RV resorts – Page 3 – The MoHo and Other Traveling Tales

Whatever it takes…

to get South outta the cold and snow…

Mission Bay RV Resort, San Diego, CA Clear, High 79F Low 61F

It doesn’t matter a bit that we have to drive several hundred miles, almost the full length of the state of California. Doesn’t matter a bit that for much of that drive we are traveling through the hazy warmed up fog/smog that blankets the Central Valley for much of the winter. Doesn’t matter a bit that we must drive over the Grapevine with bumper to bumper semi’s jockeying for position. Doesn’t matter one whit that we decided to drive straight through LA on I-5 to get south to San Diego. Whatever it takes, it is worth it to get south to the sunshine and blue skies that were waiting.

We left Lodi after a leisurely breakfast, knowing we had only 250 miles or so to reach our destination at the Orange Grove RV Park just east of Bakersfield. We were really happy to see that much of the surface of I-5 has been redone since our last trip south and even with the smog, oops, I mean haze, it was wonderful to soak up the sunshine pouring in through the windshield. Before 2:30 in the afternoon we pulled into the park and settled into space 177 at the far end of the row near the back. We were also delighted to discover that there was a free RV washing area. With a huge bag of oranges that would cost as least five bucks and a free RV/car wash that would cost another ten bucks in quarters, our “real” cost of spending the night at this non Passport America park came to about 18.00.

With the orchard fruit picker provided at the camp office, I managed to fill a giant cloth grocery bag in just a few minutes. Yum. The smaller oranges on the outside perimeters of the trees were sweeter, and for the last couple of days I have made some delicious fresh orange juice for breakfast. With the MoHo and Tracker all shiny and a simple spaghetti supper we were ready to settle in for a great night.

Of course, fate just had to mess with us a little bit to keep us from taking too much for granted. After supper I popped in the 3rd disc for the first season of Homeland and was greeted by a strange message on the fancy dvd player/home theater system installed in the MoHo. It has worked fine now for five years, but tonight it decided to jam with the dvd in the drive. We went online to check for a solution, and discovered in the process that the unit is permanently wired into the rig with no sign of a place to unplug it. Mo turned off the breaker and we spent close to a couple of hours taking the whole thing apart while it was still hanging from the cubby hole in the MoHo. We finally gave up and broke the dang thing completely apart to get out the Netflix dvd. That wasn’t much fun at all, and we still have no clue how we are going to replace the unit, or what to replace it with. Thank goodness the TV still works.

After a good night’s sleep, we both decided to not talk about the ruined player and went on to have a great day driving south once more. Bakersfield was a smoggy oops hazy, as ever but as we drove up over the Grapevine the haze receded and even going into LA the smog wasn’t bad at all. Even the traffic was bearable going right through downtown. (Mo is listening to me as I proof this, and she just said “That is because you weren’t driving!) There were a few sections of the 5 between the San Fernando Valley and downtown where the lanes were so narrow it seemed impossible for two big rigs to pass, but we managed with only a couple of rather scary moments as big rigs took up 1/4 of our lane and someone was right next to us on honking because we had to drift to avoid the truck. Whew! It looked as though the engineers had made six lanes out of five to make room for more traffic without widening anything to fit .

Once we passed Disneyland and Buena Park the traffic thinned out, the lanes widened, and the pavement was again smooth as silk as we rolled on south. A rest stop near Oceanside was interesting, with huge buildings that looked just like beautiful California missions, but were only big bathrooms made to look like missions.

We used the iPad maps (I refuse to download the iOS 6 so I still have google maps on my iPad) to go directly to the RV park without a hitch. We knew that using our Passport America card for a discount meant that we would only be able to stay through Friday morning for the half price cost of $25 per day. We also knew that we couldn’t make a reservation using the card, but Nina’s assertation that this was the low season here proved true and the park was only about half full. In no time at all, we were settled in.

Although the park itself is basically a big asphalt parking lot, the sites are big, there are shade trees all around, and there is great security. The best part of this park, however, is the location. Right on a peninsula that juts out into Mission Bay, there are miles of beautiful parks and trails all round the bay for walking, and the incredible dog park at Fiesta Island just a few minutes away by car.

