In the words of our soul brother, Phil: "Give me one more night, give me just one more night, Oh one more night...." Ah! What a blast of a trip and I miss it. I miss living in an RV with my family all together in one long space; I miss the pop of the gravel under our tires as we entered a new campground, craning our necks all around to find the playground and the pool; I miss seeing things I've never seen before and probably won't ever see again; and I miss, most of all, the feeling of being united with my man and my girls, all experiencing the same things, all laughing at the same time, all carrying the same memories, all contributing to the greatest Collins family vacation ever.
I'll try not to stray into the deep end of the pool too much, but damn does real life suck. You guys already knew that though because you've been stuck here while the Collins' were out there so now we've joined you again. Are you happy? Huh? Happy now? Yes, I thought so. Well then, let's commence with the memories.
Day 16, June 29th: Winnemucca, NV to Twin Falls, ID
The name "Winnemucca" is the best thing about Nevada and don't you forget it. You need not go there. Seriously, Nevada is brown, Nevada is hot, Nevada gives you plenty of time to think about why the hell you're still in Nevada. Don't go. If you do go, and I don't know why you would unless you don't actually trust my judgment, please rescue one of those scraggled broccoli bushes and plant the poor thing in Idaho instead because Idaho knows how to turn things green.
Since I'm never going back to Nevada, one of you can steal this million dollar idea which is to create a feature length film called "Fields of Green." Simply shoot two hours of Idaho farmland footage: gorgeous manicured green, gigantic sprinklers stretching their legs miles wide spritzing cool, wet relief across grateful grounds, and then take that video back across the border and ask those Nevada people whether they really want to visit that brothel or if they'd, perhaps, like a look-see at something even more titillating. Twenty to one odds they go green.
This leg of the journey is memorable because it is the only time we could not find our campground which purportedly contained a natural hot springs pool with diving boards. We searched through at least thirty to forty minutes of farmland in all directions and then ended up on a road that threatened to take us up a freakin' mountain and since we'd had enough of that action, we u-turned that baby faster than a potato grows in Idaho and settled on a nearby campground featuring a curbside gigantic chair instead. Anyone who has driven through Waldo, FL (on their way to a Gator game!)would have scoffed at the straight-legged puniness of this chair compared to Waldo's goliath rocker, but my girls were well pleased and since I couldn't give them hot springs diving boards, I was grateful for that pathetic attempt at a giant chair.
Day 17, June 30th: Twin Falls, ID to West Yellowstone, Montana
This day started where the previous day ended. No, not with that ridiculous chair; get your mind off that already! I know for sure that more than half of you just Googled "Waldo's Ginormous Rocking Chair" because you have never been to a Gator football game via Waldo and that's just sad. Get off your Google and get to a game! but don't speed through Waldo. Okay, now I'm waiting for you to Google why you shouldn't speed through Waldo. While I'm waiting, I'll put on some hold music. How about a little "Landslide?" Good for you? Good for me too because that is exactly why this day started where the previous day ended.
Besides cooking meat on a propane grill that would actually connect to our RV, my husband Bryan, aka Clark Griswold, aka Charlie Brown, had only one request for this 8,200 mile road trip. That request was that he be able to listen to his MP3 player while driving. Not much to ask you say? Well, you were not in the car for 8,200 miles with three women who are not exactly quiet and who also possess a curse against technology. This gets into the deep end of the pool for Bryan so suffice to say that despite all manner of splitter jacks, headphones purchased at Wal-Marts across America, and wire-y thingmajigs spaghetti-ing up the backseat beneath the girls' legs, at some point in every driving day, with the exception of Idaho, Bryan would slap the steering wheel in frustration and plead, "I just want to hear my music."
Oh, Idaho, yes, Idaho, for some reason you possessed the ability to keep the girls quiet with functioning technology for six straight songs, oh glory be, and those six straight songs were all "Landslide." We heard three in a row the night before, first the Dixie Chicks version, then Stevie Nicks' version, then Stevie Nicks' live version and then we heard them again straight through in the morning when Bryan's MP3 player thoughtfully backtracked to the "L" songs again and let me tell you that I did not get bored singing along with that song all six times. You can imagine Bryan's joy.
Day 18, July 1st: West Yellowstone, Montana
The area near the west entrance to Yellowstone is just plain glorious, especially if you have come from the desolate campground and surrounding town of Yosemite which we had. I very nearly cried with gratitude when I saw the touristy nature of West Yellowstone with its walk to it stores & restaurants, its abundance of hotels & gas stations, its reliable Wi-Fi, and its gradual mountains with sloping hills rather than steep drop offs. The Yellowstone Grizzly RV Park was one of our favorite campgrounds of the trip--it and the surrounding area felt like a warm & fuzzy little town with nice people and easy to navigate, bike-able streets. The only discomfort we felt here were the 36 degree nights and the occasional monstrous Montana mosquito. How those suckers survived the frigid temperatures I do not know, but I do know that they were pissed about it because their bites hurt and itched for a good long while. They have a thing or two to teach Florida's mosquitos...I have no doubt that they could survive our wet heat if they wanted to.
West Yellowstone gave me my first inkling for what the theme for my next blog should be. A woman from Minnesota sat down next to me while our respective girls played on the playground (with a tire swing!) and if this woman had lived in Florida, I knew that she could have been a close friend because although I only spoke to her for a total of ten minutes, we instantly found common ground and had a comfortable conversation about wife, woman, and mother stuff, just as if she was one of my close friends back in FL.
Standing in front of Old Faithful with hundreds of other tourists gave me this same feeling too: unity. Here we all are, staring at a hole in the ground, waiting to lose our breaths together when it erupts, which we did when it did. Can you dig it? I can dig it. There's something about experiencing what America has to offer with other people who are just as excited to be there as you and who have traveled just as far and waited just as long to see these things that are somewhere in the consciousness of every American. Unity, I tell you; it's a powerful thing. Shared experience, shared goals...it's something this country had when I was growing up and I feel like it's something this country lacks today. Sometimes it's there, we all had it for a little while when the USA team was in the World Cup for instance, but often now America is united only after horrific tragedies like 9-11, Sandy Hook, and the Boston marathon bombing and even then it's fleeting.
Too much into the deep end? Okay, let's swim back then and look at the Grand Prismatic in Yellowstone. Google that mother right now...see, what did I tell you? America! She's gorgeous in places you didn't even know about. We spent the rest of this day exploring the geysers and other good stuff in the southern portion of Yellowstone. I especially enjoyed the roadside views of rivers just babbling picturesquely away over and around rocks and fly fisherman, green sloping mountains and lush pine trees in the background. We also learned that if you find yourself in a traffic jam in Yellowstone, you will find yourself with your camera at the ready 15 minutes later because the jam was caused by a bison sighting, sometimes a moose, elk, or deer as well.
Day 19, July 2nd: West Yellowstone, Montana
This day in Yellowstone was not as enjoyable as the first day in Yellowstone, but it had its rewarding moments. We decided to explore the northern portion of the park and it took a long time, hours of driving in fact and Bryan's music seemed rather fond of Will Smith's gangsta period during these hours. Not a good period, Will, just no, not.
The north portion of Yellowstone contains gorgeous waterfalls that are a delight to see, but a pain to get to as there are tens and tens of miles between them, up and down and around roads that are not as pretty as the west entrance and south portion because a river does not run through them, nor does Brad Pitt as far as I could discern. Several of the hot tourist spots were tight with cars so that you had to wait awhile to even find a parking space to see what you had traveled there to see and you best see it for God's sakes, because there was no going back to it, not with how spread out everything was. Yosemite gets an extra few tally marks here because they provided free shuttles to move the tourists along from place to place and Yosemite Valley was also bike-able or hike-able, not so in Yellowstone. You need a good set of wheels there, a full gas tank, and some soundtrack other than gangsta Will.
Besides waterfalls, we also saw a petrified tree and a large gathering of Amish people in the northern part of Yellowstone. I have no idea how they got there because a covered wagon would not handle the miles and miles of driving there and, besides, the women all had sunburned necks beneath the backs of their bonnets, so I suspect that they arrived in Yellowstone using uncovered roller skates. Also, one of the Amish guys had a camera which I thought was a forbidden mechanical device, but what do I know? I'm from Florida. This Floridian thought Amish people just stared and stared at attractions other Americans get to take pictures of, just burning the memories into their eye sockets so that they can later draw the images in paintings for other Amish who didn't craft their own uncovered roller skates.
The highlight of this day was finding snow! Yes, snow! In July! There are not enough exclamation points to convey the delight we felt at finding summer snow up there in the Yellowstone mountains. We played in it barehanded and I ate gobs of it because it was #1 not yellow and #2 July. It was the perfect texture, a flavorless slushie. The girls had snowball fights with us and made snowmen, Riley even attempted a snow angel which is apparently not so comfortable in shorts and a T-shirt, but oh it was wonderful. A memory those Florida girls are never going to forget and a nice reward for a long day.
Day 20, July 3rd: West Yellowstone, Montana to Buffalo, Wyoming
The drive to Wyoming was one of the most pleasant of the trip because we went through Big Sky, Montana which is gorgeous. Rivers, beautiful, calendar-quality rivers led nearly the whole way there and we saw a ton of fly fishermen as well as groups of people in wet suits going white-water rafting. Montana is definitely a place I recommend that you see, especially the Bozeman downtown area which was like small town America only faced in bricks and brand-new. It was so clean and just downright quaint there and I hope I get back to visit that area again in particular because it looked like the perfect walkable city. Because all of the people there looked young and hip as they jaunted to their brick cafes and bookstores, I surmised that a college might be nearby and my friend, Google, confirmed that Montana State University is indeed located in Bozeman. Go Bozeman Bobcats!
Wyoming is a decently green state and I will always remember it because it snowed cotton at our campground. I was watching the girls play on yet another campground playground, this time one with a horse tire swing, and a sudden breeze came through and with it came clumps of fuzzy white stuff all over the place. I have no idea where it came from--seemingly the clouds made it. Grass clotted with cotton is quite an odd sight for this Floridian to see.
Bryan probably remembers Wyoming because it is the location where a friendly fellow motorist informed us that the bike rack on the bumper of the RV was falling off. A different friendly fellow motorist informed us (somewhere back in Idaho) that 5ft of our sewer tube was dragging along the highway after escaping from the inside of this very same bumper. Although Bryan is a generally pleasant person, I presume that the next friendly fellow motorist to inform us of something involving the RV's bumper, might find a piece of it where the sun don't shine.
From this state on, we had to store all 4 of our bikes inside the RV and hey, if you haven't heard about this great new workout, it's called lifting 4 bikes up three steps into a skinny doorway, through a living room, a kitchen, and then through another skinny doorway into a bedroom, drive about 7-8 hours, and then remove 4 bikes from a bedroom through a skinny doorway, through a kitchen, a living room, another skinny doorway and then down three steps. Repeat for 15 more days. Great times.
Day 21, July 4th: Buffalo, Wyoming to Custer, South Dakota
We spent America's birthday at the Crazy Horse Memorial which is a seriously impressive mountain carving that will eventually include an entire Indian warrior on a horse and be the world's largest sculpture. After almost 70 years of work, only Crazy Horse's face is complete and to give you an idea of the size of it, Mt. Rushmore in its entirety will fit in just the head of Crazy Horse which is 22 stories tall.
I was most taken by the fact that the sculptor for this project spent most of his life performing the hardest possible physical labor daily and never even got to see the fruits of his labor. Korczak Ziolkowski worked on the monument from 1947 until his death in 1982 and the face wasn't even distinguishable in the mountain until the late 90s. I cannot imagine dedicating my life to something that I would never be able to fully appreciate--it was just astounding.
Also impressive is the fact that seven of the sculptor's ten children have also dedicated their lives to their father's project--talk about unity!--and this monument is completely non-profit, relying on visitor and donor dollars. They have twice refused a $10 million dollar contribution from the government. Hopefully we'll come back here as old people and be able to see the completed sculpture but, at the pace it's going, I'm not sure that our grandchildren will even see it completed. Quite an anomaly in American culture and one to keep an eye on. They have special "blast" dates throughout the year where you can experience the dynamite carvings and they also have a nice patio seating area for a laser light show on the mountain detailing the history of Crazy Horse and the project. Good stuff.
Day 22, July 5th: Rapid City, South Dakota
We spent this entire day exploring the sights my friend Google recommended for kids, starting with Story Book Island which is a free outdoor park for kids to play in with pretty much every story character imaginable incorporated into a play structure. One of their favorites was Peter's Pumpkin which had curved interior walls to run up and a great echo effect. Many of the structures have been there since the 50s and I even saw slides and structures like the ones I played in as a kid, so it was a great memory trip for me. Old times were good times.
We next headed to Dinosaur Park which is another free location featuring several humongous dinosaurs to climb on, way up in the mountains. It was a hike and a half to get up there to see them from just the parking lot below, but it was worth it as we could allegedly see 100 miles from that vantage point. The dinosaurs have been there since the 1930s, so it was pretty cool to experience these attractions that generations of Americans have experienced. It was also nice that they were free. South Dakotans seem to strongly favor public fundage for public fun which is most obviously working because everything we saw in South Dakota was very well maintained and trash free.
Another free attraction in Rapid City, SD is the "City of Presidents" in the downtown area. On nearly every street corner, a sculpture of one of our past presents is available with a little distinguishing touch unique to that president; Carter has a peanut on his base while Kennedy is holding a toy airplane in one hand and his son in the other. Definitely a nice touch although the downtown area was rather lifeless for early evening on a Saturday.
We spent our Saturday evening at one of the highlights for all of us on the trip as a whole: The Grand Magic Show which is located right on the grounds of Bedrock City Theme Park & Camping Resort where we stayed (and where everything is made to look like you're in The Flintstones cartoon. "Who's Dino?" our girls said--oy!) This show was Vegas quality but intended for families, and I greatly appreciated the Neil Diamond sparkles on the lead magician, Duane Laflin's, outfits. We absolutely could not figure out almost all of the tricks they performed--truly mind boggling and unexpectedly good. Definitely support them if you're ever in South Dakota.
Day 23, July 6th: Custer, SD
Bryan and I woke up to the "Magic of Magic Show" put on by both Riley and Jordyn Collins with the tricks and magic kits we'd bought them the night before. They loved putting on a show for us and I was amazed at how quickly they picked up both the tricks and the showmanship. Riley has one trick involving three separate cups and magically appearing balls that Bryan and I cannot figure out and she refuses to tell us or let us see inside her cups! Rascal! Jordyn's magic coloring book goes from being a regular coloring book, to a colored coloring book, to a book full of blank white pages. Mind blowing! Definitely catch the Collins girls' "Magic of Magic Show" next time you see that crazy Collins RV roll by.
