Home is Every Where

My very first wish as a little girl was to 'go somewhere, anywhere.' After high school I began the first step by moving to Fresno and attending 4C's a vocational business school figuring that secretarial jobs could be had throughout the world. With my diploma in hand, my next move was to Washington, D.C. My career choice was sound, but my heart had other ideas and answered 'yes' to the first marriage proposal and returned to Merced, California. Thirty years later married to a true wanderlust, my address changed permanently to Wyoming. At least that's where we have our mail forwarded from to wherever we end up six, seven months of the year.

Bob and I have gone somewhere, anywhere every weekend, every summer during our working lives and since 2000 every other day or week or month finds us on the road. For 25 years we flew our 4seater Bonanza to points found on a map, or an article read in a magazine, or told about by another flying friend. Now, we travel in a 36-foot rv and are at home moving to at least four spots during the snowy months in Wyoming. We maintain our home in Afton, Wyoming, just in case or until the housing market is tilted to the seller again.

From the very beginning of my wandering day wherever I'm at my favorite activity is to scan the local newspaper for jobs, apartments, and articles of what to do in the area. I play 'what if?' Bob thinks I'm crazy, "You don't need a job," he reminds me. That's not the point. In my mind I'm imagining myself with a life in Monterey, Everett, Mobile, Juneau, Milwaukee, San Antonio, Yearington, Silver City, Miles City and the list would fill the page.

I once mentioned to a friend that my problem was that I was happy wherever I found myself. She commented that I must be easy to please. But, I don't agree. Once I begin to explore a place and see myself making a life where I'm staying at the present time, I see possibilities. (must confess to one place I couldn't get a grip, Lancaster, CA) It isn't that I didn't give Merced a try, nothing horrible happened there and I wasn't run out of town and still love to visit to see family. I was just felt more at home out-of-town.

Last July we became members of an Escapee rv park, Park of the Sierra. Escapee is an appropriate name since the members are on the road escaping to all parts of the country and the world. They were all born under the wandering star.
If we ever sell our place in Wyoming, then we have a place to park the rv and don't have to worry about reservations, and in the future when our traveling is more of a hassle than an adventure we have a place to sit and enjoy being part of a community that understands home is where you are at.

Park of the Sierra is organized as a co-op park. All the members take part in volunteering their skills and time to maintain the physical aspects, administrative needs, and the social activities of the park's residents. So, while we are here, there's no sitting on the couch wondering what others are dong. Here, we take part in our own way learning and doing to make it a real community.

I'm happy we now have two places, Afton and Coarsegold to call home, but with many places in between that are potential homes for us to explore. Because, afterall, if we ain't moving we might be missing something over the next hill.

Pismo Day

The number one reason to get up and out while I'm at Pismo Beach is to walk along the sea shore. Today the sea is a sapphire blue, it is calm, and the tides are barely a fringe along the sandy beach. Through the years, I counted them today, twenty-five, I have been walking along Pismo beaches.

The constant roar of waves little or huge crashing on the beach wipes out all the non-important chatter. Now days I walk alone. In the beginning Bob introduced me to taking long walks sometimes fast and efficient, sometimes romantic and slow with the moonlight as our guide. I miss walking with Bob.

Today, I think about how I would like to make friends with those I pass on the beach. We probably have a lot in common. Free time, a fondness for nature and solitude. Most of those whose paths I cross exchange smiles, others look away far away to the horizon or down at their feet. We all walk along the sea's border for our own reasons.

I'm always delighted to see a young jogger, tall,tan, muscular, young, wearing dark glasses, baggy shorts, sometimes long black hair jogs with him. They always smile. The boy from Inpanema . . . I probably remind him of his mother.

Four women, girlfriends for decades sit in comfortable beach chairs. The tailgate of their SUV, their outdoor bar. A huge red kite flies above their camp. One reads an Oprah book club pick. Two wrestle another kite and give up in favor of another gin and tonic. Two are gray and sagging. I am absolutely sure of their wisdom. Another has hair the color of pink champagne. I think she either is lots of fun or twits about too much, one or the other. The fourth has dark hair and is covered from head to toe. Maybe she had voted to spend the afternoon at the mall.
We exchange smiles, too.

Today I don't feel lonely during my walk. I feel alive. In the past, I have wanted to continue my walk to shores of Antarctica. Not today, 45 minutes going and returning, I've had a good day.

On the Road Again

October 25, 2010 Bob and I hooked up the yellow Jeep to the rv and cruised over the hill into Salt Lake City. We chose the right day to leave. The unusally warm autumn days left the night before and a chilly wind threatened snow soon. So, leaving our favorite place on earth, (for Bob only in the summer) wasn't as painful. We rved at the Mountain Shadow RV Park in Draper and arrived at our 8 am appointment at Camping World to check out our jacks. With the 'all go' sign, we were on the road again by noon.