It’s a Dog’s Life here in this part of San Diego, and today was all about Abby. We took her around the Bay Walk here by the park, and then drove over the Fiesta Island to find the dog park. The island is mostly brown and scrubby, with a somewhat muddy beach, but the dog park is huge, really huge, and is all green and grassy, and the beach that is within the dog park was much cleaner.

After some time on Fiesta Island, we drove around the Bay and crossed one of the more than 300 bridges in San Diego to discover the Dog Beach at the funky old hippie town of Ocean Beach. Even though dogs are restricted to the evening hours on the main beach, the Dog Beach is open and leash free all the time. What an amazing place, with soft white sand and lots of space and waves. I spread out a big towel and sat in the sunshine while Mo and Abby played ball for a long time before I took a turn. I had as much fun watching all the other dogs as I did playing with Abby.

Later in the afternoon we explored Ocean Beach in the car, but didn’t see much that made us want to get out and wander. Driving north to Mission Beach had much the same result, but finally farther north at Pacific Beach we found a parking spot and got out and walked the Beach Walk.

So far, San Diego has been a winner, at least this part has been. We are reading about the various neighborhoods throughout the city and are planning a day at Balboa Park tomorrow. Rumor says it is a great dog friendly place, and should be fun even without a visit to the famous San Diego Zoo. The goal is to stay loose, enjoy our sunny stay here in this new to us city, and not try to fit in so much that we end up feeling rushed and overloaded instead of relaxed.

The Big Horn Mountains and the Medicine Wheel

August 4

On the border between Montana and Wyoming, rising to the west of Interstate 90, are the Big Horn Mountains. Referred to locally as “The Bighorns”, and source of the Little Bighorn River, I still haven’t really figured out whether they are the Big Horn Mountains, or the Bighorn Mountains. Either way, bighorn sheep live in these mountains and they do have big horns.

Living near Spokane and Coeur d’Alene for nearly three decades, Interstate 90 was my most often traveled route east, and many times I passed these gorgeous mountains wishing I could see them up close. I once knew someone who traveled there yearly for hunting, and a very long time ago (in 1971) I traveled across the southern part on the way from Yellowstone to Rapid City. The memories stayed with me, and as we planned this trip I knew that I wanted the Bighorns to be part of our explorations of this part of Wyoming.

There is something mystical and mythical about this mountain range, considered sacred to the Sioux, the Crow, and the Cheyenne for millennia. The centerpiece is the Cloud Peak Wilderness, with a network of hiking trails to remote areas and alpine lakes. On this trip, I knew we wouldn’t have a chance to explore the roadless wilderness, but I planned for three nights in Buffalo so that we could at least explore the three scenic byways that traverse the range, US Routes, 14, 14a, and 16.

Unlike the Black Hills, created when a pluton of magma pushed up through the earth, the Bighorns were created during the Laramide Orogeny, the same geologic event that built the Rocky Mountains. Thousands of feet of sedimentary rock laid down when the landscape was covered by an inland sea were uplifted to build these gorgeous mountains.

The highest peaks are in Wyoming, and Cloud Peak itself is 13,167 feet high. Although there are many evidences of past glaciations, Cloud Peak is home to the only remaining active glacier in the mountain range. Much like the east side of the Sierras, the east flank of Steens Mountain in Oregon, and the east side of the Rockies, the east facing side of the Bighorns rises abruptly from the plains with dramatic, breathtaking views.

When we embarked on our Saturday morning journey, we were thrilled to see that the skies were completely clear all around us except for a low gray-brown pall far to the east. From our route north on I-90 toward Sheridan, we could see Cloud Peak sparkling in the morning sunlight. Highway 14 leads west across the northern part of the range from the small town of Dayton, climbing directly up from the foothills at Dayton, and the views were breathtaking. I discovered one of my favorite parts of Wyoming travel were the clearly marked signs documenting the name and age of each of the geological formations as we crossed them.

By the time we reached the Bighorn Visitor Center near the junction of 14 and 14a I felt thoroughly educated in the geology of the Bighorns. The visitor center was well done, with my favorite 3D maps of the mountain range, and many educational exhibits telling of the human and natural history of the mountains. Hanging over all, in the center of the dramatic timber frame building, were photographic panels of Cloud Peak, majestic in her isolation.

Somehow, in all these years, I had never heard of the Bighorn Medicine Wheel, and yet after talking about it I have discovered that many of my friends have been there. Having never even heard of it before this day in the mountains though, made it all the more special to me.