Because we'd done so much the day before in the hot afternoon sun, we decided to veg out in the RV for awhile on this day and head to Mt. Rushmore in the early evening. Well, this neat freak can veg in a 23 days old hairy and crumby RV for only so long, so I set about cleaning it while Bryan watched TV/napped and the girls practiced their magic tricks. It takes me approximately 7-8 hours to thoroughly clean our nearly 3000 sq. ft. house at home; it took me just over an hour to thoroughly clean the RV. Yes, please!
Mt. Rushmore, although tinier than expected upon first seeing it, especially after having already experienced the enormity of Crazy Horse, is still immensely impressive because it's Mt. Rushmore, an image I have seen countless times since I was a kid and now here it was, right before my very eyes. Unfortunately, my first glimpse of it came from the parking garage right below it. I much preferred the first glimpse of the Grand Canyon which comes only after you have climbed up and over 400 ft of stairs, on the South Rim at least, so it was a little disappointing to pull into a parking spot and see the monument from your parked vehicle, but I was glad to finally behold it nonetheless.
We spent a few hours walking along the trail in front of Mt. Rushmore, exploring the sculptor's studio, and reading every word I possibly could in the museum portion of the memorial. I was just in a mountain carving mood I guess and found it endlessly fascinating to read about the challenges and dedication it takes to complete these structures. My favorite part of the day came at the end when a park ranger talked about the history of Mt. Rushmore and explained why each president was chosen for it. We then watched a video which was interesting, but a bit lengthy, and at the end of the evening, after they had lit the sculptures, they asked for any active duty military, past or present, to come and help lower the flag and it was this moment that hammered in the theme for this blog for me. It's always touching to see members of our American military honored, but this was especially powerful because it was occurring at the base of a national monument, in the dark quiet of evening and they lowered the flag and folded it with such a soldier's solemnness even though they were in plainclothes just like the rest of us.
My absolute favorite part came when the ranger asked each and every individual up there to introduce themselves and their branch of the military. Since there were at least one hundred people on stage, I had expected him to ask them to raise their hand if they were in the Navy, Army, Air Force, Marines, or Coast Guard, but the fact that each person was acknowledged and recognized for their individual service just blew me away. It was beyond special and that is when I felt that sense of American unity and overwhelming pride in our country because all of the individuals up there, united, for us, our country, our freedom, our perseverance.
I thought back over all that America has accomplished in unity, what the sculptors had created at both Mt. Rushmore and Crazy Horse in unity, all the national parks we'd seen on this trip made possible by the unity of conservationists and politicians, the wonderful children Bryan and I have created with our unity. Well, I was having a real moment I tell you. Powerful emotions right there in front of George, Tom, Teddy, and Abe and it basically just breaks down to do you, as an American, prefer sitting on your back porch eating a hamburger alone or having your friends and family over all united for a BBQ? Which is better? stronger? It's unity, I tell you, unity and ain't it grand that we live in the United States? I had never thought so deeply about the power of being united before and it stirred in me the hope that America will get better at what we've always been good at but somehow lost, being united.
Fittingly, toward the end of our trip, Bryan's MP3 player reached the W's and went on a "we" kick for a good long while: "We are the Champions," "We are the World," "We Built This City," "We Didn't Start the Fire," "We Got the Beat," "We Got the Funk." Oh yeah we do.
Day 24, July 7th: Hot Springs, SD
Well, after my evening of epiphany, it was time to experience more unity at the Mammoth Site in Hot Springs, SD, which is an active paleontological site where scientists, working together, united! dammit, have uncovered fossils of 61 woolly mammoths, the majority of which are the Colombian kind which means big. Fossils have always fascinated me and this was no exception because these poor beasts fell into a sinkhole and couldn't get out--united in death my unfortunate woolly friends--and their poses, the ways and places they were found told a story, much like having the faces of former presidents or an Indian warrior carved into a mountain tells a story for thousands of years to come. Pretty heady stuff.
After traveling back in time for awhile, we went to the nearby Evan's Plunge attraction which is a mostly indoor hot springs fed water park with some of the fastest water slides I have ever experienced. Jordyn and Bryan, the Collins family thrill seekers, went down the slides again and again while Riley and I took one trip down each and were satisfied to just swim. This place has also been around for generations so everything in South Dakota felt united by time--different people enjoying the same thing with more to experience it in the years ahead. Pretty cool.
Day 25, July 8th: Custer, SD to Sioux Falls, SD
This journey along I-90 is one of the best for finding some great roadside attractions all within one day's trip. We first stopped at Wall Drug, which is advertised for miles, to get a doughnut which is neither Dunkin' nor Krispy, but is oh so tasty! Wall Drug is basically several blocks of united! stores with a few restaurants and they have offered free ice water to attract motorists since the 1930s. There's a fun outdoor area for kids and a pretty terrifying T-Rex that gets crazy every 12 minutes or so. A fine stop for everyone in your party at any time of day.
At exit 170 off of I-90, there is both the Dinosaur Skeleton Sculpture (a human skeleton walking a big dinosaur skeleton on a leash) and 1880 Town which is a town that looks exactly like it did in the 1880s. Not easy attractions to get to in an RV, but fine to see as just drive bys too.
Finally in Mitchell, SD, there is the Corn Palace which, again, was formed through the united! vision of two men who wanted to promote the agriculture of their town and attract tourists and it is still doing so today. The exterior of the building is redecorated every year with nearly 300,000 ears of corn in 12 different colors. August is the best time to see the completed palace and you can also catch a basketball game or concert inside. Corn crazy Jordyn could not wait to see this place and she was impressed; they even have corn painted on the street signs and plastered into the bases of the lamp posts. There is a rather large variety of corn shaped products and eats available at the gift shop.
Day 26, July 9th: Sioux Falls, SD to Ames, Iowa
The Jellystone in Sioux Falls was hands down the most fun campground we experienced on our entire trip. They had impeccably clean grounds, a nice heated pool, and best of all, a free giant inflated jumping pillow, which we all got on and enjoyed. Even your heart jumps.
This leg of the trip was exciting because it not only led me to my brother, Justin, and my sister-in-law, Krysta, whom I've known since I was 13, but it also unexpectedly carried us through another state we hadn't counted on seeing: Minnesota! We traveled a good long ways through Minnesota until we dropped down into Iowa and all we saw was green for miles and miles. Another great state to film for that little Nevada project I mentioned awhile back.
Day 27, July 10th: Ames, Iowa
Well this was a tough day and it's odd that it fell on the 10th because we started the trip with 10 hearts, as you recall, and we lost one of them on this day. Scout, the geriatric diabetic cat, made it all the way to Iowa before rather conveniently falling into a diabetic coma. Convenient only because my sister in law is also known as Dr. Deitz and is a veterinarian at Iowa State University. (Woot! I highly recommend traveling to Iowa for all of your veterinary needs because Dr. Deitz is da bomb.)
I won't go too deep here other than to say that Scout's death was another amazing moment of unity because not only was my sister-in-law the one facilitating the process, but my brother, husband, and children were all present for her passing with me in a calm and soothing room and we were able to laugh all together about other memories before it happened and then cry together once it was over and that unity was special and I'll always remember that we were all there together for an old girl who lived to 16, dealt with diabetes for 6 years, and made it all the way from Florida to California and nearly back again.
It was definitely odd continuing the trip without Scout because her hidey hole again became the community litter box and her true sister, Jem, cried for awhile when Scout didn't join them in the car as we left Iowa, and all the animals seemed to search the RV for a bit, sensing that part of their unit was missing, but it didn't hit me until we got back home and there was no Scout waiting here for me in all of her usual spots. The first night asleep again in my own bed was tense because I knew that Scout would not be snuggling up against me, purring me to sleep as she almost always did, but then, just before I fell asleep, her sister Jem curled in next to me and that was a nice moment of unity for both of us.
Day 28, July 11th: Ames, Iowa
Iowa is awesome chiefly because my brother and sister-in-law live there. They are interesting people with an interesting house, interesting jobs, interesting friends, and interesting pets. Joy and laughter always abounds when you're with Justin and Krysta; you're guaranteed to have a good time, and you'll usually learn something too. We learned that the best place for snacks at their house is not in the kitchen cupboards, but in the raspberry bushes or apple trees that grow in their backyard. We also learned that a shampoo exists that is specifically for dreadlocks and that a cat can have a deep-seated desire to become obese. Better info. than Google I tell ya.
We spent a lot of time talking and laughing together and dear Lord we almost died watching a you tube video animated from a story some guy's drunk wife told called "Two Chips": I'm na-cho friend. You-tube that right now so that we can taco 'bout it next time I see you.
We visited a delicious restaurant there called Hickory Park which basically involves ingesting 3 meals at 1 sitting because you must have the fried cheese balls for an appetizer and one of their hundreds of ice cream combos for dessert. Our girls fed goats (for hours) at the house of Justin and Krysta's friends and we learned about self-sustaining farms where chickens and pigs do the plowing and fertilizing. Iowa is world's apart from Florida, much more green, and it was neat to experience as fresh and new what they take as everyday normal.
We also biked from their house to Iowa State University, just a few hills away, and it was nice to experience that college atmosphere again; it reminded me of the University of Florida where we all spent quite a few fun years together becoming adults in that magic time period when you're an adult without any real responsibilities yet.
Re-united with my only sibling and his spouse I've known since before I could even drive--the best!
Day 29, July 12th: Ames, Iowa to Wentzville, Missouri
We went from seeing part of my family to seeing almost all of Bryan's in one day: his grandparents, father, step-mom, brother, sister-in-law, aunts, uncles, cousins, second cousins, and even our future nephew, whom we cannot wait to meet in 2015!
I grew up with a big extended family in South Florida, which I loved, and I've known Bryan's family since I was 20, babies I knew then are now almost men, so it was a great atmosphere to be in once again. A family united has energy and even though we talked at length with some of his relatives, we couldn't fit them all in but everyone looked great and we couldn't believe how many babies were around. Our girls used to be the only kids at these reunions and now they're the big kids. It's just awesome.
Day 30, July 13th: St. Louis, Missouri
We spent the day with many members of Bryan's family at the St. Louis Zoo which is big, free, and hot! We learned a new way to water plants from second cousin Gabe and we also learned that Grandpa can corner a scooter up a hill like a mad man (and also that the medical personnel of the zoo are quite personable while being professional.)
We spent the evening with about 30 members of Bryan's other side of the family; his mom's sister, Aunt Pat, has produced quite a restaurant full of great people in her lifetime. We ate at The Old Spaghetti Factory and caught up with everyone as best we could. We usually spend a week or two in St. Louis with Bryan's family just to see them all, so it was difficult to have to squeeze that time frame down, but we were able to hang out at Aunt Pat's house afterwards and share stories just like old times. The Kratos are a fantastic family, so if you ever meet a Krato, and you probably will because there's a lot of them, say hi from Jess and Bryan.
Day 31, July 14th: St. Louis, Missouri
One of the only attractions I have not ever seen in St. Louis in my many years of visiting there since I was 20, is The Magic House which is a fantastic place for children under 12. There are three floors and at least three houses wide of rooms and activities to explore and we got to experience nearly all of them even though our girls are precise players--they must digest all aspects of an area before moving on to the next one. I was most impressed that the café there served healthy food, I wish more kid-centered places did that, and I also liked that almost any job you can think of was represented at The Magic House from construction worker to Broadway star for your child to "try on."
In the afternoon, we visited Bryan's 96 year old grandmother at her community home and she was quite concerned that we had no place to sit and eat with her even though we assured her that she was our reason for being there, not the egg salad sandwiches. Bryan and the girls each gave her a hug and it was just a special moment that made her visibly happy. Your homework is to find a 96 year old to hug immediately.
We spent the evening at Bryan's other grandparents' house eating Bryan's favorite pizza, Imo's, which he craves and talks about every three months or so. If you'd like to know what it tastes like, melt a mixture of three cheeses on a pepperoni placed on a Ritz cracker. I was raised on South Florida's version of New York style pizza so the Missouri brand is endurable, but I will never understand his craving for it.
We closed out the evening, and our visit, celebrating Bryan's brother's upcoming birthday with Lulu's ice cream, one of Bryan's dad's favorite hang outs. Their "concretes," like DQ's Blizzards, are delectable and there's a safe area for kids to run around and play outdoor games like sidewalk chalk and hula hoops.
I know how I felt leaving my brother and sister-in-law behind in Iowa, so I can only imagine what Bryan felt leaving probably close to sixty (and growing) relatives behind in Missouri. Unity is a hard thing to leave behind.
Day 32, July 15th: Johnson's Shut-Ins in Middle Brook, MO
I should start by saying that I tried to talk Bryan out of coming here at least 42 times. It's a place he went to with his brother and family when he was perhaps newly teenaged and I can see the attraction for that aged boy, climbing rocks, sliding through natural water slides, adventuring in water, tally-ho! He brought me to this place about 15 to 16 years ago and although it was beautiful, I was appalled at the lack of safety. Please remember that I am a worst-case scenario envisioner. This place is in the middle of nowhere, the rocks are big, the rocks are slippery, some of the depths are deep, at least one person falls while you're there, and I have a pretty healthy fear of seeing someone's bone protrude through their skin after a fall or of seeing someone trapped or caught by underwater rocks with a rising tide, much less someone I bore through my own body and love more than my own flesh. So, this was not going to be a trip highlight for me.
The Johnson's Shut-Ins area has dramatically changed since I last visited. There is now a medical facility nearby, a welcome center staffed with people who can get help fairly quickly if needed, and a great campground with a paved 2.5 mile bike path leading to the Shut-Ins. We arrived, got into our bathing suits, grabbed our towels, and headed for the river on our bikes, full of vim and vigor.
I tried to convince the girls to go into the "baby" portion of the shut-ins with me, but they were having none of it and instead followed their adventurous father straight into the scariest part of the shut-ins. I took a few pictures of them and then ventured in myself, taking baby steps and checking hand holds all around when they were available. When I got to the rest of my family, I spent most of my time warning the girls to wait for their father and to not do anything until their father got there and to hold their father's hand because this leg of the trip is about unity, dammit, but then I realized that I was being a complete drag because their faces were full of fun. I decided to shut my mouth and just let them go, with their father, and I found a big old elephant of a rock that was smooth and warm and rather nice to sit on in the middle of a river.
After several hours of climbing, I hoped my family was tired and ready for the 2.5 mile bike ride back to the RV but they were not and, since I had at that point seen one teenage girl fall, scraping her cheek, and seen another twentyish man tumble straight onto his fanny, I decided it was enough of a day for me and that I would bike back to the RV by myself, shower and watch a chick flick and that's just what I did. Almost two hours later, my family returned and besides being exhausted, they all look okay except for Jordyn who indeed fell on the slippery rocks as I feared someone in my family would, and cut her chin in several places plus lower lip. I asked if she had fun despite the injury and she said yes. I asked her if she wanted to come back to the shut-ins someday and she said no. Ah, ha! Perhaps I am finally shut of the shut-ins. They are gorgeous but what an accident waiting to happen.