I've taken over half the driving duties. Crossing the Salt Lake basin and Nevada were good wide throughfares for me to get the hang of driving the w i d e vehicle again. I stayed in the right lane and enjoyed the view. The rv is really easy to handle and very comfortable so after a few hours I was good to go, but not in the crowded Reno traffic, yet. Bob took over in Fernley and got us through Sacramento, too. I took over after spending the night at the Stockton Delta KOA - very nice resort on the Delta, and drove to Kettleman City. It was good to practice passing and dealing with merging traffic. Of course, with every hour of practice comes more confidence.

Bob was an excellent right seat passenger. Nary a word of discouragement. Sharing the driving is a good idea, but he has to be a very good driver so that I don't become the passenger from hell that I was wary he woud be. He is thankful to have a partner. It means we will be able to go more if we want to in the future. We both like to be the pilot in command, and have worked through those 'control' issues in the past -- with the main objective to make a smooth landing. So far so good.

Seventy degree weather and clear skies greeted us in Pismo. Ahhhh, that sea air reminds us of why we love it here. We are proud of the places we have found to call 'home.'

Pismo jazz starts Fri morning. Bob is jazzed and ready to have some fun. We will get our tickets this afternoon at the Vet's Hall.
The Good Old RV
When we stopped in Battle Mountain, we noticed the slide topper was mangled and a bit of the material was flapping. We decided not to try to fool with it in the middle of nowwhere - and stayed in a motel to forget the mess. The next night in CA, closer to help, we tried the slide and the topper straightened out. Apparently, it has come loose at one end and needs to be rewound, but is working. Then, when we set up the sewer hose in Pismo the gray water valve wouldn't open. Bob has just given me the all clear that it is open now - one of the joys of rving is that it is suppose to be like home --- indoor plumbing and all, so when the sewer hookups are a headache, it becomes too much like camping and is not all that much fun - been there, done that. But now I'm a happy camper.

I'm really glad Bob is feeling better - with the rv troubleshooting as a priority and listening to some live jazz he is motivated to move. I bought him another folding cane (he left his other one at Sylvia's) so he is ready to step out.

Mission Accomplished

Home on the range at last. We were able to get our slow leak fixed and found our way back to I-80 (after heading south on State Street, which runs the length of Utah) almost to Las Vegas!

Stopped at the post office for our first welcome, no names or numbers needed for Lucy to deliver our box of junk mail. Next, the market, where I met up with 3 folks I knew -- 3 more than I ever ran into in Merced! This morning I went to the hospital for a bloodtest and the receptionist remembered my name.

As we are catching up, the heater is running, thunder is clapping, and cold rain is falling. We are glad to be home for awhile, but I think Bob is taking notes on another trip. I heard him mutter "Nova Scotia."

For those wondering, Bob only came close to being thrown from the train, but his blue shirt was not so lucky.

And, we thought we knew it all . . . .

Of course, Bob and I expected to learn a few tricks to ensure our train ride was as comfortable and enjoyable as posssible. We just did not expect that the learning curve would extend throughout the entire trip. Here are a few tidbits that we found useful and interesting:





1. Always check baggage: Even though our largest suitcase of the two we took weighed a mere 30 lbs. and the other 15 lbs., lugging those two up stairs and into compartments builds muscles. We even checked a small duffel bag and only carried on a small tote, even for night rides. Nothing over 50 lbs. are allowed - no way, no how - we saw people throwing stuff out of their suitcases to reach the under 50 lb. limit.





LESS IS BETTER . . . Take 1/4 of what you think you need. I cut ours in half and we could have been just as styling with half of that.



Unless you are into learning the art of folding clothes. I'd rather learn oragami.



And, now knowing that Bob was perfectly happy wearing his special blue shirt for the entire trip. (I just found a picture from our trip to Florida years ago wearing the same shirt.)





2. Women's Lounge/ Dressing Area: Biggest and best secret. The area is roomy and the toilets stay cleaner. Not all trains have this special area. Ask the conductor or attendant





3. Freight companies own the rails: Since the freight trains rule, Amtrak is obliged to move over and allow the freight trains to pass. So, depending on the freight schedules and delays Amtrak follows their orders.





4. Security is not a concern: There are no screenings. But, on the commuter run from Seattle to Portland, a law enforcement officer and a K-9 labrador walked the aisles. Coincidentally, as they passed our seats, I was reading an article in USA Today about security checks on that particular run.



5. The attendant's job is to attend: The conductor's job is to supervise and collect passenger tickets. If you reserve sleeping rooms, you are privileged to be welcomed on board by your attendant. He or she will ATTEND to all your needs, i.e. dinner reservations, water, coffee, newspaper, preparing the beds, and answering all your questions. They will also 'go get' whatever you want, including meals. The attendants also attend to cleaning toilets, dumping trash, and whatever attending needs to be done.



We did not ask for a demo of what the roomette had to offer, but on our last ride, PJ gave us one. It would have been helpful on night one, but we thought we knew it all . . . and, Charlie was very busy. These attendants tend to run a lot. Those with smiles, goodies, and a 'can do' attitude collect well-earned tips that supplement their 6 days on (that's 24 hours a day) and 8 days off wages.