We drove the high winding road to the summit before finding the side road to the Medicine Wheel site and the head of the trail to the structure. There is a road that goes out there, unless you have a documented disability, you must walk the short 1.5 mile trail to the site. Later we laughed with friends who had been there, since it is one of those trails that seems to be uphill both ways! Maybe it is because of the elevation, who knows.

The walk is beautiful, with views in all directions to the plains to the east, the Wyoming desert to the west, and the canyons to the north. The Medicine Wheel is at nearly 10,000 feet near the summit of Medicine Mountain. It is built from stones gathered from the surrounding area, with a circular rim, 28 spokes extending from the rim to the center, and a series of seven cairns. It was built between 700 and 1200 AD and has been used since then by many local tribes for prayer, fasting and visioning. To this day, Native Americans come to the wheel to pray and for ceremonies, and the enclosure is hung with prayer flags of all sorts.

An astronomer studied the wheel in the 70’s and published his discoveries, showing that the cairns were aligned in the direction of the summer solstice sunrise and sunset. He also found that the rising points of the stars Sirius, Aldebaran, and Rigel are marked by other cairn pairs. More information about this interesting study of the wheel can be found here.

Walking to the Wheel, standing in the high place where so many others have stood, was an experience I won’t soon forget. I felt much as I did when standing at the Mnidra paleolithic temple on Gozo, and in the Grotto of St Paul on Malta, and in the Hagia Sophia in Turkey. Sacred places are made sacred for so many reasons, but this one felt as sacred as any I have visited.

Talking with the ranger at the site was fascinating. She enjoys her stint on the mountain, living there for the summer months. She told us that the day before had been fogged in completely in the morning and then smoked in completely in the afternoon. One more time we were blessed by the wind and weather gods for incredible views of an incredible place.

We lunched near the summit back on the highway, and then drove down the steep canyon to the dull brown of the Wyoming badlands before reaching Worland and the eastern route, Highway 14, back up over the mountains. The road climbs up the canyons to Shell Creek Falls, with paved trails and overlooks, lots of interpretive signs, and a visitor center. Much to our dismay, however, our dogs couldn’t even walk on any of the trails, and we found it hard to find a place where they could relieve themselves. Again, we appreciated traveling in pairs so that one pair could go see the falls while the other took care of the dogs back at the cars. By this time in the afternoon, the sun was hot!

Continuing over the mountain back to our junction near the visitor center gave us views of the rolling summits of the Bighorns, with broad areas of dark conifers accented by green high mountain meadows. We even saw a bit of the Cloud Peak Wilderness to the south. By the time we drove back down the steep east face of the range, it was late afternoon. All of us were too tired to even think of stopping in Sheridan, a town that according to everything I have read is a place worthy of its own visit.

Instead we ambled back to our camp in Buffalo, appreciative of the grassy open spaces, the big shady trees, and the comfortable sites that were far enough from the highway that we didn’t have a lot of road noise. I can highly recommend Deer Park Campground in Buffalo. Our three nights there were perfect for the time we had to explore the surrounding area. The Bighorns were on my bucket list, and I finally got to see them. There are a lot more photos of this great day including the Bighorn Mountains and the Medicine Wheel here.