Day 33: Middle Brook, MO to Tupelo, Mississippi
This leg of the drive was a long one and I think we were all ready to just call it quits and go home. We'd seen what we came to see and we'd visited the people we wanted to visit and now it was just a matter of finding Florida again. This was a decent campground but it oddly did not take credit even though it was a Good Sam campground, so Bryan had to unhook our whole rig and find an ATM to pay for our night's stay.
Somewhere along the line, the girls watched Jaws for the first time and then we found Jaws 2 in an Iowa Wal-Mart. On this night we watched Jaws 4, the Revenge where the shark travels from Amity to the Bahamas just so it can specifically terrorize the Brody family. Great $hit I tell you, fabulous film-making. These cozy movie nights with our family unit were some of the best evenings besides the times when we played games together. Popcorn, cocoa, and unity, can't be beat.
Day 34: Tupelo, Mississippi to Stone Mountain, GA
An anomaly is Stone Mountain, Georgia which is a round mountain that rises up from the ground about a mile or so, literally looking like a big stone. It's weird seeing it next to the hustle and bustle of Atlanta with no other mountains around and after seeing the "real" mountains in western and northern USA, this one sure looked funny. The campground there is great as is the laser light show on the side of the mountain during the evenings. The show is full of Georgia pride and some pretty amazing effects which make the carving of Robert E. Lee, Jefferson Davis, and Stonewall Jackson look like it's being chisled, dynamited, moved around, and covered in ice during the "Frozen" number. I was again struck by united-ness because much of the show promoted Georgia in a way that I haven't ever seen in Florida. All of the sports teams, professional and not, got a mention and every musician who's come from Atlanta was featured with a song segment and an animated scene. It's a good show overall and worth the trip. I'd like to come back at Christmas for their snow tube experience and to see the laser show set to Christmas music.
Day 35: Stone Mountain, GA to Orange Park, FL
Instead of climbing the 1.2 miles to the top of the mountain in the morning, a fairly easy hike I had done before as a kid, we decided to get our a$$e$ home. Walking into our big, empty, quiet house was unsettling for the first hour or so, but then the kids went upstairs to play, I started some laundry, and Bryan turned on the TV.
And so, here we are, united again with all of you, back in the routine of reality...but wasn't it a grand adventure? Thank you for being there with us and here with us, united.
Until next time,
#crazycollinsrvforever!
The Itinerary
The Itinerary
Wednesday, July 23, 2014
Thursday, July 10, 2014
Day 21-27
Day 21 (Buffalo to Custer, SD)
This was the longest leg of our trip.
My neck hurts.
The Flintstone campground is neat.
The Crazy Horse monument is going to be huge!
I don't think I'll ever be able to see the completed Crazy Horse.
Day 22 (South Dakota)
Storybook island is free admission.
The dinosaur park has been there forever (since the 1930s)
Walking the city of presidents taking pictures with a bunch of the statues was educational and fun.
Day 23 (South Dakota)
Sometimes, it is nice to just chill and do nothing special for a few hours.
Mount Rushmore is awesome especially at the light up ceremony.
They recognize every single service member by name during the flag lowering ceremony.
Day 24 (South Dakota)
A real live archeological dig site for mammoth bones is neat-o, but I don't know how those people stand such slow work.
It takes 46 weeks to process 6 weeks of digging.
If you ever want to open a community pool and save on chlorine and cleaning expenses, just buy a hot spring, put a building around it, setup some water slides, and call it Evan's Plunge.
Day 25 (Custer to Sioux Falls, SD)
The donuts at Wall Drug store are pretty good.
The Corn Palace is a very interesting place, craft store by day, multi-purpose arena by night.
My neck still hurts.
Day 26 (Sioux Falls to Des Moines, IA)
The cows only hang out in the northwest corner off their ranch.
The horses never hang out with the cows.
Day 27 (Hanging out with Sencer-Deitzs)
Our diabetic cat Scout was put to sleep today after she went into a diabetic coma. It was sad, but she was ready at the ripe old age of 16 and being diabetic for the last 6.
Jordyn likes wearing the cone of shame.
Things Forgotten
Jessica can read a book while I am listening to music, the girls are watching a movie without headphones, and we are driving on a bumpy road.
Friday, July 4, 2014
Day 20
Day 20 (Yellowstone to Buffalo, WY)
They call Montana big sky country.
I can see why, it is very open, spread out, and probably the most beautiful state as a whole to drive through. You can always see the sky and it is always big!
I saw a cattle of buffalo.
There are cotton trees at our camp.
We really are living the movie RV/Vacation.
My rear bumper of the trailer is beginning to fall off. Apparently their welding is only rated for 100 pounds of force, the bikes are probably 200-300 pounds of force when you add the constant bounce off the road.
The bikes and rack will now ride in the trailer.
There is not much room for bikes in the trailer.
Are any of you a welder?
Friends is always on tv and it is always funny!
Wednesday, July 2, 2014
Day 15-19
Day 15 (Folsom to Winnemucca, NV)
I passed my first vehical, they were going slower than me!
You can tell when you reenter Nevada.
Winnemucca isn't as dusty as the song makes it sound.
Day 16 (Winnemucca to Twin Falls, ID)
I passed another few vehicles, holy cow, we're trucking now!
I was honked at again for letting my sewer hose drag on the highway, apparently that is not an ok thing to do out here.
Lowe's does not carry my grill attachment.
My truck's taillight almost fell out, why can't thing just stay on my rig? ?
Home Depot also does not contain my grill attachment.
Why can't my grill just fall of my rig?
Bono is right, cuz sometimes you can't find the campground you are looking for.
Day 17 (Twin Falls to Yellowstone)
We made it on 1 tank of gas!
Yellowstone is in a very slim part of Montana too.
There is an Imax theater out here in the middle of nowhere!
Day 18 (Yellowstone)
Old Faithful was 14 minutes late.
It was worth the wait.
It is amazing all the colors in geyser pools.
We saw a natural bridge, this was really cool!
What is a natural bridge? It is when a rock falls into place forming an arched bridge between 2 high points.
It probably wasn't that hard to imagine.We saw an elk, moose, deer, and a few chipmunks.
Day 19 (Yellowstone)
Yellowstone has lots of cool waterfalls!
This place is huge!
Riley hates selfie pictures.
Jessica and I love selfies.
We saw about 5 Bysen just hangin out near the road's edge.
We took many pictures!
Next stop, somewhere in Wyoming.
Sunday, June 29, 2014
Comfort Zones by Jessica Renee Collins
It's good ole Jess, alive and well, coming at you again from Winnemucca, Nevada this time, noteworthy for being mentioned in Johnny Cash's song "I've Been Everywhere," which we actually heard upon exiting Highway 80 to Winnemucca. Magic, I tell you, pure magic. Also magic was the girl in what might loosely (very loosely) be called a Winnemucca bikini standing in the parking lot of a Winnemucca brothel alongside our Winnemucca exit smoking a Winnemucca ciggy. Hot. Winnemucca hot.
Speaking of heat, dry heat is a myth and I give you permission to land your knuckles right on the mouth of anyone who tells you that dry heat is better than humid heat--best to keep that lie locked tight inside that liar's mouth, believe me. People don't carry 12oz water bottles around in this part of America; they carry a ONE GALLON JUG of water on their person at all times. People who tell you that dry heat is better than humid heat have a motive and that motive is to motivate you to get your a$$ to Nevada asap but, luckily, you know me and I am telling you the truth when I say that Nevada is not for you. It's not for anyone or anything other than casinos, dirty brown mountains, and low lying scrubby things attempting to be bushes. If you absolutely must visit Nevada in your lifetime (or in your deadtime), visit Lake Mead which is on the way from the Grand Canyon to the Hoover Dam. Lake Mead was drop dead gorgeous and that is literally what may happen to you if you visit it because it's going to be at least 103 degrees out when you see it so bring water dammit.
This leg of the journey, while filled with absolutely breathtaking moments, got all of us out of our comfort zones, most especially me. I am a person who prizes neatness, efficiency, order and I like to anticipate (some say worry about) any problems that may arise before they arise. This strategy helps me keep my life all tucked up and tidy. When a life mess does occur, more often than not I have anticipated its coming and my broom and dust pan are at the ready to set things to rights again without too much disturbance and on I go again. Surprises are a no no; being able to mostly control what happens to me is a yes yes. This past week taught me that while I've done a decent job of anticipating and preparing for what may happen on the road for 35 straight days in an RV with 1 husband, 2 kids, 4 cats, and 2 dogs, I cannot predict everything, especially in Nevada.
Day 8, June 21st: Holbrook, AZ to Grand Canyon, AZ
If you know Bryan then you know that he is a meat eater and if you know me, then you know that I am NOT. Anticipating meat related problems is not in my wheelhouse of "worries" and that is unfortunate for Bryan because he discovered, on day 2 of this trip, that the grill this RV came with did not come with the all important connecting device that attaches the physical grill to the provided grill propane line on the RV. We have made many an unscheduled exit to various stores along our journey with Bryan hoping upon hope that they would carry this coupler device and every time he comes out of the store downtrodden, a meatless Charlie Brown to report the news to carrot munching me that they did not have what he needed.
So, it was with great delight that Bryan found a Camping World in Flagstaff, AZ nearby to our Grand Canyon destination that carried exactly what he needed, or so he thought. We picked up this $35 tube of wonders and pulled into our impeccably clean Grand Canyon Railway RV Park with just enough daylight left for him to attach the tube joining the grill, finally, to the RV's propane source and roast up some tasty animal tissues. Bryan having little to no meat for a solid week is significantly out of his comfort zone. Bryan having little to no luck MacGuyvering things to work is also out of his comfort zone and, sadly, that was the case here because the $35 tube of wonders was utterly useless and would not fit either zone of connection. Furthermore, had we traveled another 100 miles, Bryan would have completely lost his useless grill somewhere in Arizona because it, apparently, was not designed to travel whilst attached to the RV's bumper.
By the time we got to the Grand Canyon, Bryan's brand new grill was clinging to the RV with just barely one weld on its support bar. Bryan's grill, still unused, now travels in our bathroom when we're on the road and is unceremoniously heaved under the RV in a naughty spot to think about its actions (or lack thereof) whenever we camp. He has been able to supplement himself with fried eggs, bacon, weenies, and microwaved Salisbury steaks, and he even managed to wait an agonizing hour or two to charcoal grill a burger up in the mountains of Yosemite, so if you're gnawing on some propaned animal products while reading this, please think of Bryan and send him some juicy vibes.
Day 9, June 22nd: Grand Canyon, AZ
We paid a good chunk of change to ride Coach class in the train that takes tourists on a two hour ride up to the South Rim of the Grand Canyon. Do not pay for anything other than the basic Pullman class or the slightly upgraded Coach class for this trip because everyone experiences the same thing and those who paid double for the domed cars (with a view!) must have been extremely upset because the only view(!), for the entire trip, was the Arizona landscape consisting of brown grass, dirt, broccoli-sized bushes, and an occasional stumpy tree. The train catches one corner of a glimpse of the Grand Canyon the entire time so do not be bamboozled into thinking that your train rides alongside the actual Grand Canyon and thank goodness it doesn't because that first glimpse of the Grand Canyon is a doozy and you'll want to be standing on your feet in front of it, ready to damn near salute its natural beauty, by God.
The train ride is made shorter by a new entertainer every half hour or so, a Navajo singer/guitar player and a fiddle player were quite good at both their craft and their supply of corny jokes. Where do you send a dog with no tail? To Wal-Mart, the largest re-tailer in town, of course! What do you call a deer that has no eyes? No idear. What do you call the same deer with no legs? Still no idear. What do you call a fish with no eye? Fsh. Har de har, guffaw, guffaw and, oh my, has two hours passed already? No, but here comes your own personal train car assistant to explain to you what you're about to experience and also to encourage you, rather aggressively, to drink some damn water.
Our assistant was really very nice but we either all had a problem hearing her or she had an undetectable speech impediment because what we thought she said was that we could hike down to the bottom of the canyon in about 6 to 8 minutes. Not so, my friends. So, not so.
Released from the train, we climbed about 400 feet of staircase to see the Grand Canyon for the first time, all of us. Bryan and I at 37 and the girls at 10 & 8, lucky kids. I had to wait nearly four times as long to see what they saw! We all had the same reaction though and it was instant: stunning. That word most accurately describes your first sighting of the Grand Canyon so don't let me catch you using it for just any old thing like a diamond crusted Oscar dress or a molded over baloney sandwich because stunning is reserved solely for Mother Nature's grandest feat. The Grand Canyon literally looks like a picture, the most perfect picture ever, a calendar picture, a screensaver picture, and your brain cannot comprehend that what you are seeing is really what you are seeing and your brain, my brain, any brain, cannot swallow the vastness of it and express it to you through your synapses that it is actually real, reality, there, right in front of you, for a good solid minute or two and that is something that I have never experienced before and probably will never feel again. It's groovy, Baby, and you should do it (because everyone is.)
Bryan and I stumbled along the path in absolute awe, unable to take our eyes off the Grand Canyon or to stop taking pictures of it. Luckily, the girls were paying attention to more than just that vastness and they discovered a quiet little pathway where just against the wall, nearly out of sight, two deer lay quietly observing the canyon themselves and it just added to the unreality because the five hundred other tourists milling about there missed that moment that was right there in front of them. It was grand.
We found our way to the path leading down into the canyon and walked along it quite perkily. It wasn't until we had gone about 15 minutes (not the 6 to 8 minutes our train car assistant had said) that I realized that we were not progressing very far down into the canyon and, in fact, there were an awful lot of able bodied people huffing and puffing their way back up the canyon, moaning and just looking completely exhausted. We went aways further, me all the time pretty terrified that the girls might fall off the path and into the nothingness below even though the path was safely wide, and then, besides the rumble in my belly, I noticed even more fit looking people pass us going back up just sucking for dear life on tubes connected to backpacks full of water, out of breath and looking like they did not belong inside their tanned, toned bodies. We went still further because we wanted to get to the bottom of that canyon, dammit, but when we came to another clearing and saw little ants of people trekking further and further out of sight below us, we resigned ourselves to the fact that we were not going to make it to the bottom of the canyon and it's a damn good thing we came to that decision because the first three steps I took back up the canyon were perhaps the most brutal steps I've ever taken in my life and I had about 3,000 more to go as did my little legged girls and my Mr. Cozy Office Chair 40 Hours-a-Week husband, Bryan. Walking up something that big, at that height, in that heat, is like nothing you've ever done before so drink some water, dammit!
(We later learned that it was 6 to 8 miles to the bottom of the canyon, not minutes. Egads.)
