Apr. 27 Iowa, Illinois, Indiana, and now Michigan. One after another, the states have been rolling by as we head home to NJ. The weather has been cool, and we’ve found ourselves missing home and family more lately; so we’ve been focused on making our 250 or so miles eastward each day. Iowa had wireless internet at every rest stop (kudos!); and Indiana made route 80, which has been free since California, a toll road (hiss!). The detour off of route 80 up north to Michigan for a couple of days was to see a friend who lives near Kalamazoo. This provided a little break from the monotony of the highway. We had some nice meals and a couple of good movies on the TV in his house. (Finally saw “Master and Commander” with Russell Crowe, and enjoyed it.) Kalamazoo proved to be a beautiful little city with a great walking downtown area, with our host (Steve) serving as our tour guide. But today I am glad to be back on the road, headed for home and hearth. (Read: “big screen TV”) The trick will be to get to Route 80 without too much delay. As I sit writing this, we are in suburban Michigan, where Lorraine has noticed yard sale signs, and persuaded me to stop at one. We don’t need anything, we have no space to carry anything, and we don’t have the time to spare. But all of that is trumped by the fact that she asked me nicely.

Apr. 22 Yesterday Lorraine said to me: “I can read your mind; and let me tell you, it isn’t a novel.” “Not even a novella” I inquired? “More like a short story.” I saw no upside in going further with that conversation, so I changed the subject. We stayed last night in North Platte, Nebraska, and found some great barbeque ribs for dinner, and a terrific church this morning. It was called “Harvest Christian Fellowship.” The guitar player in the worship band was playing electric guitar; but during one quieter song, he hit a foot pedal and got a very convincing acoustic guitar sound to come out of his amplifier. I spoke to him afterwards and found out that it was an effect made by a company called “Boss.” It was actually one of several effects combined in a larger floor rack. So now I’m on the hunt to find out if that particular effect comes in a separate pedal. After church, we treated ourselves to a “Coldstone” ice cream sundae, (since it was right there on the same street as the church); and then got back on the road heading for Lincoln Nebraska, a distance of about 250 miles. We know there is a Cracker Barrel there, and they have their fried chicken special on Sunday nights. Driving all day gives you way too much time to think about what you are going to have for dinner. Without sunny desert trails to hike on, this is rapidly becoming the “pack on the pounds” tour of the Midwest.

Apr. 18 The shrimp did not disappoint. We found a place on Route 80 in West Wendover called The Rainbow Casino. I’ve never been inside a casino before, and have never seen any of the big places in Vegas. This is probably a tiny one compared to those, but it was still pretty big to a rube like me. I’m amazed at all the people just sitting there for hours pumping their money into the machines! After a walk-thru, and a quick listen to the live band, we headed for the buffet, which was quite extensive for $15 a piece. The place is open all night, so there is no problem parking in the lot. (They’re hoping that we will return for the lunch buffet tomorrow, and they may get their wish.) West Wendover is right at the eastern edge of Nevada, but Lorraine tells me that there appear to be more casinos in Utah. So for the next state at least, I’m all about the slots. Apr 21 Utah proved to be lacking in casinos, at least along the Route 80 path that we are taking. So I contented myself by looking for additional wives while we are here. Lorraine said she was fine with it, as long as they came with their own pensions. It turns out that I didn’t find any. I don’t know where they keep them. I guess you would have to ask a local, and we are mostly just driving these days; so I haven’t been meeting many. The weather has been too cool for us to want to spend much time out of the vehicle, so the plan has been just to eat up some of the miles that remain between us and NJ. At last count, there were over 2000 of them. Yesterday, and again today, we are passing through Wyoming, the last of the truly “western” states that we will see on this trip. As I said, we are just driving through on Route 80, so we really aren’t getting the chance to soak up much of the local color. From the highway, the impression is one of a lot of empty beauty. (Coincidentally, a description that was sometimes applied to me in my younger years.) The landscapes we are driving through look quite a bit like the southwest, but the wind and the lower temperatures make it a very different animal. We are missing New Mexico!

