Author: donhall930

The nice lady looked up from our papers, smiled, and said ,

          ”Vota Registration….  now y’all jes go down the hall to the Eeelection Board and see Emma, she’ll take good care of ya “……

          She paused for a moment then continued,

           “Oh ma Heavens! They’re all jammed up ‘cause early votin’s  starten today! Y’all never get near the place! Y’all have ta come back after the eeelections are ova.”

          I haven’t applied for a driver license in 48 years so I guess I don’t have a lot of experience in this regard.

          That was in New Jersey.

          This is Texas.

          At the risk of offending my new neighbors I will confess that I just do not get their system.

Let me explain,

          Apparently, you need to register a vehicle in Texas before you can apply for a Drivers License. What if you don’t have a vehicle?

          Are you not allowed to have a license?

          We figured that we would apply to transfer our licenses and title the motorhome at the same time.

          Nope.

          License plates are handled by the County Tax Offices and Driver Licenses are dispatched from the Texas Division of Public Safety.

          Not even closely related.

          Down we went to the County Tax Office and tried to register the motorhome and get a Texas Title. We were told that we need to prove residency. You know, mail at your address, utility bills, leases, or some other land ownership papers. This is all well and good, but we hadn’t received any forwarded mail yet, nor are we leasing anything or have any utility bills!

          So, we thanked the nice lady in the Tax Office and tucked our papers back into our little folder, walked down the hallway, (past Emma and her long line) and back outside the Courthouse.

          Pausing out on the street and staring at the end of the very long “early voting” line we realized that all of the official stuff that we needed to do would have to be postponed.

          But who cares?

          No one!

          It’s Covid Time!

          Extensions are handed out like tissues in kindergarten after recess on a chilly day.

          So we didn’t worry (or “fret none” in the local parlance). We proceeded with our plans and went out the next day in search of what would eventually end up as is our Honda CRV. When we bought the Honda, the salesman, Javier, (you remember him) told us that the Dealership handles all of the titling aspects of the deal, we practically jumped for joy! Maybe we could “back” our way into a registration! If all we need was a registration to get our license, then we were golden!

          Not so fast there Pecos Pete!

          What we did not know was that it would take 4 weeks for this to transpire and in the meantime, they lost our ”tags” (license plates are called tags down south) and registration. We decided to push on and since Eeelection Day had passed we decided to go and give Emma a visit.

          Nice ol’ lady bless her heart. She handed us a form each to fill out. Name, address, and the last 4 digits of our Social Security numbers.

          That’s it?

          No proof of where we live?

          No credit card bills, leases, or utility bills?

          A note from our parents?

          Nothing???

          Nope.

          She just handed us our new Voter Registration Cards which proved that we were residents of these here parts.

          So we did what any self-respectin’, varmint kickin’ new resident would do.

          We went down the hall to the nice lady in the Tax Office and armed with our new Official Pieces of Paper, registered our motor home in the Great State of Texas!

I am not sure that the place that we call home in Texas has a name so I will need to come up with one.

          It has critters, so Farm will be in the name. It is in Brenham, Texas and its address is Aspen Circle, both nice sounding but nothing special. I could use the ever-present Texas monikers, such as: Bluebell, Yellow Rose, or Lone Star, but I am fairly sure that those have been claimed already.

          The one thing that those other places do not have is Madison. Madison (or Maddie) is the four-year-old granddaughter of Paula, daughter of the proprietors, Danny (Paula’s son) and Kaitie (whose full name is Caitlin but prefers Kaitie with a K). Madison’s parents own the place, but it is Maddie who runs it, so let us go with,

Madison Farm and Trampoline Park

          This is one of our three bases of operation, the others being Tomboy Farm in Durango, Colorado (you have already met them) and of course Sussex County, New Jersey. We have a genuinely nice “pad” (in RV terms) or defined space for us here. It is right next to the corral which, at the moment, has two pregnant goats in it. The goat population is destined to explode soon as these ladies are scheduled to drop at least two kids each.

           We shall see.

          Bailey, the canine member of the family, patrols her perimeters with a definite purpose, (she has dispatched more than her share of coyotes, scorpions, snakes, and the like) yet is one of the most easy-going dogs that I have ever met. There were chickens and a horse here, their stories will be told a little later.

          Danny and Kaitie are Ex-Marines. Let me expand on that for a moment and correct myself. The proper term is actually former Marine, not ex-Marine. When I read this post to Danny and Kaitie before I published it, they corrected me on that issue. It seems that you are never an Ex-Marine. Once you are a Marine, you are always a Marine.