We made it out with lots of "pausing for picture taking" AKA allowing our hearts and entire circulatory systems to catch their freakin' breaths and take in some water dammit and double-timed it to the El Tovar hotel where we inhaled, perhaps even through our nostrils, enough calories to sustain a Triple-Crown winning horse mid-race, including a chocolate taco dessert that my mother was still raving about after her trip to the Grand Canyon several years ago. It was rave-worthy indeed. We walked along another sightseeing path after lunch and reluctantly got back onto the train at the appointed time, but we all wished we had been able to stay longer, especially to see the sunset. Booking a hotel or camping spot that is actually on the Grand Canyon is a good idea, so try it now, while you still have ten years because it may take that long to find an opening.
I must now speak for Storm and Trooper, our dogs, who informed me, through various foul and crude gestures, that they did not like the pebbled/rocky grounds of either New Mexico or Arizona and that I had better get them back into their grassy comfort zones asap. Too bad for them that our next state, Nevada, offered the exact same landscape only in gray. Overjoyed they were not.
Speaking of overjoyed they were not, that is exactly what Scout (the geriatric diabetic cat) was that night when she released her entire bladder onto our bed, right between Bryan and I, at about 3am. Perhaps we looked like we needed more water dammit or perhaps the rapidly changing time zones had screwed with her insulin dosages or perhaps her kidneys suddenly realized that they were 16 years old or perhaps she was ruining our comfort zone because we had ruined her comfort zone by bringing her on this trip, but, whatever the cause, the campground laundry machine was the answer and I fixed that life mess up with a few quarters and an apology to Bryan.
Day 10, June 23rd: Grand Canyon, AZ to Las Vegas, Nevada
As previously mentioned, the only thing you need to know about Las Vegas is that it is unbearably hot. So much so, that the only thing we did for nearly three hours after arriving there was to lie in our RV soaking up cold a/c through pores we didn't even know we had. We had visited the Hoover Dam on the way to Vegas and that trip, while both beautiful and interesting, is sort of like throwing oneself into a Crock Pot that is plugged into a desert.
While I was lying prone in my recently laundered bed, Scout decided to purr herself on up to me and then do a bit of a dribble, dribble right onto my bed again that I had luckily anticipated that I should cover with beach towels and wee wee pads because nothing says romance like wee wee pads. The damage to the bed was nil but the damage to Scout was irrevocable because, be forewarned all ye, you get to pee on my bed only once in life. I'll forgive you. Once. You do it again and you're cut off because I own all 3 Godfather movies and that's how we Italians do.
Scout narrowly escaped a trip to the vet because I could not in good conscious allow her to be put to sleep in that awful Las Vegas heat, so she instead earned a solitary confinement storage cubby with her very own litter box where she has remained ever since rather contentedly. Perhaps that was her aim all along. Well played, geriatric diabetic Scout, well played.
Las Vegas was a disappointment to me because I had envisioned a street filled with those huge lighted bulbs in every color. While our RV park at the Circus Circus fulfilled my expectations, the rest of Vegas was too trashy glitzy for my taste. I wanted mid-century modern glitzy I guess. It was okay to walk around seeing everything, and I made sure that we saw everything because I knew that I had no desire to come back to Vegas ever again, but it was all really just a let down except for the Bellagio fountain which was truly fantastic, especially during our third go around watching it when they played Michael Jackson's "Billie Jean." The thunderous rush of all that water is something to behold and I'm glad I beheld.
Day 11, June 24th: Las Vegas, Nevada to Yosemite, California
Well this is the day that efficient, ordered, tidy Jessica completely lost it. We got up and immediately set about leaving the heat of Vegas which is pointless because the heat is Vegas, at all hours, and I happened to notice a strange ticking sound coming from our truck. Tic-tic-tic-tic, subtle but clear enough to me. I mentioned it to Bryan and he couldn't hear it, so I figured that maybe the truck was just a little overworked from all of our daily travels so off we went. Little did I know that we were going to spend the next twelve hours traversing the blazing heat of Nevada, passing two (just two!) gas stations along the way on roads populated with no one and nothing, just mountains staring down at us, daring us to break down right there, 94 miles between civilizations. I also didn't know that we would not have functioning cell phones for 3 whole days, nor did I know that up ahead loomed the Tioga Pass, a death-defying road into Yosemite with few guard rails located a merry 9500 feet straight up. Just one of those factors removes me pretty handily away from my comfort zone, but you multiply them all together, one after the other, after the other, and I panic in an increasingly frenzied manner until it is no longer calm, fore-thinking Jessica sitting there, but split second decision Jessica who should not be trusted.
As we drove through Nevada, a picture of the state does appear in the dictionary under "desolate," the tic-tic-tic noise on our truck got more pronounced, loud enough for Bryan to hear finally. It didn't matter that he could hear it because we were literally in the middle of nowhere and the landscape had looked so similar for about 250 miles that we might as well have just been sitting there in the same place for all those hours rather than moving along and, suddenly, we weren't moving along. The truck's speed fell to 40mph and when I asked Bryan if he was doing that, he looked confused and said no. I know from previous experience that when Bryan doesn't know the answer to something mechanical, I am already in deep $hit and past the point of being able to anticipate what might happen next other than doom. The truck kept getting slower and slower and finally Bryan decided, brilliantly, that we must be driving against a strong headwind. I looked at the broccoli bushes, no help there because they weren't even tall enough to quiver behind a tooting cow, so I opened my window and stuck my hand out; the force of the wind immediately shot my hand nearly into the back seat and I felt better because answers always make you feel better.
We were eighteen miles away from the next town at that point, so I told Bryan to try to keep us going for at least another two miles because it would only take me 4 hours to walk for help if we broke down then. He then reminded me that we had bicycles and once again that made me feel better because I could bike for help in an hour or so, while my entire family shriveled to ash on the side of the road in the Nevada heat.
When we made it to the second of the two gas stations, the wind had died down and we felt renewed vigor because Yosemite was only about an hour or so away and surely we could make it. Besides, the tic-tic-tic just tic-tic-tic-ed and didn't seem to want to do anything more and there was the rather large problem of being out in the hot boonies with not even a mirage resembling an auto repair shop so we went for it. Idiots.
The first section of road was a wonder and a delight to Bryan and the children because it contained five straight miles of "hills." These hills are mountains to a Floridian, straight up, straight down with the added bonus of not being able to see over them so you have no idea if some drunk Yosemitian is heading straight at you from the other side for a nice and quick head on collision that you don't see coming until your head is located in the trunk of the Yosemitian's car. Up and down, giggles, laughter, up and down, tee hee ha ha, look at mom trying not to vomit, ho ho oh, Mom, bracing herself for an impact at every crest for five freakin' miles. Adventurous I am not, not in the middle of the desert with no way to call for help and no one to even come for help in a tic-tic-ing truck hauling 8,000 lbs. No.
We left the roller coaster road behind and traveled along okay for awhile until we came, hooray, to the signs for Yosemite. Nearly there. We paid to enter the park and followed along behind the other cars and I noticed a sign out of the corner of my eye that read, "Difficult for Trailers." I turned to Bryan and asked him what that meant and he shrugged, replying, "Well, there is nothing we can do about it now" and he was right because, coming from the area that we did, there is only one way through Yosemite and it is called Tioga Pass. It might as well be called "Take Your Freakin' Chances." We climbed, climbed, curved, climbed, curved, curved, climbed, at one point Bryan had his foot on the gas pedal to the floor and our truck was going up, up, up at 20 mph. Drop offs to the left, drop offs to the right, experienced drivers ahead and behind, guard rails nowhere and there we are, a family of Florida flat landers driving the most difficult road ever, in the most difficult manner possible, with a tic-tic-tic-ing truck with no breakdown lanes in sight. I tried to busy myself taking pictures of the gorgeous (not terrifying) views that we were surrounded by but all the time I was wondering if we would slide backward down 9500 ft to death, be sideswiped by a stranger off the side of the road and down 9500 ft to our deaths, lose the trailer off a curve and be pulled down 9500 ft...well, you get the picture and it was not pretty.
This went on and on and on until finally we reached the end of Tioga Pass and by that time it was dark, nearing 9pm and we still had another 30 minutes to go to reach our campsite. I thought that once we exited Yosemite, we would find civilization and flat land. I was wrong. Continued nothingness, continued mountains, continued curves, this time with bonus signs reading 8% grade. Tic-tic-tic, it was no longer the sound of the truck, but the sound of my mental abilities. I continuously looked at our GPS, at the miles to go, at the minutes to go, and I swear that it was not changing. We must have had 20 miles to go for a good 2 hours and I started counting to 60 and then looking at the GPS to see if a mile had ticked off yet. When it hadn't, I counted to 360 and looked again. Aha, 3 miles had ticked off in that time so I counted to 3000 and looked again. Still 8 freakin' miles to go so I just kept counting and counting and willing us not to fly off the side of a mountain in the dark and had Bryan looked over at me right then, I am quite sure that I looked very much like a drooling zombie because I know that my mouth was hanging open and that there was nothing going on in my head other than counting and counting again. Rational thought, gone; want to get there safely now, its replacement.
I nearly cried when the GPS announced that we had arrived at our destination and we went bumbling along a completely black road and I'm looking at all these RVs to the right of us and Bryan just keeps bumbling along going straight and I completely lost it because he had driven right past the campground, right past safety and sanity and now we were stuck in Podunk land with no place to turn around and dirt driveways every few feet. Instead of stopping and consulting our GPS (which would have told me that we could have continued on that road and eventually looped around back to where we belonged) I immediately commanded Bryan to get us the hell back to the campground NOW by pulling forward into the nearest driveway and backing us up. Well, he tried. The left side tires of our truck fell off a mini cliff while the trailer threatened to back into a tree and then fall off its own mini-cliff and by that point Riley is screaming and wanting out of the vehicle.
After spinning the truck tires in the air for a few more seconds, Bryan pulled the truck forward onto land again and I got out into the blackness to help him even though he could not see me back there in the least. Mind you, as I'm out there in the Yosemite wilderness, the pamphlets they had given us at the Yosemite fee booth are ringing in my mind because, besides identifying the sites we could see, they also had numerous warnings about mountain lions and bears nestled amongst other death warnings like hidden waterfalls, hiking exhaustion, falling rocks, and hypothermia. Bears can smell cars full of food over 3 miles away and we had quite a smorgasbord going on in the truck alone not to mention the RV. Bears also enjoy roaming in the dark and they very much like people who are alone and there I was, alone, in the dark. My other choice was a truck, or an RV, both of which were soon sure to fall off a cliff. Great times.
Bryan magically got that tic-ing truck and the RV set on the right path again after perhaps a 21-point turn and the screams of Riley subsided. We pulled into the RV park at around 10pm and a man on a golf cart led us to our sight in the darkness. Lo and behold, our spot was a nice pitch-black area with a steep drop off to the rear and a steep drop off to the side. Oh, Joy! And, just about that time, as Bryan was trying to figure out how to wriggle us in there, our worn out, been driving twelve hours in the friggin' mountains and headwinds truck starts slipping and sliding in the gravel down yet another "hill." I politely asked the golf cart man if he, perhaps, had another site that would not threaten our lives for the umpteenth time that evening and he immediately took off in his golf cart for flatter grounds, correctly sensing my sliver of remaining sanity.
Day 12, June 25th: Yosemite, California
This day didn't start out much better for me because I was dreading the meandering and steep drive back to Yosemite and then the terrifying drive within Yosemite itself. It also didn't help to learn that the area we wanted to see in Yosemite, Wawona/Mariposa Grove, was 1.5 hours from the entrance to Yosemite and our campground was .5 hours away from that and oh, if you'd kindly recall, our truck was tic-tic-tic-ing! Bryan agreed to take the truck to a mechanic in nearby Groveland even though he was eager to see Yosemite, perhaps also sensing my sliver of sanity. Groveland is tiny, teensy-tiny, and the one mechanic we found who was open was already busy enough for the entire day even though it was only the morning, but he looked at the truck, heard the tic-ing, added some oil, and told us that Ford's engines shift all the oil to the back when going up inclines so that was probably what had happened. He told us to find the Ford dealership 45 minutes away in Oakdale when we were heading out and to just baby it for our time in Yosemite. I immediately wanted to drive right then to the Ford dealership because the tic-tic-tic-ing and the threat of breaking down in a mountainous, cell tower-free, bear-filled region was making me batty, but Bryan convinced me that all would be well, that it just needed an oil change, and that we should just enjoy our time in Yosemite and go to the Ford on our way out.
Yosemite is overwhelming, at first, to navigate, but once you've stared at the maps long enough and meandered around, it is quite easy, except that you should, under no circumstances, stare at the map while your husband is driving around and around and back and forth and over and up and down and through, and no guardrails there, and straight down there, and oy! I have never experienced car sickness before but the Yosemite roads got me this first day and I had to clamp my hands on both sides of my head to keep my brains in. We eventually got to Mariposa Grove, where the giant Sequoias are, and oh my gosh are they amazing. Trees, up, up, up and thick, thick, thick all throughout the forest, silent and sturdy and thrilling to see. We paid for a tram tour and thank goodness we did because we were able to see all of them and hear their history and stories. Truly a wonder to see something that has been there nearly 1800 years and will still be there another 1,000 years more. My favorite was the Faithful Couple--two sequoias that had grown so long and so close together for so many years that they became one whole tree. Majestic.
Day 13, June 26th: Yosemite, California
This time, I looked forward to going to Yosemite. Bryan had a handle on the curvy, mountainous roads and was, in fact, driving on them like James Bond, Bryan James Bond; I knew how to navigate the entire park without looking at the map and the truck was going to live to tic another day, so Bryan packed our bikes onto the truck and we headed for Yosemite Valley, only about an hour away this time. There are paved, traffic-free bike paths all over Yosemite Valley and it was easy for the girls to keep up with us on their bikes because there were a lot of downhill breathers which they loved coasting down. We went first to Mirror Lake, an absolutely enthralling bit of lake that is precisely a mirror, perfectly reflecting Glacier Point mountain and all the scenery surrounding it, even the tiniest of leaves. Truly mesmerizing. We did a bit of hiking and rock climbing from there; Bryan and the girls made "rock snowmen" in an area where there were already hundreds of snowmen precariously balanced all over the place and, even though it was man-made, it was quirky enough to grab your attention for awhile.
The girls enjoyed pushing my limits by straying from marked paths to crawl along rocks near (as I had been warned in my Yosemite pamphlets) swift-moving, cold water or climbing up huge boulders that may or may not have housed mountain lions and bears eager for a sweet treat walking alone.
We finished exploring that area after a couple hours and the girls had enough energy remaining to bike to the Upper and Lower Yosemite Falls, beautiful! Water sounds like the Bellagio only much more peaceful. We also biked to a swinging bridge over a large swimming lake located next to a meadow bordered on three sides by mountains. You could not take a bad picture anywhere in Yosemite Valley and it was a great family day spent in nature. Definitely either bring bikes or plan on renting them if you go. The other tourists walking around (with their gallon jugs of water) didn't see a third of what we did because everything is very spread out.