Apr. 17
I was just re-reading my last posting, (about it being better to remember things the way they were rather than sullying the memory by seeing them the way they are now); and I realized that it certainly is true of me. In other words, if you haven’t seen me for a number of years, it would not be recommended that you do so now. You have been warned.
But we push on. We stayed our last night in California yesterday in a town called Susanville, about 70 miles from the Nevada border. Tonight, we are at a state campground in Nevada called “Rye Patch State Recreation Area.” We have escaped California prices, both in campsites (only $14 here) and gas (we got it for under $4 per gallon today for the first time in a while.) This campsite is beautiful, and again, we are the only ones here. There are showers, and a dumpsite, so we are all set. We had our pick of spots of course, and we chose one overlooking a little river. With no company, it will not even be necessary to close the curtains, so we’ll wake up to a beautiful view of the water, with snow-capped mountains in the background.
This being Nevada, there are casinos all along the route, and I think perhaps tomorrow we may stop at one. I have never had any interest at all in gambling (famous last words); but I have heard about the buffets they put out at cheap prices to draw people in. I also believe that you can stay overnight in their parking lots if they are open 24 hours. So I plan to march right in, load up on the cheap food and free accommodations and pull out without dropping a dime at the roulette tables. Of course when we went to Garberville in Humbolt County in California, we were told that it was “the marijuana capital of the U.S.” Yet when we went to the Chamber of Commerce in Garberville, they didn’t so much as offer us a sample. So you can’t always believe the promises. Still, I’m hoping that my next entry will include a casino review that dwells heavily on the quality of the shrimp.

Apr. 14
Where to begin? We pulled into Garberville on Thursday and went first to the hospital where Lorraine had her daughter 42 years ago. It is incredibly small by NJ standards, and is now named after the Dr. who did the delivery. A couple of very nice nurses helped us as best they could, but none of the records from back then were on the premises. They would have all been transferred to microfiche or something long ago, and stored off site somewhere, probably at the county seat. They offered to let Lorraine see the room, but she couldn’t remember which one it was. They stopped doing deliveries there many years ago.
One of the nurses turned us on to a good place to stay, as there are no Wal-Marts at all in this area. A private RV park just outside of town provided all the amenities, and for $29 per night; so we were glad not to have to go back to the state park that had none. It even has wireless that I am calling “the intermittent.” We are still here as I write this on Saturday night, but when I go to post it, it will be hit or miss as to whether there will be any service. Still, some is better than none.
Our next inquiry was at the post office. Lorraine knew that the owner of the land she lived on back then had had a post office box in this town. No luck there, but the postal worker told us that we ought to go see a guy in town by the name of “Bear” Gratzel, because he was an old-timer, and lived up that way. He owned a sporting goods store in town. So we walked over and introduced ourselves, and he turned out to be just the guy we needed. He had come to live on the same property (Lorraine doesn’t like me to say “commune”) in 1974, and stayed there for a number of years. Lorraine had left suddenly with her daughter in 1972 to escape an abusive boyfriend (the father of her child.) So her path and Bear’s had never crossed. Many of the people that Lorraine knew were still there when Bear arrived however, and he was able to give her a great deal of information on what had become of everyone. Incredibly, he had a picture of Lorraine’s old boyfriend on the wall of his office, as he had known him quite well! Bear may have also prevented us getting shot as trespassers, since he informed us that the land had long ago been sold by Lorraine’s friend, and was now “Private Property – Keep Off.”
They had a great conversation, and about half-way into it, he inquired where Lorraine had gone to live the rest of her life. When she said “New Jersey,” he mentioned that he had been brought up in NJ. I asked him where? He said “Teaneck” (my home town.) I asked if he had graduated from Teaneck High School, and what year? “1966” he said, (my graduation year.) It turns out that he and I were high school classmates, even though we didn’t know each other! (It was a class of over 600 students, and I was definitely not the kind of kid that anyone would remember. He mentioned that he had been in a high school “fraternity” called “The Ashaks.” I remember them as being kind of intimidating jock types, and I kept a respectful distance.) But what are the odds that Lorraine has this connection with this guy, and then her husband and him turn out to be high school classmates?
So anyway, Bear had some family in town and was not free on Fri. and Sat. but said that if we could hang around till Sunday, he might have time to take us up to his property, which adjoins the land that the old commune was on. So we are hunkered down in Garberville, waiting on the Bear. I think I hear the espresso pot boiling.