          I like that.

          I find it interesting that it seems that no one except the Marines are habitually described as  former or “ex-“. This is not in any way to be construed as anything negative about any of our other fine military branches. It is just something that I have picked up on over the years. It would seem that it, in itself, is a fine tribute to the Corps.

           In the case here in Texas, the service of both Danny and Kaitie proudly comes shining through. Kaitie had a tour in Iraq and Danny had a total of four tours, two in Afghanistan and two in Iraq. They obviously met in the Service, it was in San Diego at Camp Pendleton.

          There is not much that can faze these two.

          Texas is a good State to settle in for Veterans. There are a multitude of advantages for Military Service Members here including something as innocuous as a reduced fee for auto registration and driver’s licenses. It is not that they get a reduced rate, it is that the difference of what they pay, and the full rate is funded by  voluntary donations from their fellow Texans.

          Kind of nice, isn’t it?

          A few years ago, Danny ran for their State Assembly. The field was crowded and at this point he was probably considered an outsider, but his showings at the polls indicated otherwise. The other candidates genuinely liked him and even courted him a bit for alliances as the process continued. He has stayed active in the local politics with the idea of re-surfacing sometime in the future.    

          In the meantime, Danny and Kaitie work on the “Pipeline.” The pipeline is generic term used for any number of projects that are ongoing in the Midwest. They can be in Kansas, Iowa, Minnesota, (you get the idea) but not Alaska! Sometimes they are close together, sometimes they are extremely far apart. But the opportunity to stash some cash while Madison was not in school yet was definitely tempting. Even when Maddie goes to school, one of them will still probably take a turn or two on the line. Danny is an electrical inspector, while Kaitie is a welding inspector, those are their specialties. In reality, they both are Code Inspectors and have wide-ranging oversights on the projects that they are assigned to.

          Someone has to make sure that the work is done correctly!

           They work about seven months out of the year and spend the rest (winter) down here in the moderate weather of mid-Texas working on improving Madison Farm and Trampoline Park.

          Over the years, the improvements have been substantial, not that the place needed a ton of work mind you. The house is a 1940’s farmhouse that is solidly constructed of oak, which there is a plethora of around here.  Updated bathroom, appliances, some really nice wooden siding work along with new wall insulation, are just a few of the projects. A barn was added, Danny cleared the land for a corral, dug all the holes and erected the posts for a dandy white fence that surrounds it all.

Anyone whose has lived on a farm will tell you that the chores and up-keep are never ending. Danny has done 95% of the work himself, only hiring a contractor when absolutely necessary. Kaitie is the Animal Husbandry side of the team. Kaitie grew up in Cheyenne, Wyoming probably the most Cowboy (Girl) friendly town in the West. Witness the annual Frontier Days that are a prerequisite if you are any kind of a rider. Kaitie was involved with this, she ran Barrels, Keyhole, and other riding events on her horse, Princess. Princess and Kaitie had each other for company for about 17 years. Sadly, Princess went to that Big Rodeo in the Sky just this past year. But soon there will be some more four-legged animals in the corral because arrangements have been made for two small horses (a mom and her daughter) to come live here. Can Maddie’s riding lessons be far behind? There were some chickens here at one time, but Chicken Hawks, racoons, and other varmints took their turns at ravaging the flock. And besides, they require daily care and when Danny and Kaitie are on the pipeline that is impossible. While Danny and Kaitie are up there, the goats get to go to a Goat Resort (a friend’s farm) where they must have had a good time because they are now expecting their twins.

          Maddie is as effervescent as any four-year-old could be. She goes to Dance, MMA, and Cheering which are all located (thankfully) in the same building as her pre-school which she attends at least two days a week. The trampoline in their back yard provides endless hours of entertainment for her. Unfortunately, Maddie really likes it when someone else (but there are only adults living around here) is in there with her. So far, I have escaped being asked to go jumping around with her in the trampoline.

          As I write this Danny is prepping for some more sidewalk work that will connect the various areas of the farm (and it is headed in this direction!) This helps tremendously with keeping mud, etc. out of the house. I told him that a nice, RV sized, concrete pad with a fire pit would be a great addition over here.

He agreed.

          I wonder…..

Alright children, time to pay attention.

          Today’s lesson is on Dingy Towing, Tow Bar Use and Installation, and the ever-popular Failed Tire Scenario.