Day 14, June 27th: Yosemite, California to Folsom, California
I was mighty pleased to leave the Yosemite area and that terrifying Tioga Pass because I anticipated traveling down a mountain for just a bit to flat ground. Wrong again. Leaving Yosemite is just about as terrifying as arriving in Yosemite except that the curves are bigger and there are more of them. Down and around and down and around the mountains you go and Bryan deserves a sainthood for handling all of that and me at the same time. It took us three hours to reach Folsom where Bryan's college roommate, Jeff, lives with his wife, Lisa, and their adorable girls Sydney & Caitlyn.
We utilized the Folsom Ford dealership straight away (we also had squeaking brakes at the point--can I get an amen?!) but were told that we had to wait three days for a specialist so we zipped over to a Goodyear service center instead. The diagnosis for the tic-ing truck ended up being a build up of carbon in the engine and there is not much we can do about that except to stop driving so much in the freakin' mountains. Right-o. They gave us an oil change and instructed us to pick up some fuel injector and to buy the highest grade of gasoline for awhile at Chevron which includes Techron. (The timing couldn't be better--buy the most expensive gas in one of the most expensively gassed states, California? Right-o! Kill me now.) The brakes were also a result of mountain driving and there wasn't much we could do about that except to stop driving so much in the freakin' mountains. Right-o, 10-4, I got you, Babe.
Jeff and Lisa made a home-cooked meal for us that included tri-tips, Bryan was in meat heaven! and Riley really enjoyed them too. That girl looks like me but eats like him--traitor! Our girls were especially thankful to be playing with girls, in a two-story house full of toys, just like theirs back home in their comfort zone and the adults talked and caught up from the years between sightings and it was just good times and nice to feel normal again. Folsom is also a beautiful, family-oriented town with tons of bike trails as well as a road called "Riley St." Perfection!
Day 15th, June 28th: Folsom, California to Winnemucca, Nevada
The astute reader, and Johnny Cash fan, will note that we went from Folsom, of Folsom Prison fame, directly to Winnemucca of "I've Been Everywhere" Man fame. Winnemucca is fun to say but that is about all I can tell you about it because we have been cozied up in the RV since arriving at the campground a few hours ago. Bryan is asleep on the couch in front of the TV, which is on, the girls are in their room playing happily together, and I'm writing this at the dinette table while all the animals snooze comfortably. It seems that we have unconsciously returned to our normal comfort zones. Woot!
I'm not sure what lies ahead for us, but I know that it will be memorable and that we will face it together. It better not include mountains.
Speaking of heat, dry heat is a myth and I give you permission to land your knuckles right on the mouth of anyone who tells you that dry heat is better than humid heat--best to keep that lie locked tight inside that liar's mouth, believe me. People don't carry 12oz water bottles around in this part of America; they carry a ONE GALLON JUG of water on their person at all times. People who tell you that dry heat is better than humid heat have a motive and that motive is to motivate you to get your a$$ to Nevada asap but, luckily, you know me and I am telling you the truth when I say that Nevada is not for you. It's not for anyone or anything other than casinos, dirty brown mountains, and low lying scrubby things attempting to be bushes. If you absolutely must visit Nevada in your lifetime (or in your deadtime), visit Lake Mead which is on the way from the Grand Canyon to the Hoover Dam. Lake Mead was drop dead gorgeous and that is literally what may happen to you if you visit it because it's going to be at least 103 degrees out when you see it so bring water dammit.
This leg of the journey, while filled with absolutely breathtaking moments, got all of us out of our comfort zones, most especially me. I am a person who prizes neatness, efficiency, order and I like to anticipate (some say worry about) any problems that may arise before they arise. This strategy helps me keep my life all tucked up and tidy. When a life mess does occur, more often than not I have anticipated its coming and my broom and dust pan are at the ready to set things to rights again without too much disturbance and on I go again. Surprises are a no no; being able to mostly control what happens to me is a yes yes. This past week taught me that while I've done a decent job of anticipating and preparing for what may happen on the road for 35 straight days in an RV with 1 husband, 2 kids, 4 cats, and 2 dogs, I cannot predict everything, especially in Nevada.
Day 8, June 21st: Holbrook, AZ to Grand Canyon, AZ
If you know Bryan then you know that he is a meat eater and if you know me, then you know that I am NOT. Anticipating meat related problems is not in my wheelhouse of "worries" and that is unfortunate for Bryan because he discovered, on day 2 of this trip, that the grill this RV came with did not come with the all important connecting device that attaches the physical grill to the provided grill propane line on the RV. We have made many an unscheduled exit to various stores along our journey with Bryan hoping upon hope that they would carry this coupler device and every time he comes out of the store downtrodden, a meatless Charlie Brown to report the news to carrot munching me that they did not have what he needed.
So, it was with great delight that Bryan found a Camping World in Flagstaff, AZ nearby to our Grand Canyon destination that carried exactly what he needed, or so he thought. We picked up this $35 tube of wonders and pulled into our impeccably clean Grand Canyon Railway RV Park with just enough daylight left for him to attach the tube joining the grill, finally, to the RV's propane source and roast up some tasty animal tissues. Bryan having little to no meat for a solid week is significantly out of his comfort zone. Bryan having little to no luck MacGuyvering things to work is also out of his comfort zone and, sadly, that was the case here because the $35 tube of wonders was utterly useless and would not fit either zone of connection. Furthermore, had we traveled another 100 miles, Bryan would have completely lost his useless grill somewhere in Arizona because it, apparently, was not designed to travel whilst attached to the RV's bumper.
By the time we got to the Grand Canyon, Bryan's brand new grill was clinging to the RV with just barely one weld on its support bar. Bryan's grill, still unused, now travels in our bathroom when we're on the road and is unceremoniously heaved under the RV in a naughty spot to think about its actions (or lack thereof) whenever we camp. He has been able to supplement himself with fried eggs, bacon, weenies, and microwaved Salisbury steaks, and he even managed to wait an agonizing hour or two to charcoal grill a burger up in the mountains of Yosemite, so if you're gnawing on some propaned animal products while reading this, please think of Bryan and send him some juicy vibes.
Day 9, June 22nd: Grand Canyon, AZ
We paid a good chunk of change to ride Coach class in the train that takes tourists on a two hour ride up to the South Rim of the Grand Canyon. Do not pay for anything other than the basic Pullman class or the slightly upgraded Coach class for this trip because everyone experiences the same thing and those who paid double for the domed cars (with a view!) must have been extremely upset because the only view(!), for the entire trip, was the Arizona landscape consisting of brown grass, dirt, broccoli-sized bushes, and an occasional stumpy tree. The train catches one corner of a glimpse of the Grand Canyon the entire time so do not be bamboozled into thinking that your train rides alongside the actual Grand Canyon and thank goodness it doesn't because that first glimpse of the Grand Canyon is a doozy and you'll want to be standing on your feet in front of it, ready to damn near salute its natural beauty, by God.
The train ride is made shorter by a new entertainer every half hour or so, a Navajo singer/guitar player and a fiddle player were quite good at both their craft and their supply of corny jokes. Where do you send a dog with no tail? To Wal-Mart, the largest re-tailer in town, of course! What do you call a deer that has no eyes? No idear. What do you call the same deer with no legs? Still no idear. What do you call a fish with no eye? Fsh. Har de har, guffaw, guffaw and, oh my, has two hours passed already? No, but here comes your own personal train car assistant to explain to you what you're about to experience and also to encourage you, rather aggressively, to drink some damn water.
Our assistant was really very nice but we either all had a problem hearing her or she had an undetectable speech impediment because what we thought she said was that we could hike down to the bottom of the canyon in about 6 to 8 minutes. Not so, my friends. So, not so.
Released from the train, we climbed about 400 feet of staircase to see the Grand Canyon for the first time, all of us. Bryan and I at 37 and the girls at 10 & 8, lucky kids. I had to wait nearly four times as long to see what they saw! We all had the same reaction though and it was instant: stunning. That word most accurately describes your first sighting of the Grand Canyon so don't let me catch you using it for just any old thing like a diamond crusted Oscar dress or a molded over baloney sandwich because stunning is reserved solely for Mother Nature's grandest feat. The Grand Canyon literally looks like a picture, the most perfect picture ever, a calendar picture, a screensaver picture, and your brain cannot comprehend that what you are seeing is really what you are seeing and your brain, my brain, any brain, cannot swallow the vastness of it and express it to you through your synapses that it is actually real, reality, there, right in front of you, for a good solid minute or two and that is something that I have never experienced before and probably will never feel again. It's groovy, Baby, and you should do it (because everyone is.)
Bryan and I stumbled along the path in absolute awe, unable to take our eyes off the Grand Canyon or to stop taking pictures of it. Luckily, the girls were paying attention to more than just that vastness and they discovered a quiet little pathway where just against the wall, nearly out of sight, two deer lay quietly observing the canyon themselves and it just added to the unreality because the five hundred other tourists milling about there missed that moment that was right there in front of them. It was grand.
We found our way to the path leading down into the canyon and walked along it quite perkily. It wasn't until we had gone about 15 minutes (not the 6 to 8 minutes our train car assistant had said) that I realized that we were not progressing very far down into the canyon and, in fact, there were an awful lot of able bodied people huffing and puffing their way back up the canyon, moaning and just looking completely exhausted. We went aways further, me all the time pretty terrified that the girls might fall off the path and into the nothingness below even though the path was safely wide, and then, besides the rumble in my belly, I noticed even more fit looking people pass us going back up just sucking for dear life on tubes connected to backpacks full of water, out of breath and looking like they did not belong inside their tanned, toned bodies. We went still further because we wanted to get to the bottom of that canyon, dammit, but when we came to another clearing and saw little ants of people trekking further and further out of sight below us, we resigned ourselves to the fact that we were not going to make it to the bottom of the canyon and it's a damn good thing we came to that decision because the first three steps I took back up the canyon were perhaps the most brutal steps I've ever taken in my life and I had about 3,000 more to go as did my little legged girls and my Mr. Cozy Office Chair 40 Hours-a-Week husband, Bryan. Walking up something that big, at that height, in that heat, is like nothing you've ever done before so drink some water, dammit!
(We later learned that it was 6 to 8 miles to the bottom of the canyon, not minutes. Egads.)
We made it out with lots of "pausing for picture taking" AKA allowing our hearts and entire circulatory systems to catch their freakin' breaths and take in some water dammit and double-timed it to the El Tovar hotel where we inhaled, perhaps even through our nostrils, enough calories to sustain a Triple-Crown winning horse mid-race, including a chocolate taco dessert that my mother was still raving about after her trip to the Grand Canyon several years ago. It was rave-worthy indeed. We walked along another sightseeing path after lunch and reluctantly got back onto the train at the appointed time, but we all wished we had been able to stay longer, especially to see the sunset. Booking a hotel or camping spot that is actually on the Grand Canyon is a good idea, so try it now, while you still have ten years because it may take that long to find an opening.
I must now speak for Storm and Trooper, our dogs, who informed me, through various foul and crude gestures, that they did not like the pebbled/rocky grounds of either New Mexico or Arizona and that I had better get them back into their grassy comfort zones asap. Too bad for them that our next state, Nevada, offered the exact same landscape only in gray. Overjoyed they were not.
Speaking of overjoyed they were not, that is exactly what Scout (the geriatric diabetic cat) was that night when she released her entire bladder onto our bed, right between Bryan and I, at about 3am. Perhaps we looked like we needed more water dammit or perhaps the rapidly changing time zones had screwed with her insulin dosages or perhaps her kidneys suddenly realized that they were 16 years old or perhaps she was ruining our comfort zone because we had ruined her comfort zone by bringing her on this trip, but, whatever the cause, the campground laundry machine was the answer and I fixed that life mess up with a few quarters and an apology to Bryan.
Day 10, June 23rd: Grand Canyon, AZ to Las Vegas, Nevada
As previously mentioned, the only thing you need to know about Las Vegas is that it is unbearably hot. So much so, that the only thing we did for nearly three hours after arriving there was to lie in our RV soaking up cold a/c through pores we didn't even know we had. We had visited the Hoover Dam on the way to Vegas and that trip, while both beautiful and interesting, is sort of like throwing oneself into a Crock Pot that is plugged into a desert.
While I was lying prone in my recently laundered bed, Scout decided to purr herself on up to me and then do a bit of a dribble, dribble right onto my bed again that I had luckily anticipated that I should cover with beach towels and wee wee pads because nothing says romance like wee wee pads. The damage to the bed was nil but the damage to Scout was irrevocable because, be forewarned all ye, you get to pee on my bed only once in life. I'll forgive you. Once. You do it again and you're cut off because I own all 3 Godfather movies and that's how we Italians do.
Scout narrowly escaped a trip to the vet because I could not in good conscious allow her to be put to sleep in that awful Las Vegas heat, so she instead earned a solitary confinement storage cubby with her very own litter box where she has remained ever since rather contentedly. Perhaps that was her aim all along. Well played, geriatric diabetic Scout, well played.
Las Vegas was a disappointment to me because I had envisioned a street filled with those huge lighted bulbs in every color. While our RV park at the Circus Circus fulfilled my expectations, the rest of Vegas was too trashy glitzy for my taste. I wanted mid-century modern glitzy I guess. It was okay to walk around seeing everything, and I made sure that we saw everything because I knew that I had no desire to come back to Vegas ever again, but it was all really just a let down except for the Bellagio fountain which was truly fantastic, especially during our third go around watching it when they played Michael Jackson's "Billie Jean." The thunderous rush of all that water is something to behold and I'm glad I beheld.
Day 11, June 24th: Las Vegas, Nevada to Yosemite, California
Well this is the day that efficient, ordered, tidy Jessica completely lost it. We got up and immediately set about leaving the heat of Vegas which is pointless because the heat is Vegas, at all hours, and I happened to notice a strange ticking sound coming from our truck. Tic-tic-tic-tic, subtle but clear enough to me. I mentioned it to Bryan and he couldn't hear it, so I figured that maybe the truck was just a little overworked from all of our daily travels so off we went. Little did I know that we were going to spend the next twelve hours traversing the blazing heat of Nevada, passing two (just two!) gas stations along the way on roads populated with no one and nothing, just mountains staring down at us, daring us to break down right there, 94 miles between civilizations. I also didn't know that we would not have functioning cell phones for 3 whole days, nor did I know that up ahead loomed the Tioga Pass, a death-defying road into Yosemite with few guard rails located a merry 9500 feet straight up. Just one of those factors removes me pretty handily away from my comfort zone, but you multiply them all together, one after the other, after the other, and I panic in an increasingly frenzied manner until it is no longer calm, fore-thinking Jessica sitting there, but split second decision Jessica who should not be trusted.