South to California

Hitch Itch. Full timers get it, folks with an RV parked in the shed get it too. The past couple of weeks have been focused on work and home chores, and we both knew we wanted to get in another local camping trip before we head for Colorado at the end of the month. Medicine Lake comes to mind first, a favorite high mountain destination, but we thought there might still be snow there this early. Then fate stepped in with an invitation to a retirement party in Davis, California for a colleague. We thought about it a bit and finally came up with a plan. Oroville!
There is a big lake there, nice campgrounds, my best friend and her husband are right there, and it is just a two hour drive to Davis so I could go to the party. Calling the State Recreation Area phone number for reservations, we were shocked to find that electric hookup sites (no sewer) at the Bidwell Canyon Campground cost $45.00, plus the reservation fee. Geez. California parks are too dang expensive. So I looked around a bit and came up with the KOA RV Park that is adjacent to the Feather Falls Casino and for $37.00 got a nice site with full hookups, free WiFi, cable TV and a heated swimming pool. Hmmm, not such a bad idea. We figured that we could go to the lake for kayaking without paying that crazy price.
Sunday morning we decided to drive to Grants Pass to check out another possible MoHo property and then travel south on I-5, a route we rarely travel between Medford and Weed. The day was gorgeous and cool, with a bit of cloud cover and the drive was perfect. I always smile when bloggers post the photos of amazing Mt Shasta, and decided that I didn’t need to stop once again to take one more picture of “the mountain”.
The trip was wonderful and as always it feels so freeing to be in the MoHo on the road. I said to Mo, “It isn’t just going somewhere that I love, it is the movement, the feeling of being on the road, the scenery sliding by, the skies ever changing”. I guess I like that hum and vibration somehow. Sounds completely silly to me when I write it, and yet I do know the feeling. Bet others do too.
When we arrived at the KOA we were pleasantly surprised, but not before a moment or two of confusion. You see, there are two casinos in Oroville, and I thought we were somehow going to the one that is on the road to Maryruth’s house. Instead, the GPS kept trying to send me south of town to a completely different area. Turns out we really DID have the reservation south of town and not on Maryruth’s road at the Gold Country Casino.
Once settled in, we discovered what I think is the best KOA we have ever seen. I often avoid these parks because they seem expensive and crowded. This one won a Presidents Award of some kind and I can see why. The sites were absolutely, perfectly level concrete pads, surrounded by large lawns, with a wide parking area along the road in front of your site for the toad. There were picnic tables and plenty of shade under our very own lovely oak tree. There were even two dump outlets on the site, one in front and one in back which we so appreciated. So many parks are set up for just 5th wheels and pickup trucks and the dump is completely out of reach of a motorhome.
The grounds were beautifully manicured, the swimming pool clean and heated, with an adjacent holding pen for your dog, the hot tub fresh and hot, and the clubhouse cool and roomy. The store and office had a great supply of anything you might need. With the KOA club card, which ended up paying for itself after all the freebies, got us 20 bucks in free casino money in addition to the 10 bucks we got with our site. We were also informed that a simple phone call would bring the casino shuttle right to our camp site on demand. Right to the site! Ha! The funniest part of this story is that in the four days we were in Oroville, we never managed to get up to the casino and our coupons went unused.
On Monday, we decided to explore the Thermolito Forebay area, a part of the huge Oroville Dam complex of water management systems. The forebay was a perfect place for kayaking since there are no motorized boats allowed. It’s really nice not to have to compete with jet skiis and bit boat wakes and noise. I really love the MotionX GPS app for my iPhone, mentioned by Rick recently, and have used it now for several kayak paddles. It is fun to see just how fast we have paddled, how many miles we have covered and where we have been on the map. It even links photos to the sites and then I can upload the track to Facebook or send it via email. Just tickles me no end. Of course, another quirk of GPS is the excellence of X and Y and the complete goofiness of the Z factor, elevation. We discovered to our surprise that on our nice little lake the elevation changed by 30 feet while we were out there. Too funny.
I have had a few questions from readers regarding how hard it is to get in and out of the kayak so I made a quick video of the process, just for laughs. I am still trying to figure out how to get the video to embed without any luck, so may just add the YouTube URL in case you want to see it. If I can do it, anyone can!

