RV Bloggers – Page 2 – The MoHo and Other Traveling Tales

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.

Day Trip to The Slabs

It is five am and I have been awake for awhile now, who knows why. We have been traveling for the last few days, choosing to follow the coastal route through California north from the desert. We have taken our time, ambling north at a rate of about 250 miles per day, taking advantage of Military Family Camps and Passport America to park for the night in reasonable comfort. As usual, when I can’t sleep, I thought perhaps I could write about something with a bit more depth than I am inclined to write later in the day when real life is closer than my dreams.

For many days now, I have been thinking about what to write about Slab City, otherwise known as the Slabs. It is easy to post the photos, to write about the physical reality of the place. Many folks on the road in this part of California have done just that. The physical reality of the Slabs is simple. It is located in a wide open part of the desert east of the town of Niland that has little to offer except simply space. On a section of state land that once held the Camp Dunlap Marine Training Center, there is now a free boondocking oasis for RV’rs of all kinds.

At first glance, entering the area is somewhat shocking, depending on your point of view. Folks who come here seeking refuge because they know about the culture will feel welcomed and safe. Mid America types of RVrs in their big rigs coming here for the first time might be overwhelmed by the apparent lack of any sense of beauty or order. Boondocking types who seek wide open empty spaces might think the place is much too populated. Boondocking types who love the Quartzite atmosphere of daily social gatherings of like minded folks will love it.

We had no plans to boondock in the Slabs, but I wanted to see it. Occasionally I read about folks coming here with their thoughts and experiences, but my view of Slab City has been forever altered by the writing of just one man. Randy, of the Mobile Kodgers, let me see this place with completely different eyes than I would have ever seen on my one afternoon drive-through. Randy’s blog isn’t your everyday blog of the typical RVing full-timer. Much like Debra in Bisbee, Randy says things that might make some people a bit uncomfortable, but he tells stories like few people are willing.

Instead of simply gawking, Randy makes the effort to dig in deep and get to know a place and the people who inhabit it. I think it is because of Randy’s blog that I have been unable to actually write about Slab City, knowing that I can’t come close to expressing what Randy has found and the stories behind the trash and the once homeless lost people who have chosen to live there. If you have an opinion of the Slabs and haven’t read Randy’s blog, check it out and learn something. I surely did.

After a bit of a disappointing drive around the Salton Sea, we saw a sign for Niland and Salvation Mountain. Mo had no idea what awaited us, but I told her that we needed to go there and see it in person. We took the gravel road east and in a short time the multicolored painted mountain appeared. Salvation Mountain is a story of it’s own, again Randy has written about the artist in depth, in ways you might not find on websites telling the story of this amazing piece of crazy folk art.

I cannot even come close to writing about Leonard Knight the way that Randy has. Here is his story about the creator of Salvation Mountain. It was with awe and respect for all the different people in the world that I walked through the nearly psychedelic interior of the hill. We walked past great piles of paint buckets donated by every major paint company in America into one man’s vision of the message of God’s Love.

Deep inside we found four young folks and their dog, taking photos, and they asked me to get a shot of the four of them. They were friendly, open kids, who had driven from Tucson to spend New Year’s Eve at Slab City. They looked at me when I asked why they were here with surprise, as if I should know that the New Year’s Eve party at the Slabs was something not to be missed. While one young woman casually rolled a joint, they told me that Slab City was a dummied down version of Burning Man, only it lasted all year long.

There are no police here, and rules of any kind are conspicuously absent, an important feature to folks who choose to come here and stay. Dogs run freely, rigs range from huge Class A’s to ancient trucks covered with folk art. There is a library and an internet café, tucked away in old buses or tin shacks behind cape verde trees. There is trash everywhere, and much of the trash has been converted to art.

In the midst of the dusty dirt roads, we suddenly realized that an airplane was landing in front of us, and like the other trucks driving around, we pulled over to the side of the road to let it land. The pilot of the small plane taxied up to his big Phaeton, greeting some fellow campers. No rules.

I am pretty sure that Mo and I will not ever choose to boondock here. Our vision of boondocking is more on the level of wide open and silent, like the area behind the Alabama Hills in California, or the Top of the World Highway in Alaska. We have parked in Quartzite, but not during the high season, and our idea of fun socializing is more often one couple at a time rather than big gatherings of happy hour get togethers. Still, I am so glad I got to see this place, had the chance to walk inside Salvation Mountain rather than just look at photos, had the chance to watch a little plane land on the dirt road, and to see the myriad types of shelters that so many people call home.

I am glad there is a place like this in the world for those who choose to be there.