As we drove through Nevada, a picture of the state does appear in the dictionary under "desolate," the tic-tic-tic noise on our truck got more pronounced, loud enough for Bryan to hear finally. It didn't matter that he could hear it because we were literally in the middle of nowhere and the landscape had looked so similar for about 250 miles that we might as well have just been sitting there in the same place for all those hours rather than moving along and, suddenly, we weren't moving along. The truck's speed fell to 40mph and when I asked Bryan if he was doing that, he looked confused and said no. I know from previous experience that when Bryan doesn't know the answer to something mechanical, I am already in deep $hit and past the point of being able to anticipate what might happen next other than doom. The truck kept getting slower and slower and finally Bryan decided, brilliantly, that we must be driving against a strong headwind. I looked at the broccoli bushes, no help there because they weren't even tall enough to quiver behind a tooting cow, so I opened my window and stuck my hand out; the force of the wind immediately shot my hand nearly into the back seat and I felt better because answers always make you feel better.
We were eighteen miles away from the next town at that point, so I told Bryan to try to keep us going for at least another two miles because it would only take me 4 hours to walk for help if we broke down then. He then reminded me that we had bicycles and once again that made me feel better because I could bike for help in an hour or so, while my entire family shriveled to ash on the side of the road in the Nevada heat.
When we made it to the second of the two gas stations, the wind had died down and we felt renewed vigor because Yosemite was only about an hour or so away and surely we could make it. Besides, the tic-tic-tic just tic-tic-tic-ed and didn't seem to want to do anything more and there was the rather large problem of being out in the hot boonies with not even a mirage resembling an auto repair shop so we went for it. Idiots.
The first section of road was a wonder and a delight to Bryan and the children because it contained five straight miles of "hills." These hills are mountains to a Floridian, straight up, straight down with the added bonus of not being able to see over them so you have no idea if some drunk Yosemitian is heading straight at you from the other side for a nice and quick head on collision that you don't see coming until your head is located in the trunk of the Yosemitian's car. Up and down, giggles, laughter, up and down, tee hee ha ha, look at mom trying not to vomit, ho ho oh, Mom, bracing herself for an impact at every crest for five freakin' miles. Adventurous I am not, not in the middle of the desert with no way to call for help and no one to even come for help in a tic-tic-ing truck hauling 8,000 lbs. No.
We left the roller coaster road behind and traveled along okay for awhile until we came, hooray, to the signs for Yosemite. Nearly there. We paid to enter the park and followed along behind the other cars and I noticed a sign out of the corner of my eye that read, "Difficult for Trailers." I turned to Bryan and asked him what that meant and he shrugged, replying, "Well, there is nothing we can do about it now" and he was right because, coming from the area that we did, there is only one way through Yosemite and it is called Tioga Pass. It might as well be called "Take Your Freakin' Chances." We climbed, climbed, curved, climbed, curved, curved, climbed, at one point Bryan had his foot on the gas pedal to the floor and our truck was going up, up, up at 20 mph. Drop offs to the left, drop offs to the right, experienced drivers ahead and behind, guard rails nowhere and there we are, a family of Florida flat landers driving the most difficult road ever, in the most difficult manner possible, with a tic-tic-tic-ing truck with no breakdown lanes in sight. I tried to busy myself taking pictures of the gorgeous (not terrifying) views that we were surrounded by but all the time I was wondering if we would slide backward down 9500 ft to death, be sideswiped by a stranger off the side of the road and down 9500 ft to our deaths, lose the trailer off a curve and be pulled down 9500 ft...well, you get the picture and it was not pretty.
This went on and on and on until finally we reached the end of Tioga Pass and by that time it was dark, nearing 9pm and we still had another 30 minutes to go to reach our campsite. I thought that once we exited Yosemite, we would find civilization and flat land. I was wrong. Continued nothingness, continued mountains, continued curves, this time with bonus signs reading 8% grade. Tic-tic-tic, it was no longer the sound of the truck, but the sound of my mental abilities. I continuously looked at our GPS, at the miles to go, at the minutes to go, and I swear that it was not changing. We must have had 20 miles to go for a good 2 hours and I started counting to 60 and then looking at the GPS to see if a mile had ticked off yet. When it hadn't, I counted to 360 and looked again. Aha, 3 miles had ticked off in that time so I counted to 3000 and looked again. Still 8 freakin' miles to go so I just kept counting and counting and willing us not to fly off the side of a mountain in the dark and had Bryan looked over at me right then, I am quite sure that I looked very much like a drooling zombie because I know that my mouth was hanging open and that there was nothing going on in my head other than counting and counting again. Rational thought, gone; want to get there safely now, its replacement.
I nearly cried when the GPS announced that we had arrived at our destination and we went bumbling along a completely black road and I'm looking at all these RVs to the right of us and Bryan just keeps bumbling along going straight and I completely lost it because he had driven right past the campground, right past safety and sanity and now we were stuck in Podunk land with no place to turn around and dirt driveways every few feet. Instead of stopping and consulting our GPS (which would have told me that we could have continued on that road and eventually looped around back to where we belonged) I immediately commanded Bryan to get us the hell back to the campground NOW by pulling forward into the nearest driveway and backing us up. Well, he tried. The left side tires of our truck fell off a mini cliff while the trailer threatened to back into a tree and then fall off its own mini-cliff and by that point Riley is screaming and wanting out of the vehicle.
After spinning the truck tires in the air for a few more seconds, Bryan pulled the truck forward onto land again and I got out into the blackness to help him even though he could not see me back there in the least. Mind you, as I'm out there in the Yosemite wilderness, the pamphlets they had given us at the Yosemite fee booth are ringing in my mind because, besides identifying the sites we could see, they also had numerous warnings about mountain lions and bears nestled amongst other death warnings like hidden waterfalls, hiking exhaustion, falling rocks, and hypothermia. Bears can smell cars full of food over 3 miles away and we had quite a smorgasbord going on in the truck alone not to mention the RV. Bears also enjoy roaming in the dark and they very much like people who are alone and there I was, alone, in the dark. My other choice was a truck, or an RV, both of which were soon sure to fall off a cliff. Great times.
Bryan magically got that tic-ing truck and the RV set on the right path again after perhaps a 21-point turn and the screams of Riley subsided. We pulled into the RV park at around 10pm and a man on a golf cart led us to our sight in the darkness. Lo and behold, our spot was a nice pitch-black area with a steep drop off to the rear and a steep drop off to the side. Oh, Joy! And, just about that time, as Bryan was trying to figure out how to wriggle us in there, our worn out, been driving twelve hours in the friggin' mountains and headwinds truck starts slipping and sliding in the gravel down yet another "hill." I politely asked the golf cart man if he, perhaps, had another site that would not threaten our lives for the umpteenth time that evening and he immediately took off in his golf cart for flatter grounds, correctly sensing my sliver of remaining sanity.
Day 12, June 25th: Yosemite, California
This day didn't start out much better for me because I was dreading the meandering and steep drive back to Yosemite and then the terrifying drive within Yosemite itself. It also didn't help to learn that the area we wanted to see in Yosemite, Wawona/Mariposa Grove, was 1.5 hours from the entrance to Yosemite and our campground was .5 hours away from that and oh, if you'd kindly recall, our truck was tic-tic-tic-ing! Bryan agreed to take the truck to a mechanic in nearby Groveland even though he was eager to see Yosemite, perhaps also sensing my sliver of sanity. Groveland is tiny, teensy-tiny, and the one mechanic we found who was open was already busy enough for the entire day even though it was only the morning, but he looked at the truck, heard the tic-ing, added some oil, and told us that Ford's engines shift all the oil to the back when going up inclines so that was probably what had happened. He told us to find the Ford dealership 45 minutes away in Oakdale when we were heading out and to just baby it for our time in Yosemite. I immediately wanted to drive right then to the Ford dealership because the tic-tic-tic-ing and the threat of breaking down in a mountainous, cell tower-free, bear-filled region was making me batty, but Bryan convinced me that all would be well, that it just needed an oil change, and that we should just enjoy our time in Yosemite and go to the Ford on our way out.
Yosemite is overwhelming, at first, to navigate, but once you've stared at the maps long enough and meandered around, it is quite easy, except that you should, under no circumstances, stare at the map while your husband is driving around and around and back and forth and over and up and down and through, and no guardrails there, and straight down there, and oy! I have never experienced car sickness before but the Yosemite roads got me this first day and I had to clamp my hands on both sides of my head to keep my brains in. We eventually got to Mariposa Grove, where the giant Sequoias are, and oh my gosh are they amazing. Trees, up, up, up and thick, thick, thick all throughout the forest, silent and sturdy and thrilling to see. We paid for a tram tour and thank goodness we did because we were able to see all of them and hear their history and stories. Truly a wonder to see something that has been there nearly 1800 years and will still be there another 1,000 years more. My favorite was the Faithful Couple--two sequoias that had grown so long and so close together for so many years that they became one whole tree. Majestic.
Day 13, June 26th: Yosemite, California
This time, I looked forward to going to Yosemite. Bryan had a handle on the curvy, mountainous roads and was, in fact, driving on them like James Bond, Bryan James Bond; I knew how to navigate the entire park without looking at the map and the truck was going to live to tic another day, so Bryan packed our bikes onto the truck and we headed for Yosemite Valley, only about an hour away this time. There are paved, traffic-free bike paths all over Yosemite Valley and it was easy for the girls to keep up with us on their bikes because there were a lot of downhill breathers which they loved coasting down. We went first to Mirror Lake, an absolutely enthralling bit of lake that is precisely a mirror, perfectly reflecting Glacier Point mountain and all the scenery surrounding it, even the tiniest of leaves. Truly mesmerizing. We did a bit of hiking and rock climbing from there; Bryan and the girls made "rock snowmen" in an area where there were already hundreds of snowmen precariously balanced all over the place and, even though it was man-made, it was quirky enough to grab your attention for awhile.
The girls enjoyed pushing my limits by straying from marked paths to crawl along rocks near (as I had been warned in my Yosemite pamphlets) swift-moving, cold water or climbing up huge boulders that may or may not have housed mountain lions and bears eager for a sweet treat walking alone.
We finished exploring that area after a couple hours and the girls had enough energy remaining to bike to the Upper and Lower Yosemite Falls, beautiful! Water sounds like the Bellagio only much more peaceful. We also biked to a swinging bridge over a large swimming lake located next to a meadow bordered on three sides by mountains. You could not take a bad picture anywhere in Yosemite Valley and it was a great family day spent in nature. Definitely either bring bikes or plan on renting them if you go. The other tourists walking around (with their gallon jugs of water) didn't see a third of what we did because everything is very spread out.
Day 14, June 27th: Yosemite, California to Folsom, California
I was mighty pleased to leave the Yosemite area and that terrifying Tioga Pass because I anticipated traveling down a mountain for just a bit to flat ground. Wrong again. Leaving Yosemite is just about as terrifying as arriving in Yosemite except that the curves are bigger and there are more of them. Down and around and down and around the mountains you go and Bryan deserves a sainthood for handling all of that and me at the same time. It took us three hours to reach Folsom where Bryan's college roommate, Jeff, lives with his wife, Lisa, and their adorable girls Sydney & Caitlyn.
We utilized the Folsom Ford dealership straight away (we also had squeaking brakes at the point--can I get an amen?!) but were told that we had to wait three days for a specialist so we zipped over to a Goodyear service center instead. The diagnosis for the tic-ing truck ended up being a build up of carbon in the engine and there is not much we can do about that except to stop driving so much in the freakin' mountains. Right-o. They gave us an oil change and instructed us to pick up some fuel injector and to buy the highest grade of gasoline for awhile at Chevron which includes Techron. (The timing couldn't be better--buy the most expensive gas in one of the most expensively gassed states, California? Right-o! Kill me now.) The brakes were also a result of mountain driving and there wasn't much we could do about that except to stop driving so much in the freakin' mountains. Right-o, 10-4, I got you, Babe.
Jeff and Lisa made a home-cooked meal for us that included tri-tips, Bryan was in meat heaven! and Riley really enjoyed them too. That girl looks like me but eats like him--traitor! Our girls were especially thankful to be playing with girls, in a two-story house full of toys, just like theirs back home in their comfort zone and the adults talked and caught up from the years between sightings and it was just good times and nice to feel normal again. Folsom is also a beautiful, family-oriented town with tons of bike trails as well as a road called "Riley St." Perfection!
Day 15th, June 28th: Folsom, California to Winnemucca, Nevada
The astute reader, and Johnny Cash fan, will note that we went from Folsom, of Folsom Prison fame, directly to Winnemucca of "I've Been Everywhere" Man fame. Winnemucca is fun to say but that is about all I can tell you about it because we have been cozied up in the RV since arriving at the campground a few hours ago. Bryan is asleep on the couch in front of the TV, which is on, the girls are in their room playing happily together, and I'm writing this at the dinette table while all the animals snooze comfortably. It seems that we have unconsciously returned to our normal comfort zones. Woot!
I'm not sure what lies ahead for us, but I know that it will be memorable and that we will face it together. It better not include mountains.
Saturday, June 28, 2014
Days 11-14
Day 11 (Vegas to Yosemite)
The only drive more boring and plain than west Texas is the Sierra Nevada.
We didn't break down.
We didn't run out of gas.
Driving the Tioga Pass at night across the Yosemite National Forest is amazing, scary, slow, and stressful.
There is no cell coverage or Wi-Fi which I think is by design.
Towing a trailer up the mountain is very hard.
Coasting a trailer back down the mountain is scary.
I found out that I can do a 7 point turn on a 2 lane road with a side of gravel road pulling a 35ft trailer without getting stuck.
I don't want to do any more 7 point turns on 2 lane roads. Ever!
Day 12 (Yosemite day 1)
The giant seqouas of the Mariposa Grove are amazing.
The park is humongous!
It is a 2 hours to get to the grove.
(Tip) Gas is 50 cents more expensive in the middle of the park.
Parking fills up fast, but they have free shuttles, not to be confused with paid for tour trams.
The open roof tour was pretty awesome especially since that would have been about 3 hours of walking.
Day 13 (Yosemite day 2)
Biking through the Valley is probably the most fun I've had on this trip so far.
Mirror lake is low on water, someone should really fill that thing up.
El Capitan is really high, especially from the ground.
I said I could hike up.
It would take me a week :)
This place brings a new meaning to the term Big Rocks.
My kids like climbing on rocks.
Jessica doesn't like the idea of our kids liking climbing on rocks.
Day 14 (Yosemite to Folsom, CA)
Nice drive.
Nice city.
Nice people.
Nice Wal-Mart.
Nice college friends to visit.
On to the famous town of Winnemucca... "I was traveling down a dusty Winnemucca road... I've been everywhere man, across the deserts there man..."
