Rocky Point on the Lower Klamath

     What is that saying about the best laid plans? The parts did not arrive to repair the Goose, but I had already paid for the spot in Rocky Point on the lower Klamath Lake and arranged to have my mail forwarded. So Wednesday I was on the road again. Part of my trip was on Highway 199, known as The Redwood Highway, twisting through breathtaking beautiful stands of giant redwoods that scrape the heavens and are inches from scraping the Old Gray Goose. I stopped in Grant’s Pass at a WalMart and bought way too many groceries just because it was so nice to see foods I recognize at prices I expect in places I can find. The refrigerator door wouldn’t lock (so it won’t fly open in transit). My theory is—if it won’t stick and it should, use duct tape and if it sticks and it shouldn’t, use WD40. Big swath of duct tape solved the problem.
     After about four hours on the road (175 miles), Gypsy performed flawlessly and brought us exactly into camp. I parked under three magnificent trees, the smallest of which is 10 feet around. Unlike Smith River where the temperature barely fluctuated ten degrees, it was in the 40’s last night and is expected to reach 80 this afternoon. I picked up my mail (mostly final utility bills for the house, which strangely seems a long time ago), determined that my satellite won’t work (probably because of all the trees), finished the vegetarian chili for dinner and fed and walked Gracie. The stars in the clear night sky were bedazzling. Who needs television when Mother Nature puts on a magnificent display?  
     The positioning of the Goose is perfect. It’s a pull through, nicely level spot. The bath house and office/store are in front, so Gracie can see me from her favorite perch in the driver’s seat. The view from my dining room table is out onto the water. A not-very-hot shower started my day. Breakfast was hot waffles with blackberries. A fat chipmunk munching seed outside the camp store ignored me as I dropped off my outgoing mail.
     Gracie and I walked a couple miles. All along the road are low, shiny-leafed holly plants with the bright blue berries that will turn red by the holidays. Flanked by lush ferns, they could have come straight from a florist display. Paths through the woods are cushioned by layers of pine needles. I found a pine cone nearly a foot long. Alas, we missed the raspberry season, but Gracie does not seem disappointed by the lack of edible berries. Do I even have to mention that Gracie went swimming?    
     Doing laundry was the cheapest so far, one dollar per load and a dollar for over 30 minutes of drying. We fired up our little barbecue grill and Gracie and I cooked pork steaks and grilled ears of corn for dinner over charcoal. Tomorrow I have to back track to get the Goose repaired. This was a nice respite from the coast.    

Still Life in Salmon Harbor

     Thursday Jayleen and I went to the Fred Meyer in Brookings, Oregon again for groceries. We stopped on the way back at the Harbor of Brookings. Among a group of charming shops and restaurants is a shop called Slugs and Stones with amazingly good ice cream. We got giant cones and strolled the boardwalk in the sun and salt air.The tsunami damaged the harbor in the millions of dollars, but the rebuild is remarkable. 
     Friday we "crashed" the empty residence of a wealthy real estate developer down the coast to watch the sun set over the ocean from the back deck. Jayleen’s friend is the caretaker of the property when the owners are not in residence. The house is spacious with views to die for. The wood floors and gas fireplace are warm and inviting. Sadly, the decorator ignored the fabulous location; the formal, almost entirely beige, interior cries out for color and character. The furniture is stiff and uncomfortable. There was a time I would have envied the owners their beautiful home. Not now.
     Several afternoons have been warm enough even in late September for Gracie to swim in the river. She loves to chase the tennis ball in the water, oblivious to the audience of harbor seals. 

     Saturday there was a whale sighting. The spout would appear first, then the back of the whale gleaming in the sun. Unfortunately they were out beyond the reef in the ocean, so I could not get pictures One more thing off my bucket list

.   Since then the ocean waves have been high, slamming the rocks in glorious displays of cascading curls and streams. The river is calm, some mornings almost a mirror but for the ripples where the harbor seals splash or the sea birds dive.
     Monday I take the Old Gray Goose in for repairs. Wednesday and Thursday nights I am booked at a camp ground in Klamath Falls, Oregon. Every now and then I have to plan ahead so I can request mail delivery. I shall miss this place, and plan to return, but there is so much more to see.      