Apr. 16
Well… Bear didn’t return our calls, and so on Sunday after church, we decided to push on, which meant turning east for the first time, toward home. The property that Lorraine had lived on not only was under new ownership; it also had no proper roads, and we felt that the RV could not navigate it without risk. So we got so close, but not quite there. After we had driven some distance, at about 4:30 PM, Bear called Lorraine back. But it was to say that his family business had taken longer than expected. By that time, it would have been too late to go on Sunday, and the next day was a workday for him. So I guess it was not to be. Maybe sometimes it is better to remember places as they were than to sully the memories by seeing them the way they are now.
We are now heading east across California, and stopped overnight last night at a national park campground near a town called Shasta. We are the only campers here, so we had our pick of sites, which are all, as they say, “primitive.” There is no electric, and a posted sign says that the water has not yet been turned on for the season. So we get a place to park and nothing else. But it was extremely quiet, and a bargain at the “old dude” half-price of $6 per night. (This being California, I’m a little surprised that they don’t actually use that terminology.)
Because we are alone here, Logan gets to go out of the vehicle without a leash on, which is very unusual on the trip. He is enjoying going and coming as he pleases, but we have to keep an eye on him as we are deep in the heart of Sasquatch country. Logan wouldn’t even be a proper meal, only a snack; and that would leave Bigfoot still hungry enough to come after Lorraine and I. But Logan is having a gay old time peeing and pooing wherever he wants in the woods. Now if I did that, Lorraine would not be pleased. Sometimes I think she holds me to a higher standard than she does that dog.

Apr. 11
Had an interesting experience last night. We drove north to a town called Ukiah which had a Wal-Mart, pulling in at about 7:30 at night. In the lot, there were signs saying “No Overnight Parking.” After inquiring inside, we were told that there was a town ordinance that prohibited it. Stopped at a gas station pondering our next move (probably look for a motel, since it was too late to want to drive on any further) I was approached by a man who asked about our RV, saying that he and his wife were thinking of buying one. As the conversation developed, he revealed that they were living in their car, and had been for some months! They told us of a church nearby that allows overnight parking in their lot. We went there, and found it to be quiet and safe. The other couple eventually showed up there later, and the two of us were the only ones in the lot. They were gone in the morning by the time we woke up. It got pretty cold overnight, in the forties, and you have to wonder how they keep warm, or sleep comfortably, as it is a sedan, not even a station wagon. They also had a large cat cage in the back seat (containing their cat) which would prevent the passenger side seat from reclining all the way. They told us they had been doing this since December (!), staying in motels once a week to shower. It sure makes me count my blessings, especially when I have to get up in the middle of the night to go to the bathroom. We gave them a little help, but if you think of it, say a prayer for Ron and Brigitte in Ukiah. They need more than a little.

Apr.12
Yesterday, we spent the day in Mendicino. We drove on Route 1 to get there, and part of it is right on the edge of the Pacific, which I was seeing for the first time ever. Part of the route took us through a redwood forest with winding roads and an overhanging canopy that let in so little light that it felt like we were in a rain forest. Lorraine says Mendicino has changed a lot since she last saw it. It is kind of a Woodstock by the sea. Unfortunately the weather was windy and cool, so we didn’t want to be outside as much as we would have wanted to if it were sunny.
When it started to get late, we headed for a state campground that provided a safe place to park, but little else for $33. California campgrounds are considerably more expensive than those in any other state we have experienced so far. In Arizona they averaged about $25, and in New Mexico, about $15. (Now you know why I like New Mexico so much.) The one last night not only did not have electricity, but there was no dumpsite. And the showers, which have always been included in the price of admission, were coin operated! All that, and no ranger on duty at all. It was late when we pulled in, and you self-pay at a kiosk. But I would have expected the ranger to be there in the morning. Maybe they just come by once a week to collect the fees. Wish I’d known that before I paid!

Apr. 8
Lorraine and I were both quite taken with the little town of Joshua Tree, which is right outside the national park of the same name. As is our wont, we picked up some of the local real estate brochures, and were so intrigued with one particular listing that we had to go see it while we were there. It bordered on the BLM land that we camped on last night. After a somewhat harrowing (to me) bumpy ride over dirt roads, we came to this oasis on 2 and a half acres. It had some pretty fair-size trees for the desert providing nice shade, and there were 3 buildings on the fenced-in property. It was up on a bit of an elevation, and the main house had a great view of the valley below, as well as being surrounded by mountains on all sides. A guest house and a little artist’s studio were part of the property too. The views were spectacular, and the privacy just right. (There were neighbors within eyesight, but not so close that you felt they were on top of you.) It seemed like just the kind of thing we imagine when we think about a home in the west. The price was $199K. Lorraine looked on her Android and found that the current owners had bought it about 4 years ago for $300K. We’re not ready to make a move right now, but we were both really taken with it, and would have done more investigation if the timing had been right for us.