Tuesday, June 24, 2014
Days 8-10
Day 8 (Petrified Forest to Williams, AZ)
There is as lot of desert in Arizona.
Williams is a nice little town.
The Camping World in Flagstaff has no parking for RVs.
We saw a tumbleweed, it was tiny.
Day 9 (The Grand Canyon)
There are no words to describe the Grand Canyon.
I took over 140 pictures.
It looks different every few feet.
Squirrels are very tame here.
Hiking down is worth it, the canyon looks better from inside.
I can't imagine riding a donkey down.
I can imagine Jessica looking at me like I was crazy if I suggested a donkey ride anywhere.
"The Train" was cool. It took us from Williams to The Grand Canyon National Park.
Day 10 (Williams to Las Vegas)
The town of Seligman was said to inspire the movie Cars. I think it was the concept only because it really didn't look like the movie at all.
The Hoover dam is huge.
It is 103 degrees.
They don't let you park RVs close.
Riley and me walked down to see. The way back up was harder.
It is 103 degrees.
Jessica finally saw Vegas.
We were all out until 1am to see stuff.
The Bellagio fountain is cool.
Yes, Day 7 is missing.
Not sure what happened with that.
I had to think for about 3 minutes to figure out today was Tuesday.
Saturday, June 21, 2014
The "Go Everywhere Trip" by Jessica Renee Collins
Hello again, my friends. It's Jessica, located 5000 feet above and 3 hours behind where I normally dwell, so don't blame me for wherever this goes.
I'm in our RV at a KOA campground in Holbrook, AZ and the nicest thing I can say about this area, besides the fact that I haven't yet run into any rattlesnakes, is that they have a phenomenal radio station: KSNX 105.5 if you ever find yourself here. They've played more Michael Jackson songs in 3 hours than I've heard in 13 years in Jacksonville, FL. (In fact, I bet you $3000 that 95.1 WAPE is playing "Talk Dirty to Me" right now in Jax, at whatever time you're reading this. Just donate my winnings to St. Jude's, thank you.)
KSNX played Marvin Gaye's "Got to Give It Up" while I was cooking dinner and let me tell you, spaghetti has never been so steamy. I cannot hear that song without picturing Sam Rockwell dancing to it in Charlie's Angels at the precise moment when you realize that he's actually a bad guy...a very, very bad guy. Men, if you don't do anything else in life, make sure that you dance when the opportunity arises. Nothing you do is sexier, believe me...unless you're also cleaning or putting the kids to bed or grocery shopping while dancing and, if you can dance like Sam Rockwell does in that scene, well then...
I digress! We have veered far, far away from my present here in the Holbrook KOA and its various sizes of pebbles that make up the entire campground topography, but now I do have to mention that it is 10pm here on Friday, June 20th, and KSNX just played the National Anthem and went silent. Silent! Astounding. We may have actually driven back to 1983 this week which is okay by me because, as far as I know, that is when I started having some semblance of a bucket list containing my desire to see all of the 50 states before I die. I was 6 years old and either on my way to or from Disney World when I saw an RV painted with one of those black outlined maps of the United States and all the states those lucky people had visited were filled in, solid and unchanging: purple, orange, green, turquoise; it was beautiful and I wanted a map of my own someday and wouldn't you know, 17 years later I married a guy with his own bucket list dream to own an RV and 14 years pass and now we've got two dreams justa melding into one with a coupla kids, 4 cats, and 2 dogs along for the ride. This is our "Go Everywhere" trip according to Jordyn Collins, recently 8, and she couldn't be more right. I've been more places in one week on this trip than I've been in 37 years and I am very, very thankful.
Day 1, June 14th: Jacksonville, FL to Lillian, AL
This leg of the trip was noteworthy because we were still packing the RV until 2:30pm on the day of departure...apparently packing for a 5 week trip takes a while, who knew? Also noteworthy, Riley's 2 year old cat, Thunder Princess, hates, with a passion, Scout, the 16 year old geriatric diabetic feline who was doing her best to be a good passenger by sleeping the hours away. Not good enough for Thunder Princess, no. Thunder Princess was pissed that Scout had the audacity to sleep, ever so calmly, right by her own ticked off countenance so Thunder Princess smacked Scout, repeatedly, out of a dead sleep. The resulting caterwauls that occurred between the two of them for the next 20 minutes or so added a pleasant ambience to an already stressed out Bryan who had determined on this first leg, that the top speed for dragging a house behind your vehicle containing everything you need for 5 weeks, is around 55 mph and oh, by the by, you get around 10mph for gas mileage. Can I get a Woot! on that news? Anyone, anyone?
Day 2, June 15th: Lillian, AL to Ruston, LA
Ah, Father's Day! Sure to be a delightful day because here we are on Bryan's dream excursion in his dream RV with his dreamy wife and children and pets. Nope. The day started at 7:30am with Bryan repeatedly slamming the door to the RV, hard. Slam, slam, SLam, SLAm, SLAM, SLAM, SLAM! The noise, shockingly, wakes Jessica up and the words that stream out of her mouth are nowhere near close to, "Good morning, my love. Happy Father's Day and do you, perhaps, need a little help with the door there?" Nope. Her actual words are too filthy for your eyes so we'll skip that part and move on to the fact that Bryan is slamming the door because we arrived at the campground late the night before, in the dark, and he did not have time to level the RV properly so the door tongue is not lining up correctly with the door hole and, oh, by the way, while Bryan was trying to exit the door at 7:30 in the morning, both dogs thought they were accompanying him on his task so they bolted, leash-less, out the door and out of sight. Grand times.
Let's just skip ahead an hour or two to our departure because surely things got better for Bryan, right? No. We got everything loaded and unhooked, all 10 hearts accounted for, and slowly pulled away from a campsite we hoped never to return to. As we're bumbling along the exit street, we hear our neighbor, a shirtless, jean-shorted, permanent camper, scream out, "Whoa! WHoa! WHOa! WHOA!" We felt nothing, we saw nothing, but still we stopped and Bryan got out to find that he had hit the tree next to our campsite with the back left corner of the RV and narrowly avoided ripping our bikes right off the bike rack. Happy Father's Day, Bryan! I, unfortunately, could not get a picture of the wounded tree or the two bare-chested permanent camper guys yacking over Bryan's shoulders as he tried to rectify this situation, but there is a pic of the RV's damage and, although it is sad, it is a badge that every single RV bears as near as I can tell and its a wound that Bryan won't ever forget or ever repeat.
His Father's Day continued along that same train with more caterwauling from Scout again being abused by Thunder Princess and then, in Jackson, Mississippi, after the most horribly bumpy roads we've ever encountered, a frantic passerby just honking and hoNKing and HONKING at us, pointing at the rear of our RV. So, Bryan pulled over (at an exit! not on the side of the highway!) and we found that our bikes had just about bumped off the bike rack right onto I-20W.
Day 3, June 16th: Ruston, LA to Dallas, TX
We spent a wonderful (fabulous! stupendous!) time camping at Lincoln Parish Park in Ruston, LA which consists of a gorgeous lake surrounded by a 1.5 mile bike/walking trail and a swimming beach & this seemed to be when we transitioned from "we really don't know what the hell we're doing" rookies to "we've got this $hit" confident campers. We had lunch in Shreveport with Bryan's family and we left the pretty state of Louisiana intact, no incidents or mishaps for an entire state!
Day 4, June 17th: Dallas, TX
Our entire family liked our time in Texas the most so far on this trip, one week in. I could not get over the continuous breeze we felt while there. All day long, it felt like the Florida sea breeze and I was absolutely shocked to find that feeling in a place that contained no beach. It was wonderful and I could have stayed outside feeling it for all time. I later learned from an employee at the Dallas Arboretum that we were apparently in Dallas on a freakishly gusty day because, he said, their usual weather is hot and still. So, I'm thankful that we were there when we were and I am choosing not to believe him that Dallas isn't windy at all times on all days.
I had read about the Rory Meyers Children's Adventure Garden, part of the Dallas Arboretum, in Family Fun magazine and I knew that it was a place we needed to check out on this trip. We were not disappointed. We seriously could have spent the entire day there and still not done everything in the children's portion of the arboretum and we only caught glimpses of the rest of the arboretum but what we did see was seriously impressive. Gorgeous and well-kept flowers, trees, grounds, fountains, waterfalls...I need to go back and spend two days just to see and experience everything and I am not even a flower person. This place has got it going on and you should get yourself going on to get there. The children's area is very focused on hands-on learning--plant growth, alternative energies, math & patterns in nature, it was nice to experience a city investing so much in the future of America and, speaking of America, all over Dallas, there are American flags flying large, high and proud and damn they looked good in all that wind.
In Dallas, Bryan got some firsthand knowledge of what the girls and I are really like in his first full day traipsing around with us instead of being cooped up safely away with his codes and his computers. We sing songs, the girls and I. Not just any songs either, these are homegrown songs. A current favorite goes like this: "Seven-eleven, seven-eleven, seven-eleven, SLURPEE STORE!" This one must be sung 18 times in a row because, you see, 7 plus 11 is 18. Another favorite goes: "Fif-ty states in the Uni-ted States, fif-ty states in the Uni-ted States..." and this one must be sung 50 times in a row because you see, well you know, and you can imagine the horror on Bryan's face after an hour or two of us singing these. Apparently there is a select audience of 3 for these tunes.
We visited Dealey Plaza after the Dallas Arboretum and I can't really describe exactly how I felt seeing the podium where Zapruder took his film of Kennedy's assassination, the grassy knoll, the book depository, the two x's on the road marking precisely where JFK was shot, the closeness of the overpass where he would have been home-free had he only made it there, the other two roads they could have taken to reach that plaza. It was sadness and anger and black and white made real. Definitely a place I would recommend that all Americans experience.
We also visited the JFK Memorial Plaza, a 30-foot high, four-walled open tomb, and the Belo Garden in the downtown area where the girls played in spray fountains for a few hours, having a blast with two "little while" friends. All around us people worked in office buildings; I would have absolutely hated us if I had been looking at our scene through those office windows. Hours to spend doing absolutely nothing but enjoying life. Grand indeed.
Day 5, June 18th: Dallas, TX to Amarillo, TX
The northwestern part of Texas is definitely nowhere near as nice as Dallas. Fort Worth was downright ugly to drive through and I would not spend any time at all visiting there if I were you...unless it is to dance with Sam Rockwell.
Amarillo was quirky, with a great KOA, and I got the feeling that no one took themselves too seriously there, especially when I saw the shuttles taking people to the "World Famous Big Texan Steak Ranch." The shuttles were limousines from back in my day--big, boxy, and bad a$$ made even more so by the longhorns attached to the front. Killer! We had to check out this Steak Ranch where people can eat a 72 oz steak plus sides and a drink for free if they complete the task within the hour. We saw three people attempt the feat, but none of them made it past 48 oz of steak ingestion. The restaurant was kitsch to the hilt and we loved it. The girls got free cowboy hats with their meals and Riley had her milk delivered in a blue plastic souvenir boot. Our drinks were served in plastic cups that described the history of the place and the current record holder for the steak-eat, a 120 lb woman who consumed two of the steaks in one sitting--her first only took 4 minutes and she got both down in 14. Incredible...you tube that $hit; it's for real.
An oddly cold rain fell on us in big droplets as we left the restaurant and it later hailed with whooshing winds and crazy lightning in the middle of the night, so Amarillo definitely knows how to keep you entertained.
Beware that all of the exit ramps on Texas interstates are also entrance ramps, maddeningly frustrating even when not pulling a giant house behind one's vehicle.
Day 6, June 19th: Amarillo, TX to Albuquerque, NM
We picked up a few cans of spray paint from our Amarillo KOA gift shop and headed to exit 60 on I-40W, previously known as Route 66 (where you get your kicks, if you recall,) to a roadside attraction known as Cadillac Ranch--10 Cadillacs aged between 1949-1963 buried halfway in the ground at the same angle as the Great Pyramid of Giza in Egypt. America at its finest, I tell you. We were thrilled to see it and I can't explain why other than it felt like we became interlinked with American history.
Due to the aforementioned hail storm during our night's slumber, the Cadillacs were disappointedly all submerged in calf-height mud and virtually unreachable. Riley's Nikes quickly turned to adobe bricks and I, being a clean freak, was rather horrified and spent much of my time there trying to figure out how we were not going to permanently scar the RV or my car with Cadillac Ranch American History mud. Riley, inexplicably, cried when I said that we were just going to throw her shoes into a nearby dumpster and buy her new ones. (She won that argument and is now wearing faintly brown and odiferous Nikes cleaned by Dad with a campground garden hose.)
Jordyn managed to cross the mud moat on a small board leading to the most westward Cadillac and she nestled inside its belly there painting green happily with Riley following up in red. Bryan eventually made his way in there as well and painted "Crazy Collins RV" in green letters on a red background. The dude is cool. I painted a quick streak of green from a safe distance away and then we expelled the rest of our paint drawing our names and random pictures on the dry part of the ground, in a field, in the middle of a highway, in Texas. It doesn't get much better.
Day 7, June 20th: Albuquerque, NM to Holbrook, AZ
Upon entering New Mexico, I couldn't believe that I was actually in New Mexico when less than a week ago I had been in Florida where I had spent a big 35 year chunk of my life living life away. Every rock formation we came across, a butte? a mesa? a mountain? a mazing! just looked like it had been sitting there waiting patiently for me to finally get my booty in gear to come and see it. The landscape is nothing I've ever seen before in my life and while it's interesting and a novelty, it's not something I would crave to live amongst. Trees, bushes, grass and other greenery are hard to come by and the plants they do have here and in Arizona look harsh, pokey, frazzled, dry, and just plain scraggly. Not happy trees.
We had just a short amount of time to look around Albuquerque and since one of my all time favorite television shows, Breaking Bad, was filmed there, I knew I had to see a piece of Walter White for myself. I consulted my secret source (code name Google) and found the actual address to Walter White's house which features prominently in the show. I could not believe that I was driving the same streets that he did, especially when I went down the road he so often went down and stopped in the place where he and so many others stopped to survey his house. Unfortunately, the current owner of the house was standing there in the garage, under a bank of security cameras, so my plans to grab a pic of myself in front of the house looking all blue-meth-like were thwarted. It was still so very cool to see in person and if you're a fan and in Albuquerque for longer than I was and among other Breaking Bad fans (Bryan referred to it as Ron White's house and I almost had to axe him), I would recommend taking the Breaking Bad trolley tour which takes you all around Albuquerque to the major sites from the show, including Los Pollos Hermanos and the car wash. Good stuff.
My secret source also informed me that there was a kick-a$$ roadside attraction in Albuquerque called Rock Snake. It's a 400-foot long diamondback rattlesnake sculpted from rocks and it's just about the coolest thing ever.