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Life In Smith River

    Thursday I took The Old Gray Goose to an RV repairman a few miles up the road. The problem with the slide was a loose ground wire, easily fixed. The repairman took measurements for the covers on the storage compartments, and is fairly sure when he straightens something under the unit, the fiberglass will pop out. He ordered a new antenna as well, and will call with an estimate. It will take a little longer than I had hoped, so I’m here at least two weeks. 

    I set up again, relieved that we have space to spread out a bit with the slide-out. Jayleen and I went to the Fred Meyers across the line in Oregon. Fred Meyers is Fry’s in disguise (I even earned gas points on my Fry’s card), and I found everything for some nice meals with ease.
    We were in the frozen food aisle when my phone rang; Brandie, the paralegal for Breyer Law, the attorney handling the claim against the driver who ran over Gracie and me. Did I have a moment to talk to Alexis Breyer? They were able to obtain a second settlement for underinsured motorist coverage! More money to fund my amazing journey.
    I have had a beautiful and calming week. I wake at sunrise without an alarm, exercise with Margaret (groan!) on DVD, shower, eat breakfast and walk Gracie on the beach. There are hundreds of seagulls, egrets, cormorants, and turkey vultures swooping and posing on the rocks. The harbor seals splash and play or lounge on the island a few yards out. Gracie splashes in the frigid water. I read (love my Kindle!), surf the internet, walk Gracie, talk to Jayleen and relax the rest of the day  Daytime highs are in the 60's, and nighttime lows are only a few degrees lower. We haven't needed the furnace. 
     Sunday I walked to the liquor store across the street for Sunday newspapers. One afternoon Jayleen’s friend and my neighbor Karen joined us on a dusty walk down a country lane lined by late-summer wildflowers. Jayleen and I each fix our own dinners (she’s vegetarian) and eat surrounded by her troll doll collection in her neat little home. Last evening we made reservations up the road at The Nautical Inn for crab-stuffed shrimp, the most delectable dish on earth, and watched the sun set over the ocean.
    The blackberries are on the vines in abundance, and I have picked a couple quarts to freeze and eat. Yesterday Jayleen joined us on our berry-picking expedition, and taught Gracie to eat blackberries off the vine! Gracie was sucking up every one she could reach. Good thing they don’t seem to have affected her digestive system.
    Today I am packing up and taking The Old Gray Goose down the road to begin the repairs. Thursday my mail should arrive from the forwarding service. Life has its own peaceful rhythm here, and the effect is healing.        

   

First Destination and Friendship Renewed

     I did not wake up until 6:30 am, late for me. Showered and fed, and Gracie walked, we left the campground at 9:00 am. Gypsy led me around the Santa Rosa traffic nicely, and back onto 101-N, where she announced, “go 361 miles on the 101". 
     Acres and acres of vineyards gave way to mountains that reminded me of western Pennsylvania, rolling hills of green. I pulled into Ukiah for gas. On the way out of the station, I scraped the side of the concrete post at the edge of the gas pump, damaging the side of The Old Gray Goose and two of the storage compartments. Easily, I bet, a thousand dollars in damage. I am heartsick.
     I decided that what is done is done. I was about to see some of the most spectacular countryside in the United States, and I could let it be spoiled by one misguided turn, or I could enjoy the beauty and deal with it later.
    The redwoods are amazing. Describing the size is impossible. Neither pictures nor words adequately capture the majesty and beauty. There are sections of highway where the tops of the trees hundreds of feet up form such a dense canopy it darkens the road. It is truly breathtaking.
     The road winding through the redwoods is a challenging drive, especially in a motorhome. The turns are so convoluted even Gypsy was confused and tried to recalculate several times. At places the redwoods are so close to the road I was sure the mirrors would touch (they didn’t, thank goodness. I don’t need any more drama right now). There are quaint little roadside attractions every few miles. Sasquatch (or is he Bigfoot here?) seems to be a favorite. Pulling the hills was slow—the Old Gray Goose is hauling a lot of weight-- but there were passing areas and traffic was light.
     About the time I was trying to figure why the area was designated a tsunami hazard, we broke out of dense forest, suddenly on the coast with miles of sandy beaches and the clean smell of salt water. There are dozens of turnout points for watching the ocean. I don’t stop. I am close to my first real destination, Smith River, to see my friend Jayleen    
     I lived with Jayleen in a small condo in Mesa when I first came to Arizona in 1995. We talked and laughed and ate Chinese food from cartons. When my family joined me four months later, she purchased a mobile home in Apache Junction and I moved to my home a mile or so away. I failed to maintain the friendship/family balance, and I was sad but not surprised when she moved to be near friends in California. 
     Jayleen has been waiting all day for me when I finally pull in around 4:30 after 323 miles. I have a nice spot across from her neat little camper, two spots over from the bathroom, shower and laundry, and across the parking lot from a spectacular view of the river inlet to the ocean. It is chilly! I change into jeans and grab a jacket, we walk Gracie near the river, and have dinner at the casino a mile up the road. We catch up on years of our lives and journeys, and are soon  laughing and finishing each others’ sentences. Tomorrow I will deal with a slide that won’t slide, a bashed-in panel, a snapped antenna, and a bathroom window that won’t stay up. Tonight is for friendship.       

