Mar. 21
The weather has finally improved, and it should be 70 today. The sun was shining yesterday, but it was still chilly. We drove into Bisbee, AZ and had lunch at a real cowboy bar. Enchiladas and chili. I was going to order the stuffed “rellenos”, but the waitress could see that I was a gringo, and kindly warned me that they were jalapenos, not sweet peppers. I can’t take the heat (which is why I scrupulously avoid the kitchen) so I was grateful for the advice. Lorraine likes spicy food, and told me to “put on my big girl pants and deal with it!” But since we were splitting the two dishes, cooler heads prevailed, and I persuaded her to go with the enchiladas.
Spellcheck just informed me that I had spelled grateful wrong (“greatful”). Jerry Garcia continues to annoy me from beyond the grave.
Bisbee was interesting, and we liked it. It had a bit of a Woodstock vibe, I thought. We found a great place that was grinding coffee and bought a couple of pounds. The RV smells delicious this morning, even before we start the brewing. We plan to drive today to a place called “Patagonia” which we heard good things about; and then to “Green Valley”, which I am told has a January average high temperature of 65. It will probably be snowing there.

Mar. 23
Passed through Patagonia, which we liked a lot, and then Tubac, which we had been advised to check out. Patagonia was a real town, (as opposed to Tubac, which was essentially an expensive shopping outlet) and there (Patagonia) I was walking the dog when a man who looked remarkably like Newt Gingrich walked by. I mean dead ringer. So much so that I asked if he was the candidate himself. I thought Arizona might be having a primary election, which would explain his presence there. He actually played me along for a little while before finally admitting that he was not. Obviously he had done this dance before. The resemblance really was quite remarkable. Disappointed that I hadn’t gotten a chance to put in my pitch for a cabinet appointment in the Gingrich administration, Logan and I moved on to find a good place for him to poop. We were more successful in that endeavor.
Last night we camped in a state park called “Picacho Peak State Park”. For $25 per night we got plug-in electricity at our spot, a beautiful bathhouse, dumpsite, and fresh water refill. Went for a hike, but Logan is getting older, and could not make it all the way to the top of Picacho Peak. (That’s the excuse I’m going with.) Sunny, with temperature in the 80’s. The stars were beautiful with no city lights anywhere nearby, and the quiet was wonderful. The campsites were far enough away from each other that there was no feeling of crowding. The whole place was quite idyllic, and we could have stayed longer; but we are within striking distance of Yuma, so we got back on the road this morning, hoping to reach there by nightfall. On the road today, we experienced our first gas prices in excess of $4 per gallon. It seems to be going up steadily as we approach the California border. Tough to know who to blame, but I’m going with Newt Gingrich.