Maryruth and Gerald came out to our little shady campsite that evening and we all went up to the Feather Falls Brewery where we were able to use the other coupons that gave us a discount on food. After dinner when we thought about playing the slots we all thought better of it and just went back to the campsite instead. Tuesday was our day to visit at their home, to see all the beautiful garden work that Gerald has done, and enjoy some of Maryruth’s legendary cooking.
Often Oroville can be unbearably hot, and just the week before we were there the temperatures were in the triple digits. For us, instead, we had beautiful skies, not a speck of smog or haze, and temperatures in the mid to high 80’s. Couldn’t have been more perfect.
On Wednesday Maryruth took us out to her sister’s houseboat for an afternoon on the water with lots of good food and drink. The shuttle picks up passengers at the marina and takes you right to your boat, and even let us bring the dog. We settled in with sunscreen, comfy chairs, and good conversation with a view of the water all around us. Abby and I both even managed a good swim. Mo was a bit concerned about getting her back on the deck of the houseboat, but in nothing flat, with a little encouragement, Abby learned how to climb that ladder right back up on the boat.
Thursday morning we decided to explore some other areas for kayaking, including the Afterbay and the Diversion Pool. The big lake itself it fine for kayaking as well, but not nearly as interesting. The last time we were there we encountered a lot of wind and boats, and there is a large area of houseboats near the launch that require navigating through before you get to some more open water.
I left Mo in the shade of the oak tree mid morning to go meet my friends in Davis. There are so many people that I know from California, and it was so good to see everyone. Dean Burkett, who had a position in Chico like my position in Oroville had also come to detail and map for me while I was there and we developed a great friendship.
When I had my retirement party two years ago, Dean gave up a 22 year tradition of attending a rendezvous to come to my party instead. You can bet I wasn’t about to miss his retirement send off! I also got to spend quality time with the other two “Sue’s”. We are all a rather interesting phenomenon in California, all GS-12 managers, all in California, and all named Sue. In a career choice that at one time didn’t have many women, this is particularly funny. We called ourselves “the three Sues,” Sierra Sue (me), Coastal Sue in Arcata, and Valley Sue in Davis. Plus we all have kayaks! The three sues kayak trip is still in the works, but we keep talking about it. I still sometimes get emails meant for one of the other sue’s and they get mine. It IS a funny thing.
I stayed much to late and arrived back home to the KOA far too late for Mo and I to attempt to gamble away our coupons as originally planned. Instead we got a few hours sleep before taking off the next morning by 6:30 AM. After all, I had a quilt class in Merrill, at the Tater Patch and couldn’t miss it. It was the final class in a group of three that I have attended. We decided to leave early enough to take the back route home, via Highway 70 along the Feather River, north to Lake Almanor and Susanville, and then on to Merrill. It was a gorgeous drive over a road I haven’t seen for more than 40 years and I loved every minute of it.
We arrived in Merrill just a few minutes before my class started, unhooked the baby car so Mo could go on home, and I managed to finish the series without falling asleep at the machine. Let me tell you I was one tired puppy when I pulled into the driveway in Rocky Point that evening, glad to be home and completely satisfied with what turned out to be a really great week.
Next up: an amazing kayak on Shoalwater Bay and camping at Eagle Ridge just ten miles from home!

Don’t believe everything you read on the Internet

Seems as though time just slides by beautifully when winter slips in. This was a work week for me, and the one day I had to drive to town to the “real” office was the day before the huge northwestern snow storm blew in. Lucky me! The rest of the week I worked at home, snug as can be in my little office with the wood stove cranked up high and the cat snuggled in next to me in his bed. Mo plowed a few times, I shoveled and ran the snow blower, and we hauled half a cord of wood to the porch, but the storm didn’t cause us a bit of trouble.

I am working on a rocky soil problem, and my head is filled with stones, cobbles, boulders, and gravels of all sizes. Each of these has a specific size and description of course, and eventually I will get it all sorted out and plugged into all those nice little NASIS fields and someday someone will request some interpretations for the Knot Tableland and out will pop a nifty little report, generated specifically for their area of interest from the data we gather, refine, and populate.

As I sit in the office fiddling with numbers, my mind wanders back to 2004 and 2005 when I was mapping out on the Knot Tableland, and dug a ton of holes in those stones, cobbles, and gravels and described those soils. It was hot and dry, and most of the time I was alone. That is the way we work in soil survey more often than not.

So this week, my mind has been split between recalling those memories as I look at my old descriptions, and talking on the phone with the project leader in Klamath till my ear was sore. ( I gotta get another ear piece!) We resolved the issues, and on this Saturday night, two more soils are written, cleaned up, and put to bed in NASIS.

Then, right in the midst of the worst of the windy snow, I got a call from my daughter Deanna saying that she and her husband were coming down the five and did we want to meet them for a short visit before they chained up to go over the Siskiyous. Wow! Deanna and Keith have their own truck and haul jet engines all over the country, but they haven’t been down this way in at least two years. I don’t get to see my daughter very often, so Mo agreed to drive, whiteouts or not, and we headed over the pass to Medford.

We had a great visit at Shari’s, next to the big Pilot truck stop where they could park the rig. I even remembered to bring the sweater I am working on for Deanna to check the fit. It was perfect and she likes the colors. I still can hardly believe this little girl of mine drives that great big truck.

Somehow, in the midst of everything else, remembering the last days of our trip home from the desert up the California coast just slid right by with an occasional thought, “Oh yeah, that!”. So here is the promised “rest of the story”.