Apr. 9
Our next destination is a journey home of sorts. About 40 years ago, long before I knew her, Lorraine lived for 2 years on sort of a commune in northern California. It was there (actually in the hospital in the nearest town) that her daughter Sheva was born. Many times over the years she has told me that she would love to go back there and show me the place. Of course, she has no idea if any of the people from back then are still there; or even if the land is still the rural area it once was. For all she knows, it could be a shopping mall by now. But “Google Earth” seems to show it still as open country, as near as she can pinpoint it. Anyway, we have decided that we may never be closer than we now are, and so we are going to attempt to find it. The closest town is Garberville, and it is about 800 miles north of Joshua Tree. So “close’ is a relative term (especially at $4.20 or so per gallon.) But we are determined to see what there is to see. It is north of San Francisco, and near the coast.
We stopped overnight last night in Bakersfield, which is known as “Nashville West”. An alternative country music scene developed there in the 1960’s (epitomized by Buck Owens) featuring a leaner, harder-edged sound with less orchestration. This is before country more or less merged with rock+roll, and is actually the beginning of that trend. Bakersfield musicians certainly influenced the whole country-rock sound of the Eagles,
Buffalo Spingfield, Poco, etc. in the 70’s. We had a steak dinner in “The Original Roadhouse” (which would be a tough claim to validate, since it was a chain) and the music playing was a lot of Merle Haggard and such, so I think they are still proud of that heritage. The muzak playing in the Wal-Mart however had no less orchestration than in any other Wal-Mart, so I don’t think they got the memo.

Apr. 3
Finally left the BLM after attending church Sunday morning at “The Christian Service Center.” Bordering the BLM land is a piece of private property that is owned by a pastor who built a church there, and has been having services for the folks camping in the BLM for the last 40 years. The pastor is elderly now, and has turned over the preaching to someone else, a guy they called “Preacherman Carl”. There were just a handful of people there, as most everyone has left for the summer. The “preacherman” gave a good sermon, filled with cowboy colloquialisms, and the people were real nice and encouraged us to return next winter when the church is full. They said that from Oct. to March, they have a group of about 60 people who attend each week.
After church we went back “on the grid” to Yuma to get some another shot of that incredible machaca. Our travels then took us to another BLM in Holtville, California. We had been told that this place had hot springs, and it didn’t disappoint. Camping overnight there, we couldn’t understand why we were getting a bunch of mosquitoes in the coach, until I discovered that I had left the passenger side window open. There is a curtain that we pull over the windshield, so I couldn’t see that it was left open. I put the keys in the ignition to roll up the window, which ended the mosquito problem, but caused another one. Since I left them in the ignition, and not in the fully “off” position, we woke the next morning to find that the car battery was dead. Luckily for me, there was a “camp host” at the site who had one of those portable battery chargers that he loaned me. I was able to walk it over to where we were parked (about a half a mile away) and connect the terminals to my battery to get us started. I was really fortunate because I don’t think Triple A would have come out into the desert to rescue us without considerable money changing hands.

Apr. 4
We headed north today from El Centro, where we spent last night at a very nice Wal-Mart lot – well lit, other RV’s nearby, far enough from the street that there wasn’t much traffic noise. It occurs to me that when you read that, it may conjure squalid visions of camping in a tent in the parking lot, with laundry hanging on the tent poles. Actually, when we close the shades and curtains, it feels very self-contained, and we become almost unaware of the outside surroundings. We cook dinner, and afterwards, relax with a DVD movie that we have rented from the “Redbox” kiosk, and drift off into dreamland. I know, I know, it’s not for everyone, but Lorraine and I are just fine with it.
Our destination today was “The Salton Sea”, a place that we had seen a TV documentary about when we were back home. It seems that it was envisioned as a resort community back in the 50’s, but never really got off the ground for a number of reasons. We have stopped at an RV park with hookups, which is good since it was about 95 today, so this allows us to use our air conditioner all night to keep comfortable. The Sea itself is pretty much as we had expected based on our research. It is heavily over-salinated, and thoroughly un-appetizing. The gunk along the shoreline prevents any thought of going in, and we are careful not to let Logan anywhere near it. It is a pretty sundown however, with the mountains in the distance on the other side of the “sea”. Driving in, we saw a sign proclaiming the “Sonny Bono Salton Sea N.W. B.” Not sure what NWB stand for, probably National Wildlife something or other; but yes, it is that Sonny Bono. Remember that the second act of his life was as a Congressman from California.
Incredible coincidence department: when we pulled into this RV park, the woman who runs it noticed our Jersey plates and asked us where we were from, as she had lived in Jersey. I said “up north, in Bergen County.” She said she knew Bergen well, as she had lived for many years in… (wait for it) … Park Ridge! (our town) So a conversation of “Do you know…?” ensued for a while, and then we were given the run of the place. There is a pool here, but she apologized and said she hadn’t cleaned it for a little while. I think she may do so in the morning, since we had expressed interest in it. If she doesn’t, I don’t think we will use it, as it looks a little too much like the Salton Sea right now; but the price to camp here is only $16 for the night, and I expect that we will use at least that much in electricity.