    

Challenges in The Old Gray Goose

     I have had a couple challenging days. I left Needles in overcast skies and sporadic rain, but at least it was cool. Barstow to Bakersfield is long and boring. It looks a lot like the back way to Casa Grande through Coolidge—lots of groves, green only through irrigation. I couldn’t recognize the trees until I saw a sign that said ‘pistachios.’ Why don’t all the farmers put up identification signs?  Other than that, it’s the same old dry desert and dust. I keep reminding myself that it was once the bottom of the ocean. That makes it more tolerable for a minute or two. I stopped for groceries at a Stater Brothers store in Barstow and found everything I was looking for, then had a sub from a shop next door. Back on the road.
     Bakersfield looks like Phoenix from the Durango Curve, all tired old businesses in peeling metal buildings. There’s even an exit for University of Phoenix.              
     North on I-5 was when boring turned to awful. Traffic started to get heavy and I needed gas. I pulled into a Valero station in Kettleman City. I waited in line for gas for 20 minutes or more while cars cut in line and backed up to the pumps in front of me. Finally I could ease all 34 foot of me to the pump. Suddenly a man was banging on the RV. Apparently he had pulled in the other way and parked so close to me that when I eased forward, I put a three-foot scratch on the side of his pick up!  We exchanged insurance information. I got gas and pulled to the back of the station to calm down only to discover the passenger side mirror was hanging off the side, held only by the wires! Who can I get on a holiday evening to make repairs?
     I pulled out my tool box. I did not have any screws that would work. I went back to the gas station and bought some longer sheet metal screws and started back to the RV. A couple in a pickup pulled up. “You need help?” the driver called. “Yes, I do", I replied. Together we cut some concrete anchors to stuff in the holes and I held the mirror while he used a power screwdriver to put the longer screws in. I offered him $20 to buy dinner, but he said, “No, just pay if forward.”
     Adrenaline pumping, I drove for miles and finally pulled into a rest stop near Los Banos for the night. I walked Gracie and was grateful that I had made a cold chicken casserole (canned chicken, pineapple, green onion, red pepper, napolitos, and bulgur) the day before. Yogurt and my emergency York peppermint patty (I deserved it) for a treat. I slept fitfully, although it was cool and relatively quiet. First thing this morning I called the insurance company and filed a claim, then called the “victim” and gave him the claim number and the adjuster’s name.
     I can’t tell you the exact route after I-5. I set the GPS (I’ve named her Gypsy) and just followed her instructions. I ran into a massive traffic jam around Livermore, and went over a bridge at San Rafael that provided the first glimpse and smell of the Pacific Ocean. I started to calm down. I stopped for gas in Petaluma (the awning looked low, so I pulled at an angle so I could reach the hose to the tank without actually going under the awning), then stopped for lunch at a County Park, parked under the trees so Gracie and I could be outside. I checked the RV park guide and found a campground nearby at the fairgrounds in Santa Rosa. For $22.50 for the night I have water, electricity, shade and most importantly, a shower. So yesterday I travelled 430 miles and today 199, for a total of 976 so far.  
     I hooked up by myself (no, I’m not tackling the awning), but now the slide won’t come out. It might be a blown fuse. Tonight I don’t care. That’s a challenge for another day. I finally named my motorhome. She’s the Old Gray Goose, as in “The old gray goose she ain’t what she used to be.”       

Recharged

     I intended to spend another night in a rest stop. But when we got there, no shade, blazing heat, my body odor and a homeless man camped out in his car made me change my mind. I pulled out the RV Parks and Campgrounds Directory with little hope of finding a place to stay on a holiday weekend.

