough money for a big town fireworks show.

The Delights of Traveling Close

Something wonderful happens when summer finally arrives. The family is nearby, the porch is inviting, the kayaks are waiting, the flowers are blooming. Ahhh. It takes a long time for summer to actually show up in this part of Oregon, but when it does, it is worth the wait. While most of the country swelters and much of the west in on fire, here the mornings are still cool, the nights chilly enough for a comforter, and the daytime temperatures are in the mid 70’s. That is a Rocky Point summer.

My daughter was blessed with a three day weekend and if you remember how life is when you are all working full time, it takes a couple of days to catch up on chores at home. The three day weekend gave her a chance to play, and this time their version of play was a night at the Casa del Sol (our little cabin by the house), with burgers on the grill, marshmallows in the wood stove, and a morning on the water with mom. Somehow busy-ness gets in the way of recreation, and I have only had my grandkids out in the kayaks a few times. I love seeing the look on Hillary’s (who is changing her name to Axel but I still am not “there” yet) face when she gets on the water. She loves it. Melody kept exclaiming, “This is amazing, Mom, this is amazing!”. Grandson Elric chose to hang out at home in the cabin with dad and when Melody, Hillary, and I returned we were treated to a great late brunch cooked up by the son-in-law and grandson.

Good things do come to an end, and the kids headed back to town. Of course, for Mo and I it didn’t matter that it was Sunday night. Mo wandered off to a place we have wanted to camp for a few years and never remember. She called me and said, “Why don’t you meet me and Abby out here at Eagle Ridge, and maybe bring some supper?” Great plan again!

The last time we were at Eagle Ridge we still had the sailboat, and the winds were challenging as usual on these mountain lakes. Once again I remembered why we decided kayaking was easier than sailing! It is a lot easier to launch a kayak than a sailboat and even with all the paddling, it is a lot less work. Eagle Ridge is a Klamath county campground about half way between town and Rocky Point, maybe ten miles from home for us. There are a few primitive sites, no charge, no dump, no amenities except a great view of Shoalwater Bay, a launching dock, and sites right on the water.

The road to the park is about 4 miles of rough gravel and dirt, with not a few bumps, but the MoHo handled it just fine. No one else on the road to kick up gravel to worry about. Except for a couple of fishermen in the early evening, we had the place to ourselves.

Shoalwater Bay is on Klamath Lake proper, and the native algae that our lake has made famous was in evidence. Great kayaking, but probably not something to swim in. It is perfectly safe, but green. I think there is a Blue-Green algae company that is still making a good profit from Klamath Lake. I guess it is the reason our lake is so gorgeous and not surrounded by development. John C Fremont, back in 1857, said this lake wasn’t fit for a horse to drink. The algae is supported by all the natural phosphorus in the lake because of all the volcanic ash from Mt Mazama (Crater Lake) deposited several thousand years ago. The ambient phosphorus load is a big point of discussion about our lake, especially when trying to determine how much phosphorus is coming from the agricultural lands on the Sprague River which feeds the lake.

If you want to see incredibly clear blue water, just head up the hill to Crater Lake. Merikay and Craig are hiking there this week and have some really gorgeous photos of all that blue clarity. Notice, however, that all that clarity doesn’t do much for the water birds. On the other hand, here on Klamath Lake, water birds are everywhere. My favorite, and in my opinion the greatest of all, are the American white pelicans. They winter in Mexico and South America, but every year in March they return to Klamath Lake and the first pelican is the sign that spring is coming, much like the first crocus. They have a 9 foot wing span, and fly in formation much like fighter jets. I suppose it is my favorite part of kayaking around here, coming upon a raft of pelicans and watching them fly. I especially love the black wing tips that don’t show until they are airborne. I don’t often put in a slide show, but I do think this one is worth the band width. Check out the pelicans that we found on our paddle.

https://picasaweb.google.com/s/c/bin/slideshow.swf

We watched the sunset over the bay, and found enough old driftwood to built a nice campfire on the beach in front of the MoHo. I heard recently that Oregon is the only state in the west that doesn’t currently have any large active forest fires. Notice all that green grass and moist vegetation. Of course, it won’t be like that later in the summer, but for now having a campfire was delightful.

The night was silent except for the lake breezes and dark until the moon rose. Not a soul around, and just four miles from the highway. Nice.

Morning came slowly with Eagle Ridge directly east of us, and the dew was thick on the windows. We even had to turn on the furnace for a few minutes with morning tea as we watched the day lighten. Deciding that breakfast back home would be nice, we drove the few miles back to Rocky Point and cooked up a nice Sunday breakfast (even though it was Monday) watched the news, and got ready for our day, much refreshed and renewed by our little side trip.

The flowers are starting to bloom more and more, and I am enjoying the gardens now that the heavy labor of May cleanup has dissipated a bit. We had another load of juniper delivered, and it is piled high in the MoHo shed, so the big job of splitting and stacking has begun. July is about good weather and having fun, but it is also about getting in the firewood, spraying the deer repellant, and mowing the lawns.