6. Overnight train trips are not like home: If you want home, stay put, or travel in a recreational vehicle. The train's job is to get from one point to another sometime. Just like the track isn't always smooth, the amenities of train travel are a bit bumpy, too. Maybe that's just like home, too.



Although, we heard throughout our trip that the Canadian Railroad experience - not the expensive tour train - but the one for ordinary folks- was A+. Four star food, cloth tablecloths, candy, fruit, drinks available throughout the train, movies and games for the passengers, etc. The beds were just as narrow and the shower was down the hall for all sleepers.



7. Community Dining was a delight: If given a choice, I always choose to eat by myself or with people I know in a communal setting like a cafeteria. I've learned to change my ways. Seating meals on a train is always community seating. For every meal in the dining car we met other couples, and one single, to share conversation and break bread together.



Since most of train travel is quiet and alone with whoever you boarded with, the chance to be social comes with meals - or hanging out in the bar car. Bob and I found ourselves looking forward to eating time not only because the food was good - and it was, but wondering who we would meet and learn from for the next hour or so.



We didn't meet any grumps. Most were older couples visiting kids, taking an extended holiday, or just loved trains.



For example, during our last dinner on the train from Reno to Salt Lake we met a couple from Ohio. The man's father had worked for the railroad his entire life and John had literally been born on a train. He hated flying, loved train travel and could sleep like a baby while riding the tracks.



Their trip would end in 30 days, they only had a week or so left. Here's what they had done: Road the Canadian Railroad from Toronto, ON, to Vancouver, BC, hopped off and enjoyed an Alaskan cruise through the inland passage. Rented a car in Seattle and drove down the coast and over to Yosemite (they were very impressed). They were on their way to Vail, CO, for a few days and then getting back on the train for home. They had stories, we had stories, and so did everyone we sat across from.

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I asked Bob for some input on what he had learned on this 45 day trek:
"I learned that the railroad tracks need to be smoother."

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I also learned again that Bob is happiest when he is moving on down the road. My one big surprise of the trip was how he was able to keep his mojo on track. He is, too. I have always known that to say no to fun is a mistake and that belief has been reaffirmed one more time on the Train Ride of 2010 with Bobby.

The Last Ride

September 6, 2010, 4:45 p.m. Amtrak pulled out of the Reno Depot. Bob and I held on tight facing each other in our fifth and final roomette. Eleven hours later we heard the whistle blow as we arrived in Salt Lake City. Our attendant, PJ, knocked at our door and, knowing the drill, we were ready to disembark in a less than five minutes.

As I waited for our baggage, I saw a full parking lot - a good sign - no building site in the lot I had parked the Jeep - and with a big sigh of relief, the yellow nose of the Jeep came into sight.

I delivered the baggage to Bob and ran across the street, thinking positive thoughts, 'the engine will turn over, no problem, no flat tires, no dead battery.' My hopes were granted. After reving up the engine I swung out of the lot and across the street in front of the station to pick up Bob. With the help of our gps and no traffic but us and milk trucks on I-15, we were at the Holiday Inn Express in four minutes.

We love Holiday Inn - they welcomed us with an early morning arrival and for the cost of one night's stay we don't have to check out until Wednesday at noon or even 2 p.m.,if we wish.

At noon today, we woke up, even though our last ride on the train was the smoothest of the entire 5,000 miles we logged on Amtrak. Maybe we were too twitterpatted to sleep soundly.

One of the tires was a little low, so we set out to find air - I won't write the rest of the story now, but an hour later we had gone to the Chevron Station - air machine did not work and to Jiffy Lube - who aired us up and recommended Les Schwab for a free tire check - we rode around until we were very lost - finally found our hotel - now have Les Schwab in the gps and will rest some more before going out alone tomorrow to the tire store then hit the 'home' button on gps, even though we know the way.

Maybe we do need the added rest time (and Holiday Inn knew that) or maybe we are out of practice of using our own time wisely - for the last six weeks we have reported for duty according to someone else's schedule.

The Grattans of Carson City

Sylvia met us with open arms at the Reno Depot and we cruised to Carson City to bother Joe for a few days. Bob definitely got the blue ribbon on planning the last week of our trip - being with Cindi, family, and Sylvia made me very happy.

We did our usual - talk, eat, shop - how many times do I need to repeat those 3 words? I chose not to take pictures of us standing in line with our baskets full of bargains to give you the full effect.

We discussed our fixed-income status and the idea of visiting a museum or taking a hike were a few ideas that might keep our accounts balanced - but only if Marshalls or Tuesday Mornings close their doors for good.

Joe is feeling better and requested his favorite, "cheeseburger and fries," Bob got one too, so Joe wouldn't be eating alone, sure, while they watched baseball games on tv.

The Grattan's place has become our way station as we travel between California and Wyoming no matter what our route in between. In October we will be coming this way again - to pick up those bags I couldn't stuff into the suitcases, (I almost left the suitcases, too - but thought maybe we will need them in Salt Lake) and to check in with friends and have the best time ever.