     “Nothing on the water, but I do have two spots open,” the nice lady at the Needles Marina Park, about an hour away just across the state line in Needles, California, said on the phone. When I got to the park, my luck persisted—there was one spot left on the lagoon. I took it for two nights.
     With help from a new neighbor, I am parked and hooked up. The slide is out and there’s lots of room. I have electricity (and the air conditioner works on electricity, just not on the generator) and water, the shower and laundry are just behind me, and the Colorado River is in front of me.
    Of course there are glitches. I tried to put up the awning, and it stuck halfway. The park handyman rescued me. I discovered why the radio won’t work—the antenna is snapped off. I’ll have to have that fixed somewhere. The pull down tabs on some of the window shades are shredded. I will have to pick up some new ones and stitch them in. 
   Gracie is in heaven. She gets to swim every time we go outside. The RV has an outside sink and spigot so I can wash the sand off. The cats are cooled down. I recharged my laptop, WiFi, Kindle, DVD player, cell phone, portable TV, and me.

 

    

On the Road

      I have a confession to make. I like elevator music. So I was lying on a queen-size bed with Gracie and Dylan listening to the most awesome radio station out of Prescott,102.1 KAHM, pronounced “calm, feeling very calm the first night in my new home.

     It had been a very long day. I got hours behind on Thursday with a problem with the propane and then again Friday with an air conditioning glitch, which is persisting. I didn’t finish cleaning the house until Friday afternoon. So we spent our first night on the road in our motorhome at a rest stop, Sunset Point, only 100 miles north of Phoenix. I was tired, traffic was heavy, and I’m not on a schedule.
     Gracie and I watched the sun set from a fantastic vantage point looking over a beautiful valley. I had a frozen entrée for dinner, fed and walked Gracie, washed up in the rest stop rest room, made a cup of tea, and fell asleep to elevator music. 
    Oatmeal with skim milk and blueberries and hot coffee for breakfast. I’m loving being self-contained. Back on the road at 7 am.,rested and appreciating the light traffic. Rounding the corner leaving the rest stop, the dining table detached from the wall and tumbled across the motorhome! Luckily, it missed both cats, but they were freaked.
     I got off the interstate and took the road through Prescott Valley and then into Prescott, looking for an open RV repair place, with no luck. Finally I parked in the lot of a closed sales and service facility and walked to the only place that was open, an auto repair shop. They hooked me up with A-Z RV 24 Hour Mobile Service. Tim Giese screwed and glued the frame back into the wall in minutes, and when I asked how much I owed him replied, “Ah, whatever. I live just across the street.” I gave him $40, which in retrospect, on a holiday weekend, was not enough.
     Quick stop at WalMart (love open parking lots when I’m trying to swing a 34-foot coach around) for supplies. Onto I-40 at Ash Fork. Gracie has taken over the couch, Baby has established a post under the now-solid table within easy reach of litter box and water, Dylan has commandeered the bed, where he can see the length of the coach in comfort. On the road again. 

One Last Time

     It has been a week of “One Last Time.” One last time to climb Silly Mountain with Gracie, one last trip to the dog park. One last time out to dinner with my dear friend Amy. One last cookout on the back patio in the shade of my grape vines. One last frozen yogurt at The Good Apple. One last time to trim the bougainvillea and water the trumpet vine. So bittersweet.

     Amy threw me a.going away party with a few close friends who have touched my life and, I’m proud to say, I have touched theirs. Normally I detest this sort of thing, but It was a lovely way to say goodbye to some very special people    
     Perhaps I smoked a bit too much weed in the 60’s, but my older son. . .well, let’s just say he marches to a different beat. A way different beat. He and his wife live in a trailer powered by a generator off a dirt road in Snowflake with chickens and cats and a dog named Black Jack. I’m not proud to say I’ve been very critical of his life style in the past.
     I sent an email to daughter-in-law letting her know my plans. She replied that the engine was blown in their car but if I got to their area, they would get a ride to meet up with me. The day before the man who was supposed to take my car regretfully declined. So I rented a car (I can't drive for eight hours without air conditioning) and drove to Snowflake to retrieve Andrew and Jennifer and a generator that needed repair, and transferred the car to them.
     Andrew looks older than his 40 years and I wonder if the strained relationship between us contributed. Well, I can’t undo the past. I know a 93 Buick doesn’t make up for how self-righteous I have been in the past, but part of this journey is about mending relationships and I hope this is a start.