When we left Vandenberg, there was a bit of fog hanging around making the hills look mysterious and mystical. The route led through Pismo Beach, a beautiful place to spend some time, but since it was only 9:30 in the morning when we arrived and still quite foggy and chilly, we decided to continue on to San Luis Obispo. First I had to check out the local quilt shop, and with early morning traffic in the small town almost non-existent, we had no trouble parking the MoHo right in front of the store. I browsed through the windows, but decided that waiting another 90 minutes for them to open was silly and we continued on toward breakfast.

Our route home from Vandenberg AFB could have been simply a run up the 101, but why do simple when challenging is an option. We instead decided that we were up for the winding beauty of California’s scenic coast highway 1. Listed in many places as one of the most beautiful drives in the world. Why in the world would we miss the chance to crawl along the steep cliffs overlooking the Pacific Ocean in a motorhome towing a car.

One of my favorite restaurants along this part of the coast the the Apple Farm in San Luis. We were seated in the beautiful glassed in gazebo with brilliant sun shining in the windows framing the lovely hills surrounding us. As usual, breakfast was scrumptious, with home fries and “California Scramble” which included lots of spinach, artichokes, olives and other California stuff. I really appreciate my California upbringing and being exposed to things like artichokes, avocados, and olives as everyday food. I grew up eating lots of fresh stuff from the lush gardens and orchards where we lived that are now just pavement.

We continued north to Morro Bay and our last chance to hightail it back over to the simpler route along 101. The sun was out, the skies were clear, and when we saw the sign saying it was only another 135 miles to Monterey we decided to go for it. It was a great drive. Winding and a bit challenging at times, but nothing too difficult. The only thing about this road that is bothersome is the lack of places to pull over and actually spend time. I was in the passenger seat, and the skies were a just a little bit murky from the morning fog, so my photos aren’t that great. Of course, with the proliferation of digital photography and google search, there are at least a bazillion photos of every single stretch of this beautifully amazing stretch of road. I even have some from other trips we have taken, so I wasn’t too concerned about missing out. In fact, it was nice just being able to do the white knuckle thing now and then without worrying about photography.

Our evening destination was the Military Family Camp at Monterey Pines RV Park and Golf Course. This camp is on the grounds of the Monterey Naval Postgraduate School. We called ahead for a reservation, because even at $30 a night, that was cheap for anything else around that part of California. It was good that we did, because the camp was nearly full. Our rig is technically 26 feet long, and that is what I answer when asked when making a reservation. We were given a nice pull through site on the phone, but when we arrived we were told she had moved us to space 22. I think it was the shortest, tightest space in the park, and a big 40 footer was in our originally assigned space. After crawling around slippery ice plant to try to hook up, and struggling to get level, we decided that in the future we should say we are 30 feet long so we won’t get relegated to the worst sites in the camp!

The campground is adjacent to a beautiful golf course, but the camp itself is really crowded and tight, and is backed up directly to the airport and hangars. Loud noise for much of the night, and the occasional bomb going off now and then made things interesting. We settled in, and decided to try to find a grocery store. Safeway was only 1.5 miles away, but my gosh, the traffic was horrendous! One of those things I forget about California until I get back there. We were glad for a nights rest and hookups, but might not try to come back to this one unless absolutely necessary. There aren’t any Passport America parks anywhere in the vicinity, though, so it was good for a night.

The next day we decided to do another 250 mile run and spent some time searching around Streets and Trips, CampWhere, and AllStays for a place to spend the night. We considered trying to get as far as Trinidad and the free casino, but then found a beautiful little park right on the 101 just north of Willits. Creekside Cabins and RV Resort looked really great on the internet. I tried calling to verify the Passport America Park status, but no one answered so I left a message. After driving through the Bay Area, we were ready for a nice night in a quiet place.

Winding down into a damp, dark canyon, we felt a bit of consternation, but thought maybe the park would be OK. The turn in came up suddenly and we pulled into the driveway only to discover a huge iron gate, tightly closed. It was dark and spooky there, even in the afternoon, but I got out and rang the bell. No answer. We were in a pickle because the rig was cocked at a weird angle and there was no way we would get the car unhooked and we couldn’t back up or turn around. I finally walked into the park and realized that this place might not be the best place to be. There were really old rigs with blue tarps, big dogs with spike collars, strange looking people, and a LOT of junk.