We keep driving to Grants Pass, thinking that someday when we are “old”, we will settle over there out of the snow into a better growing season. I looked around last week at this beautiful place and said, “No”. Let’s just stay here till we have to go into a home somewhere. Worst case scenario, we have to pay someone to help now and then with the hard stuff. But every time I drive to town, or over the mountain to the “other side”, and then return I feel my breath quicken at the sight of that murky lake below in the sunlight. I am thrilled by the birds, the silence, the clear sunny skies, the forest. It is home. I guess that is why we have a motorhome after all, we can leave in the winter, we can travel if we want to, but we have home right here. I don’t want to give it up, even for a growing season that would let me have more flowers.

A parting thought here, one that came to me last week as we were traveling home from Oroville:

Sometimes, when riding in the MoHo, memories wash over me in waves. Maybe it is the vibration, maybe the changing scenery flying by. Somehow the complexity of my life flows by me like the trees rushing past, ephemeral, hard to catch, hard to track. I was once known for my phenomenal memory, spitting out dates like “Oh that was on a Tuesday in 1987”. Memories used to be like individual stories, with a beginning and an end, solid and real and separate. Lately, as life gets more and more full, and the memories begin to stack up, they are becoming more fluid, overlapping each other and flowing by in complex scenes, just as rich, but somehow with more flow. I wonder if that is what the old folks in the rocking chair on the porch are experiencing, that magical, colorful flow. I like it.

On the Road Again

Seems as though I just got home from Texas, but when I looked at the calendar it has been over two weeks since I returned. Geez. Don’t blink, or life will speed right over you, minus the speed bumps to slow you down!

The MoHo is in Brookings, where the snow never flies and chains are never required, and we try to get over there for a road trip at least once every month. A week or two on the road is always a great reprieve from everyday life, even if that everyday life is really quite wonderful.

For our last few trips we have traveled a good distance, often heading south into California to find warm sunshine and blue skies in the winter. This time we decided that it would be great to just hang out in our own beautiful state of Oregon and explore the hidden nooks and crannies in the Willamette Valley and surroundings that we have missed while running off to the coast and then heading south.

Mo found an Oregon website of all the covered bridges in the state, something Oregon is famous for, so we have the google map with 71 bridges pinpointed to guide us. Will we see them all? Of course not. Who knows how many we will actually see, but it gives us a little bit of something to make us move from one place to another at least. We have no plans, no reservations, no particular destination. We are going to wander for two weeks and see what appears. Oregon is just so beautiful this time of year, especially on the west side. The flowers are blooming, the orchards are blossoming, the grass is green and often the skies are blue.

Here at home, on the east side of the Cascades just south of Crater Lake, spring is just barely coming out. All it takes are a few more warm days and I should have at least the beginnings of flowers and blossoms on our own trees. With a little luck, we won’t miss the tulips coming into bloom that I planted last fall.

I returned from Texas barely in time to take a breath and prepare for Easter. With my oldest daughter in Texas, my middle daughter plying the country with her truck, and my son way back in Missouri, once again I was blessed by the fact that my youngest lives in Klamath, close enough to bring the family for a wonderful day of spring time celebrations. This year they came the night before so they could be here for the early morning festivities. With the kids now 19 and 13 the Easter Bunny doesn’t have to stay up late to hide eggs any more, but we still love that big Sunday morning breakfast and waking up together for coffee and family time.

Kevin, my SIL, brought his Big Green Egg BBQ and smoker out for the day and made some of his famous baby back ribs while Melody followed some great instructions for coloring eggs with silk ties. They were gorgeous! We are all planning to collect more ties for next Easter.

The rest of the day we made an Easter cake for entertainment. With some internet searches, the kids decided on the “bunny butt in the stump” chocolate cake. I had to buy fondant for the bunny and the decorations. That was a shocker! Fondant comes in a tub for about 20 bucks, and then I had to buy the different fancy colorings to go with it. It feels a bit like play-doh and tastes a bit like old gum. Ah well, the cake and frosting were fabulous and the decorating was so much fun. Who cares if you don’t eat the fancy green leaves and cute flowers. My 13 year old grandson was pretty good at flower making, and while I expected my artistic granddaughter to do well with this, the grandsons enthusiasm was a surprise. We had a great day together.

Monday morning I was back to work, again racking up two weeks straight of soil survey work to give me the freedom of another two weeks off so we can amble off in the MoHo. I spent the rainy weekend in between finally finishing the quilt table runner for my friend Maryruth and finishing up the baby blanket I started over a month ago when Mo’s new grand niece was born. Sure glad I got it done before she was too big to care!. An easy pattern with inexpensive yarn that is washable made it a simple gift. It was cuddly!