Meeting up with another blogging mentor

Last year when we were in Desert Hot Springs, Rick and Paulette were still tucked away at home in British Columbia, but since I follow Rick’s blog I knew that this time our visit would hopefully include a meeting with the two of them. I emailed Rick and we said we would catch up with each other sometime during the week. Rick didn’t waste any time and as we were relaxing with tea yesterday morning I heard the sound of a diesel truck slowly passing our site and looked outside to see a familiar face. Rick was hunting us down!

As is so often the case with RV bloggers, it was instant recognition and familiarity. We sat in the warm morning sun for awhile visiting and making plans to get together on Monday night at a local restaurant.

After our day circling the Salton Sea we were happy to spend Sunday relaxing, swimming, going for some park walks, and for me, knitting. I will be working on my daughter’s birthday sweater for a very long time. KarenInTheWoods saw a comment of mine regarding sock knitting and sweetly sent along a sock pattern to me. She called it a simple pattern, but I don’t exactly think it is THAT simple, Karen, but Thank You!! I’ll keep working on the sweater and try knitting up these fat warm cozy socks next winter. Karen mentioned that she loves to knit while riding along in the motorhome. I love that as well, although the bumpy California roads have made that attempt a bit awkward.

The warm weather and gorgeous sunshine is conducive to real relaxation, and we planned another day of the same on Monday so that we could watch the Rose Parade and then the Rose Bowl with our home team, the Oregon Ducks actually winning the Rose Bowl. Fellow blogger Merikay is actually in Pasadena seeing the parade and the game and I am looking forward to her stories about that fulfilled dream of hers.

After the parade and before the game we decided to drive out Dillon Road to the east to find Blair’s RV shop, highly recommended by Rick for obscure RV parts and an extensive knowledge base tucked away in the owner’s head. We found the small part we needed to fit the smaller than usual sewer pipe at Catalina and were on our way farther east to check out Thousand Palms Oasis. Our plan was to hike with Abby, but even on the east side of the Coachella Reserve we found signs saying “No Dogs”. Ah well, there are lots of other places where we can go with Abby and tomorrow we will head for one of them.

Mo and I both love roads that wind off into nowhere and as we drove back north toward Dillon road, we found an old worn out once paved track leading up into the hills. Let’s go! The road was rough, but the Tracker can handle that and we followed the path through the desert. The desert seems to be a very popular place for people and guns, because scattered along the road were several groups of people shooting. I noticed most of them had targets that looked like human silhouettes, and while shooting at bottles or bulls eyes seems innocuous enough, those human targets really bother me.

The road looked like it would wind back toward Indio Hills but instead we ran into a complete dead end right in the middle of a large group of young, somewhat rowdy looking shooters. They all had plugs in their ears and basically ignored us except for some irritated looks as we attempted to turn the tracker around on the half lane dirt track. I had a close up look at the guy’s pistol, black and pretty scary looking.

We found several places that looked as though they might be great boondock sites, but I didn’t think we wanted to compete with the shooters or listen to the gunshots all day long. The desert has an earned reputation as a haven for independent sorts of people that don’t particularly like rules and treasure their freedom. My favorite of all time, Ed Abbey, was one of those types, as are these gun toting shooters. Philosophies as wide apart as night and day, and yet both still at home in the desert.

Trundling back to our safe and sane site at Catalina, we turned on the game and spent the rest of the afternoon cheering along (and sending little encouraging emails to Russ) when the Ducks kept getting touchdowns. The game started at 2 and our dinner get together was scheduled for 6. It was an exciting game, with each team scoring like leap frogs, but the Ducks carried it off in the end. Our only problem was we had a half an hour drive to Palm Springs and had to leave during the last four minutes of the game. I fired up the phone and Mo fired up the radio and we managed to finish out that last four minutes while heading for town along Dillon Road.

Downtown Palm Springs was all lit up with Christmas lights and people were walking the streets as usual in the warm desert evening. Parking wasn’t a problem on a side street and we saw the smiling faces of our new friends waiting in front of the historic restaurant. Rick took some great photos and wrote about the restaurant as well, so I won’t try to do it all over again.

I will say that we had a great time talking about some of the similarities and differences between our two countries. My favorite part was learning that watching American politics is a spectator sport in Canada! Of course, Paulette and I share the delight of daughters, she has four and I only have three, and each of us has only one son. Discussing adult children and their various life choices made for some funny observations for all of us. Paulette is a lovely person with a great blog of her own all about her quilting passion and I so enjoyed having time to visit with her.

I must say that meeting Rick was wonderful. Back when I first discovered a blogging community, Laurie pointed me to Rick’s tips about how to manage blogger and blogging in general. I learned a lot from Rick, and he has never failed to almost immediately answer any question I have asked him via email with excellent instructions. I discovered in person a kind, funny, easy going man who is willing to spend time writing about stuff that many of us haven’t a clue about in a way that is understandable. There are times when Rick’s instructions get right to the point of some hidden trick and I really appreciate that he takes the time to put it out there.

Thanks, Rick.