And so, my friends, here I am again in the Holbrook KOA with a silent radio and nine of the ten hearts sleeping cozily in our RV and more stories and memories to come starting tomorrow. I feel like we've already had a full vacation everyday of this trip so far and we still have four weeks to go! Unbelievable. We are so very lucky and the memories the girls are going to carry with them of their crazy Collins family...makes a mama tear up a little or that could just be road dust or animal fur.
Tonight, Riley and Jordyn played with seven other random children at the Holbrook KOA playground, going down a steep metal slide into a pile of pebbles over and over and then just spinning and spinning on a rusty old-time merry go round, playing a game where they tried to retrieve flung flip flops from the ground as they spun and they all just laughed together and had a ball and I wish life could always be like that for all of us. Keep dancing, my friends!
I'm in our RV at a KOA campground in Holbrook, AZ and the nicest thing I can say about this area, besides the fact that I haven't yet run into any rattlesnakes, is that they have a phenomenal radio station: KSNX 105.5 if you ever find yourself here. They've played more Michael Jackson songs in 3 hours than I've heard in 13 years in Jacksonville, FL. (In fact, I bet you $3000 that 95.1 WAPE is playing "Talk Dirty to Me" right now in Jax, at whatever time you're reading this. Just donate my winnings to St. Jude's, thank you.)
KSNX played Marvin Gaye's "Got to Give It Up" while I was cooking dinner and let me tell you, spaghetti has never been so steamy. I cannot hear that song without picturing Sam Rockwell dancing to it in Charlie's Angels at the precise moment when you realize that he's actually a bad guy...a very, very bad guy. Men, if you don't do anything else in life, make sure that you dance when the opportunity arises. Nothing you do is sexier, believe me...unless you're also cleaning or putting the kids to bed or grocery shopping while dancing and, if you can dance like Sam Rockwell does in that scene, well then...
I digress! We have veered far, far away from my present here in the Holbrook KOA and its various sizes of pebbles that make up the entire campground topography, but now I do have to mention that it is 10pm here on Friday, June 20th, and KSNX just played the National Anthem and went silent. Silent! Astounding. We may have actually driven back to 1983 this week which is okay by me because, as far as I know, that is when I started having some semblance of a bucket list containing my desire to see all of the 50 states before I die. I was 6 years old and either on my way to or from Disney World when I saw an RV painted with one of those black outlined maps of the United States and all the states those lucky people had visited were filled in, solid and unchanging: purple, orange, green, turquoise; it was beautiful and I wanted a map of my own someday and wouldn't you know, 17 years later I married a guy with his own bucket list dream to own an RV and 14 years pass and now we've got two dreams justa melding into one with a coupla kids, 4 cats, and 2 dogs along for the ride. This is our "Go Everywhere" trip according to Jordyn Collins, recently 8, and she couldn't be more right. I've been more places in one week on this trip than I've been in 37 years and I am very, very thankful.
Day 1, June 14th: Jacksonville, FL to Lillian, AL
This leg of the trip was noteworthy because we were still packing the RV until 2:30pm on the day of departure...apparently packing for a 5 week trip takes a while, who knew? Also noteworthy, Riley's 2 year old cat, Thunder Princess, hates, with a passion, Scout, the 16 year old geriatric diabetic feline who was doing her best to be a good passenger by sleeping the hours away. Not good enough for Thunder Princess, no. Thunder Princess was pissed that Scout had the audacity to sleep, ever so calmly, right by her own ticked off countenance so Thunder Princess smacked Scout, repeatedly, out of a dead sleep. The resulting caterwauls that occurred between the two of them for the next 20 minutes or so added a pleasant ambience to an already stressed out Bryan who had determined on this first leg, that the top speed for dragging a house behind your vehicle containing everything you need for 5 weeks, is around 55 mph and oh, by the by, you get around 10mph for gas mileage. Can I get a Woot! on that news? Anyone, anyone?
Day 2, June 15th: Lillian, AL to Ruston, LA
Ah, Father's Day! Sure to be a delightful day because here we are on Bryan's dream excursion in his dream RV with his dreamy wife and children and pets. Nope. The day started at 7:30am with Bryan repeatedly slamming the door to the RV, hard. Slam, slam, SLam, SLAm, SLAM, SLAM, SLAM! The noise, shockingly, wakes Jessica up and the words that stream out of her mouth are nowhere near close to, "Good morning, my love. Happy Father's Day and do you, perhaps, need a little help with the door there?" Nope. Her actual words are too filthy for your eyes so we'll skip that part and move on to the fact that Bryan is slamming the door because we arrived at the campground late the night before, in the dark, and he did not have time to level the RV properly so the door tongue is not lining up correctly with the door hole and, oh, by the way, while Bryan was trying to exit the door at 7:30 in the morning, both dogs thought they were accompanying him on his task so they bolted, leash-less, out the door and out of sight. Grand times.
Let's just skip ahead an hour or two to our departure because surely things got better for Bryan, right? No. We got everything loaded and unhooked, all 10 hearts accounted for, and slowly pulled away from a campsite we hoped never to return to. As we're bumbling along the exit street, we hear our neighbor, a shirtless, jean-shorted, permanent camper, scream out, "Whoa! WHoa! WHOa! WHOA!" We felt nothing, we saw nothing, but still we stopped and Bryan got out to find that he had hit the tree next to our campsite with the back left corner of the RV and narrowly avoided ripping our bikes right off the bike rack. Happy Father's Day, Bryan! I, unfortunately, could not get a picture of the wounded tree or the two bare-chested permanent camper guys yacking over Bryan's shoulders as he tried to rectify this situation, but there is a pic of the RV's damage and, although it is sad, it is a badge that every single RV bears as near as I can tell and its a wound that Bryan won't ever forget or ever repeat.
His Father's Day continued along that same train with more caterwauling from Scout again being abused by Thunder Princess and then, in Jackson, Mississippi, after the most horribly bumpy roads we've ever encountered, a frantic passerby just honking and hoNKing and HONKING at us, pointing at the rear of our RV. So, Bryan pulled over (at an exit! not on the side of the highway!) and we found that our bikes had just about bumped off the bike rack right onto I-20W.
Day 3, June 16th: Ruston, LA to Dallas, TX
We spent a wonderful (fabulous! stupendous!) time camping at Lincoln Parish Park in Ruston, LA which consists of a gorgeous lake surrounded by a 1.5 mile bike/walking trail and a swimming beach & this seemed to be when we transitioned from "we really don't know what the hell we're doing" rookies to "we've got this $hit" confident campers. We had lunch in Shreveport with Bryan's family and we left the pretty state of Louisiana intact, no incidents or mishaps for an entire state!
Day 4, June 17th: Dallas, TX
Our entire family liked our time in Texas the most so far on this trip, one week in. I could not get over the continuous breeze we felt while there. All day long, it felt like the Florida sea breeze and I was absolutely shocked to find that feeling in a place that contained no beach. It was wonderful and I could have stayed outside feeling it for all time. I later learned from an employee at the Dallas Arboretum that we were apparently in Dallas on a freakishly gusty day because, he said, their usual weather is hot and still. So, I'm thankful that we were there when we were and I am choosing not to believe him that Dallas isn't windy at all times on all days.
I had read about the Rory Meyers Children's Adventure Garden, part of the Dallas Arboretum, in Family Fun magazine and I knew that it was a place we needed to check out on this trip. We were not disappointed. We seriously could have spent the entire day there and still not done everything in the children's portion of the arboretum and we only caught glimpses of the rest of the arboretum but what we did see was seriously impressive. Gorgeous and well-kept flowers, trees, grounds, fountains, waterfalls...I need to go back and spend two days just to see and experience everything and I am not even a flower person. This place has got it going on and you should get yourself going on to get there. The children's area is very focused on hands-on learning--plant growth, alternative energies, math & patterns in nature, it was nice to experience a city investing so much in the future of America and, speaking of America, all over Dallas, there are American flags flying large, high and proud and damn they looked good in all that wind.
In Dallas, Bryan got some firsthand knowledge of what the girls and I are really like in his first full day traipsing around with us instead of being cooped up safely away with his codes and his computers. We sing songs, the girls and I. Not just any songs either, these are homegrown songs. A current favorite goes like this: "Seven-eleven, seven-eleven, seven-eleven, SLURPEE STORE!" This one must be sung 18 times in a row because, you see, 7 plus 11 is 18. Another favorite goes: "Fif-ty states in the Uni-ted States, fif-ty states in the Uni-ted States..." and this one must be sung 50 times in a row because you see, well you know, and you can imagine the horror on Bryan's face after an hour or two of us singing these. Apparently there is a select audience of 3 for these tunes.
We visited Dealey Plaza after the Dallas Arboretum and I can't really describe exactly how I felt seeing the podium where Zapruder took his film of Kennedy's assassination, the grassy knoll, the book depository, the two x's on the road marking precisely where JFK was shot, the closeness of the overpass where he would have been home-free had he only made it there, the other two roads they could have taken to reach that plaza. It was sadness and anger and black and white made real. Definitely a place I would recommend that all Americans experience.
We also visited the JFK Memorial Plaza, a 30-foot high, four-walled open tomb, and the Belo Garden in the downtown area where the girls played in spray fountains for a few hours, having a blast with two "little while" friends. All around us people worked in office buildings; I would have absolutely hated us if I had been looking at our scene through those office windows. Hours to spend doing absolutely nothing but enjoying life. Grand indeed.
Day 5, June 18th: Dallas, TX to Amarillo, TX
The northwestern part of Texas is definitely nowhere near as nice as Dallas. Fort Worth was downright ugly to drive through and I would not spend any time at all visiting there if I were you...unless it is to dance with Sam Rockwell.
Amarillo was quirky, with a great KOA, and I got the feeling that no one took themselves too seriously there, especially when I saw the shuttles taking people to the "World Famous Big Texan Steak Ranch." The shuttles were limousines from back in my day--big, boxy, and bad a$$ made even more so by the longhorns attached to the front. Killer! We had to check out this Steak Ranch where people can eat a 72 oz steak plus sides and a drink for free if they complete the task within the hour. We saw three people attempt the feat, but none of them made it past 48 oz of steak ingestion. The restaurant was kitsch to the hilt and we loved it. The girls got free cowboy hats with their meals and Riley had her milk delivered in a blue plastic souvenir boot. Our drinks were served in plastic cups that described the history of the place and the current record holder for the steak-eat, a 120 lb woman who consumed two of the steaks in one sitting--her first only took 4 minutes and she got both down in 14. Incredible...you tube that $hit; it's for real.
An oddly cold rain fell on us in big droplets as we left the restaurant and it later hailed with whooshing winds and crazy lightning in the middle of the night, so Amarillo definitely knows how to keep you entertained.
Beware that all of the exit ramps on Texas interstates are also entrance ramps, maddeningly frustrating even when not pulling a giant house behind one's vehicle.
Day 6, June 19th: Amarillo, TX to Albuquerque, NM
We picked up a few cans of spray paint from our Amarillo KOA gift shop and headed to exit 60 on I-40W, previously known as Route 66 (where you get your kicks, if you recall,) to a roadside attraction known as Cadillac Ranch--10 Cadillacs aged between 1949-1963 buried halfway in the ground at the same angle as the Great Pyramid of Giza in Egypt. America at its finest, I tell you. We were thrilled to see it and I can't explain why other than it felt like we became interlinked with American history.
Due to the aforementioned hail storm during our night's slumber, the Cadillacs were disappointedly all submerged in calf-height mud and virtually unreachable. Riley's Nikes quickly turned to adobe bricks and I, being a clean freak, was rather horrified and spent much of my time there trying to figure out how we were not going to permanently scar the RV or my car with Cadillac Ranch American History mud. Riley, inexplicably, cried when I said that we were just going to throw her shoes into a nearby dumpster and buy her new ones. (She won that argument and is now wearing faintly brown and odiferous Nikes cleaned by Dad with a campground garden hose.)
Jordyn managed to cross the mud moat on a small board leading to the most westward Cadillac and she nestled inside its belly there painting green happily with Riley following up in red. Bryan eventually made his way in there as well and painted "Crazy Collins RV" in green letters on a red background. The dude is cool. I painted a quick streak of green from a safe distance away and then we expelled the rest of our paint drawing our names and random pictures on the dry part of the ground, in a field, in the middle of a highway, in Texas. It doesn't get much better.
Day 7, June 20th: Albuquerque, NM to Holbrook, AZ
Upon entering New Mexico, I couldn't believe that I was actually in New Mexico when less than a week ago I had been in Florida where I had spent a big 35 year chunk of my life living life away. Every rock formation we came across, a butte? a mesa? a mountain? a mazing! just looked like it had been sitting there waiting patiently for me to finally get my booty in gear to come and see it. The landscape is nothing I've ever seen before in my life and while it's interesting and a novelty, it's not something I would crave to live amongst. Trees, bushes, grass and other greenery are hard to come by and the plants they do have here and in Arizona look harsh, pokey, frazzled, dry, and just plain scraggly. Not happy trees.
We had just a short amount of time to look around Albuquerque and since one of my all time favorite television shows, Breaking Bad, was filmed there, I knew I had to see a piece of Walter White for myself. I consulted my secret source (code name Google) and found the actual address to Walter White's house which features prominently in the show. I could not believe that I was driving the same streets that he did, especially when I went down the road he so often went down and stopped in the place where he and so many others stopped to survey his house. Unfortunately, the current owner of the house was standing there in the garage, under a bank of security cameras, so my plans to grab a pic of myself in front of the house looking all blue-meth-like were thwarted. It was still so very cool to see in person and if you're a fan and in Albuquerque for longer than I was and among other Breaking Bad fans (Bryan referred to it as Ron White's house and I almost had to axe him), I would recommend taking the Breaking Bad trolley tour which takes you all around Albuquerque to the major sites from the show, including Los Pollos Hermanos and the car wash. Good stuff.
My secret source also informed me that there was a kick-a$$ roadside attraction in Albuquerque called Rock Snake. It's a 400-foot long diamondback rattlesnake sculpted from rocks and it's just about the coolest thing ever.
And so, my friends, here I am again in the Holbrook KOA with a silent radio and nine of the ten hearts sleeping cozily in our RV and more stories and memories to come starting tomorrow. I feel like we've already had a full vacation everyday of this trip so far and we still have four weeks to go! Unbelievable. We are so very lucky and the memories the girls are going to carry with them of their crazy Collins family...makes a mama tear up a little or that could just be road dust or animal fur.
Tonight, Riley and Jordyn played with seven other random children at the Holbrook KOA playground, going down a steep metal slide into a pile of pebbles over and over and then just spinning and spinning on a rusty old-time merry go round, playing a game where they tried to retrieve flung flip flops from the ground as they spun and they all just laughed together and had a ball and I wish life could always be like that for all of us. Keep dancing, my friends!
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