Blogging of course slipped way back to the bottom of the list. Reading blogs slipped as well. In fact, I realized that I was letting the blog world take up much more of my time than I wanted. I made the difficult decision to stop following many blogs so that I wouldn’t feel as though I was always behind. I have heard other bloggers mention this problem lately. Some have discussed it much more eloquently than I can. The whole thing has just expanded exponentially. I went back to my original reason for blogging, keeping track of my life for myself, my own personal diary, and letting those who care about me know what I have been up to.

Of course, I have made some real friends through this blogging thing, and of course there are some old friends I continue to follow, but I am giving myself permission to opt out, to quit worrying if I am blogging enough, or am interesting enough, or paying enough attention. I refuse to compete for comments or readership. It is just too yukky. If you are still here reading, thanks. In the mean time, I’ll do like several other bloggers have done recently and be really happy that I can look back and see what I was doing this time of year back in 2010 or 2008 or whenever. I can’t count the times that Mo says to me, “When did we do….?” and I will answer, “Let me go check the blog”.

Today and tomorrow we will load up the Tracker one last time before bringing the MoHo back home. The kayaks are coming down and going on top, the bikes are going on the rack in back, we are packing shorts and raincoats, and everything in between. Wednesday morning we will head for Brookings. I haven’t a clue where we will go next except it will be somewhere right here in Oregon.

To Texas, no Mo, and no MoHo either.

Why in the world would an RV loving traveler drive to Texas without her motorhome? Kids! Always blame it on the kids. My daughter decided it was time to move to Texas and we decided together that it might be nice for me to help her drive the UHaul. Gives us lots of mother-daughter time, right?

Quality time in a loud bumpy truck pulling a car on a trailer, covering up to 800 miles per day. Blog stories about our regular RV travels are leisurely rambles from place to place with all the wonderful delights of carrying along your food and kitchen, your bedroom, not the least of all, your bathroom.

I kept thinking I didn’t need to really blog about this at all, since it isn’t really part of the MoHo Travels, but it is a record of what in the heck has been happening in my life, so here it is. Not leisurely, not filled with campground reviews and hikes and beautiful sights. Just the road, the unfurling yellow lines, the sunrise as we keep moving east, the glare of headlights as we continue driving into the night.

We drove down I-5, so familiar from the many trips Mo and I have taken on that route, with many sections repaired and much better than they have been in the past. We crossed the pass over 58, surrounded by snow but without any falling on us. We passed Desert Hot Springs buffeted by the desert winds, spending a night in a motel in Indio. Crossing Arizona and New Mexico, Deb got her first view of Mexico across the “mighty” Rio Grande overlooking El Paso toward Juarez, at 60 mph. I told her long stories of the history of the Rio Grande River and how it has been used and reused and dammed and diverted until the trickle that makes it to the gulf no longer feeds that sea with richness and the shrimp are dying.

We drove many miles within sight of the border, going through some border checks, and after 800 miles that day we slept again at a motel in Van Horn, Texas and rose before sunrise for the last leg into San Antonio. Deb was enthralled by the Texas Big Bend Country, the mesas and long vistas, her first view of this kind of landscape. I called Mo after many hours of no cell service and her first words were, “Have you been hit by a tornado?” I guess two tornados touched down in Dallas as we were approaching San Antonio, but that was north of here and they are now moving northeast so we are fine.

We covered 2030 miles together in 3 days of driving, with gasoline running 4.15 in most of California and 3.79 here in Texas. The UHaul got less miles per gallon than the MoHo and we spent just over $1000. bucks on gasoline, didn’t eat a lot, and paid 63 to 99 for the hotel rooms for the 5 or 6 hours of sleep we allowed ourselves. I had my cell phone, but I can’t believe how many hundreds of miles on a large interstate don’t support any bars at all, much less any kind of internet. I read a few facebook posts from bloggers here and there, but don’t have a clue what is going in the blog world except for a few really important things.

East on I 10 through Texas Nan is hanging in there while her husband fights to breathe. Pray for her. Al and Kelly are almost home, and my heart broke along with everyone else when I read that little Cora Motormouse was gone. I know Rick and Paulette are home in Canada, Erin and Mui went camping among the bluebells, Laurie and Odel are making tracks to central California, Karen and Al got their kayaks in some really gorgeous water, and Donna and Russ are having some doggie troubles. I’ll catch up eventually with the rest. For now, my daughter and her Texas honey are unpacking a big truck into a small home and I am sitting in another motel with air conditioning to adjust to the high temperatures and humidity. I plan to sleep a lot between now and the time I fly back home to Oregon and my simple life.

Trips like this one really make me see how lucky I am to have the chance to travel in a motorhome. Although the hard push of a fast road trip actually has it’s pleasures as well. White line fever he called it, wasn’t that Merle Haggard? There is something extremely satisfying about covering a lot of miles in a short time with a hard push. It was fun. I am beat to death and tired as heck, but it was a blast. I am really going to miss having my daughter as close as Portland, but I guess this will just be all the more reason for Mo and I to go spend some winter times in Texas with the MoHo.