Apr. 6
Well the pool never got cleaned, and we pulled out the next morning. So much for showing the love to the homies from the old hood. Just a little further down the road there was a “dry” state campsite right on the edge of the Salton Sea, for $8 (senior rate). We stopped to look and take a few pictures, but it was too early in the day to stay the night there, no matter how good the price was. As I walked to the shoreline, I realized that what I thought was the sand I was walking on was really crushed fishbones! Believe me, that is just as unappetizing as it sounds. They crunch underfoot as you walk! Some of the skeletons have de-composed to the point of almost powder, but others haven’t yet. So you see fish skeletons in various states of decomposition all around you as you walk. Logan kept wanting to pick up fish heads, so I eventually had to take him back to the car. Anyway, the long and short of it is: avoid the Salton Sea.
The next destination however was an entirely different story. The Joshua Tree National Park is an incredible revelation, not to be missed. It is huge, with great hiking through all types of desert terrain. We arrived yesterday afternoon in time to go on a walkabout up into some beautiful mountains with great views of the valley below. Since it is a national park, my old man discount cuts the $15 camping fee in half. There is no electricity at any of the sites, but water and dumpsites are available. We planned to stay for a while, but overnight, the temperature went down to 37 degrees with very high winds. We woke this morning to sweatshirt and jacket weather (after being in shorts and tee shirts yesterday.) It was still sunny however, so we traveled through the park (about 70 miles) stopping to see some of the sights, and getting out for an extended hike at one place that took us through a lot of spectacular stands of Joshua Trees and other desert flora. Dogs are not allowed on the park trails, which is a shame since today’s hike was mostly flat and would not have tired Logan out too much. One of the campsites was that we drove through today was called “White Tanks”; and we would have loved to have stayed there, but it was full up. At the ranger station yesterday, we were told that Easter weekend is one of the busiest of the year. The campsites at this place all backed up against these huge light-colored (not really white) boulders. It felt like being in a rock village, very different from most of the campsites we have been in. (Think: Bedrock.) If we ever get back here, this would be the campsite to stay in.

Apr. 7
After we exited the Joshua Tree National Park, we proceeded to a BLM that the park rangers told us about. They gave us a map to it, without which we would never have found it. It is really out in the middle of nowhere. There are others out here spending the night (or perhaps, their lives), but no one is anywhere near us, since it is a vast open space in the desert. There is no artificial light for miles around, so the stars are spectacular. It reminds me of that line from the Eagles song: “And I want to sleep with you in the desert tonight, with a million stars all around.” (To which Lorraine replied: “Go to sleep.”)

Mar. 27
First things first: the Spanish beef pie that I described in my last entry is called “machaca”. I was remembering it wrong, and when I went back the next day to get another one for the road, I noted the correct name. And it isn’t a meat pie really. It is shredded beef wrapped in a flour tortilla; but this place has tortillas unlike any I have had before. They taste more like a pastry crust to me than most tortillas do. Really tasty, and reason enough to go to Yuma. Beyond that however, we liked Yuma a lot. It is a bigger city than some of the little towns we have been going through, but it doesn’t take long to get to the outskirts where you find the inexpensive little adobe houses with the great mountain views. And the fact that it is so close to the desert BLM’s is a great bonus.
The Bureau of Land Management land is federally owned “badlands” that allow “dry’ camping, often for free. “Dry” generally means that there is nothing there – no water, electricity, bathrooms, showers, nothing. So you can go there with your RV, but you can’t replenish anything when you run out.
As I write this, I am sitting in the BLM in Yuma that we went looking for. We found it, and it is even better than we expected. Some folks we met on the road 3 years ago told us about the place, and we have wanted to check it out ever since. It is terrific, if you are looking for an “off the grid’ experience, which we were. This particular one is not exactly “dry”. There is a small fee, for which you get water (not at your site – there are no sites) a bathroom with an outside shower (cold), and a dumpsite. There is no electric here at all, so everyone is powered by propane and deep cell batteries. The fee is $40 for 14 days, and as it is a federal facility, our “Golden Age” pass means we only have to pay half that! So you can’t beat the price.
The bonus that we weren’t expecting is that there is a reservoir here that we can swim in! (The reservoir is for irrigation, not drinking water.) This is the first BLM that we have encountered with a place to swim. We spent today down at the water with a few other people, mostly from Canada, some of whom had been here since October. The water was bracing, but very clean and inviting. A welcome relief from the 80 degree sun. Logan had a great time repeatedly fetching a ball that I threw into the water for him. We asked some of the folks what it was like here in January, and they said it was about 65 degrees. Not swimming weather, but great for hiking, which there is plenty of here. So we sat in our lawn chairs and went swimming at the beach. In March! I don’t expect we will stay the full 14 days, but for now, it is nice being off the road and just relaxing. Of course we do have to cook every meal here, as there is no going out to dinner, or grabbing a sandwich anywhere.