I finally flagged down a somewhat “high” dude and asked him if he could open the gate to let us come in and turn around. He was hemming and hawing but then the camp host appeared, another strange looking woman with wild hair and a gazillion tats and piercings, and said we could come in and look around. One of the reasons we wanted the park was to see some TV that night, Mo was looking forward to one of the debates, and when this woman said, “Yeah we have maybe 6 channels”, we decided boondocking was a far better choice and we managed to get turned around and outta there! Whew!

It was getting late and dark but we got back on the highway thinking we could find a casino, or a pull out or something. I had no cell phone signal, but unbelievably there was still a Verizon signal on the MiFi and I found a park about 40 miles farther up the road. We pulled into Richardson Grove RV Park a little bit later, settling in just before dark and hard rain started falling. We thought we had it handled when we left Monterey. I used all the tools available, found a Passport America Park, used the MiFi and GPS to find it, and still ran into the unknown factor. We still laugh about just how much different that Creekside park looked in person than it looked on the nice internet web site. By the way, it was no longer a Passport America Park, either, and the fees would have been 40 bucks for one night if we had decided to stay.

We surely were glad to return home the next day to our beautiful, safe, cheap, gorgeous space A12 at Harris Beach State Park in Brookings. Ahh, home, or almost home. It was so good that we settled in for two nights and three days before packing up the Tracker, putting the MoHo to bed in the storage building, and traveling home to Rocky Point.

The Polar Plunge for New Year’s Day

I followed a great tradition this morning, celebrating the first day of the year with a plunge into wintry waters. However wintry waters in Desert Hot Springs for me consisted of 94 degree F crystal clear spring water in the lower pool at Catalina Spa and RV Resort. Not a bad way to start the year. I floated silently on my back watching the stars and then swam a slow breast stroke while seeing the sun brighten the skies to the east.

It was only 5:45 am or so, and Mo slept peacefully back at the rig with Abby and Jeremy while I ventured the short walk to the pool. By 6:30 other folks appeared in the pool and spa area for a morning soak. These pools are my favorite part of coming here in the winter. The water is exchanged at a rate of some 35,000 gallons per day, with no sulfur but plenty of healing minerals for achy bones. The swimming pool is cooled from the springs temperature of 130 degrees by adding cooled water, and the spa tub is kept just hot enough at 104 degrees or so. Gotta watch out for the exchange jets, though, that water coming in is HOT!

We love the desert, the silence and emptiness of it all. This part of the desert isn’t exactly silent and definitely not empty, but the air is still desert fresh and the skies are blue and cloudless most of the time. As much as I love being alone in the wild, I also love being tucked into a spiffy spot in a pretty park with goodies all around. It is a completely different experience, yet just as wonderful.

There are more than a dozen different parks in this area, all of them with springs and pools of some sort. Some are expensive and elegant, some are members only resorts, some are just trailer parks and others filled with manufactured homes. It is definitely a snowbird haven with open desert to the east and Palm Springs and shopping south and west.

Catalina Spa and RV Resort seems to be the one we have settled on, and neither one of us has much interest in looking around for anything else. Since this is a members only resort, we can only stay here for seven days with our CampClub USA card, now converted to Passport America, although the folks at Catalina are as yet unaware of the shift. We taped our old CampClub card back together when we realized that maybe we would still need both cards. Good thing. The rate here is fifty bucks a day plus internet without some sort of discount.

There are two areas, the older section called the “lower” park and the newer section called the “upper”. The Upper has a bigger pool, a fancier clubhouse, and 50 amp spaces for the big rigs. The lower section has a funkier adults only pool and only 30 amp sites. It also has older eucalyptus trees and big shady tamarisk rows with oleanders that have to be cut back every year to keep from taking over all the space. Perfect for us since the MoHo is a 30 amp rig.

We stayed up until midnight to watch the ball fall last night, but since that was midnight eastern time, I got plenty of sleep before my early swim this morning. Yesterday we spent a long day driving around the Salton Sea and visiting The Slabs, but that is a story for another day. Today will be a quiet one, with a trip to town for groceries and washing the Tracker, an afternoon of reading and knitting, and finished by a movie trip tonight to see “Warhorse” on the big screen.

Perfect. Just Perfect.