Mar 28
Last night, as we were making our dinner, we heard a funny sound, and looked down to the water below us and saw… a group of burros! It seems there are wild burros that live on this land, and they go to the water to get a drink. We didn’t see any more of them during the day when people are out by the lake, but at night we can hear them braying. Logan thinks they might be javelinas in disguise, as they have long been his nemesis. He is convinced that they pursue him from region to region of the country, assuming different shapes to suit the terrain. He has a very active fantasy life.

Mar. 29
No idea when I will be able to post this. There is no wireless internet service here at all. Lorraine isn’t even getting the 3G on her phone with any regularity. Today we traveled about 20 miles to the “Imperial Painted Desert” to go for a hike. We passed a small herd of burros while we were still in the vehicle, and they were curious enough to have stuck their heads in the window if we had given them a chance. The rangers said that they can bite and kick, so we politely declined their advances. The hike was great. We traveled through secluded canyons with not another soul in sight. It was only about a mile and a half; but Logan is beginning to show his age, and he struggled a bit. He was panting for most of the hike, and when we got back to the RV, he seemed out of sorts, and eventually threw up (in the rig). I think he had heat prostration. It was 95 according to the thermometer that we have on the vehicle, but it certainly didn’t feel like 95 does in NJ. I guess there is something to the “dry heat” concept, because I certainly wasn’t uncomfortable out there. And even if I had been, I would have had the good breeding not to throw up in the RV!

Mar. 30
Many of the people who have been here since Oct. are leaving, so the place is de-populating by the day. There are a lot of folks here who pay $180 to stay for 6 months, and they have to be out by Apr. 15. Actually, you don’t have to leave then, but the fee to stay goes to $40 for each additional 14 days, and you can only stay for 14 days at a time. You would then have to go to another location, pay the $40 there, and then you could come back to the original site and pay another $40 for the next 2 weeks. A lot more complicated than just paying the $180 for the winter and staying put. So most people leave by Apr. 15.
An inordinate number of these snowbirds seem to be from Canada. I guess the snow will be melted there by the time that they drive back. And true to the stereotype, they are unfailingly charming and polite. I’m confident that when we invade them, the occupation will go smoothly.

Mar. 31
Today we moved to another part of the BLM (which is huge) and this area has HOT SHOWERS! They are coin operated, 5 minutes for 4 quarters; so there is no time to ponder which conditioner will make my hair shinier. You pretty much have to have all the decisions made before you drop the quarters in. It felt great though after hiking in the 90 degree temperatures.
We have been here since last Monday, and there is absolutely zero opportunity to spend money. Quite a change, since when we are traveling, it is often $100 or so per day on gas, plus whatever we spend on lunch and/or dinner; to say nothing of provisions bought in Wal-Mart if we happen to be spending the night there. If we stay here until the first of the month when my check comes in, we just might be able to pay the credit card bill for the last month.
I am struck by how cheaply one could live in a situation like this if one really had to. Of course there are people here in the big RV’s that might as well be houses; but I see quite a few people who I would guess are subsisting on a Social Security check alone. The guy next to us where we parked for a couple of days was living in, and out of a VW van; and I would guess that all his worldly possessions were in it. As I said, the rent is only $180 for 6 months here. A trip into Yuma (25 miles away) every so often for food, which he cooks outdoors over his camp stove is probably the only other major expense he has. He is parked near the bathroom, and water is freely available. Not the most stimulating environment one could wish, but he seems to spend most of his days sitting in a lawn chair outside his vehicle, reading. For some people, I guess that is enough.