          OK, calm down, try not to show too much enthusiasm, I know how much you have waited for this mind-gripping topic to show up!

          So here we go!

          Pay attention, there will be a quiz to follow.

           Yesterday we brought the Honda (which you may remember from the Javier post) up to Texas Custom Trucks to have the tow plate attached to the front of it. This will allow us to hook up the tow bars and related equipment to the rear of the motorhome.

          While in some ways this will be going backwards as in, we will now have to tow something else (after dropping the storage trailer in Colorado). We last left our intrepid towing experience in the Four-Corners Region. It has been nice to just drive around without worrying about anything dragging along behind us.

          But (there is always a but) we are confined to where this Big Baby can go and fit. The general idea is to drive to an area, find a nice RV Park, get a site, and then explore the region without dragging Gigundo around everywhere. We would just use her as a Base of Operations until it is time to move on to the next adventure. An example of this may be the Central Valley of California (basically the greater Fresno area)  where you can park the motorhome and venture into Sequoia National Park, Kings Canyon National Park (adjacent to Sequoia) , and Yosemite National Park. Large RV’s are banned from many of the back roads of these parks so getting to the good spots would be difficult if all we had to drive is our Big-Box-On-Wheels.

          Back to today’s lesson.

           Mr. Tow Bar and his Friends consist of several components that are more safety related than anything else. The tow bar must be D.O.T. approved, and is weight restricted. The Tow Plate is made custom to each vehicle make and model because the front bumper needs to be removed and some minor chassis work performed before it can fit correctly. The tow bar also has a wiring harness that not only operates the turn signals and lights, but it also keeps the battery charged while the dinghy is being towed. We will also have an auxiliary braking system that is about as simplistic as it gets but is an engineering marvel in its operation. The system is basically a box that sits on the floor in front of the driver’s seat and has a little arm that comes out of it (somewhat like the one that R2D2 has on him). That arm gets attached to the brake pedal and when this unit senses a decrease in speed (it is inertia activated) it presses on the brake pedal! The more inertia it senses, the more it presses down on the pedal!

          The system also has an option for sensing the air pressure in our tires. This is especially important on the dingy because by the time one may notice that there is an issue, it may be too late to avoid some serious damage. Remember, its just a little car being dragged by what is essentially a big bus. There are also enough tire “slots” available on this monitoring system to accommodate the six tires on the motorhome. There are any number of tire monitoring systems out there for motorhomes and their trailers, etc.  They are similar to what comes on many cars nowadays, but these independent systems actually notify you which tire may be having difficulties. A tire failure on a motorhome is not a pretty sight! The tires on ours are supposed to have 110 lbs. of pressure in them and I check them regularly after seeing photos of RV Carnage on the side of the road because of a tire failure. Interestingly, most tires on RV’s age out before they wear out. Ultra-violet rays, and the like, sap the essential components out of the rubber on the tires. This leads to what is called “dry-rot” and is the bane of any tire’s existence. All tires are not created equal and the manufacturing process and quality of the raw materials comes shining through when the recommended “age-out” data is analyzed.

           Let us use our motorhome as an example. When we acquired this baby, it had approximately 15,000 miles on the odometer.

           This is nothing in the wear department.

          But they were 6 years old!

          This is everything in the age department.

          There are many brands out there that age-out in about 5 years. Luckily for us these are a nice set of Michelins separating us from the road. These Michelins are rated up to 10 years before needing to be replaced because if age. So even if they cost a little more you can see how much more economical (and wise ?) it is to equip an RV with quality tires. This issue rarely gets noticed on your family car because, in most cases, you wear out your tires well before they age out.

          To add insult to injury, the use of most “Tire-Blackening” products actually hastens the demise of the tires that they are used on by speeding up that ageing process. This is because the chemicals used to make the tire look nice actually dry it out even sooner!

          What a bummer!

          I like a clean vehicle

          What is the sense of a nice, bright, shiny RV if the tires look like they just competed in the Baja 1000?

          Back to the Research Lab!

          The only product that I have used so far is one by Maguire’s. It was given to me by Don, our next-door neighbor, who is a truck driver and obviously knows a lot about maintenance. I will continue my quest for the Ultimate Safe Tire Dressing and report back to you at a later date.

          After reading and understanding this little lesson, you now know why when you see a parked RV, there is a good chance that it will have Tire Covers to help shield them from the Sun.

          Today we pick up the Honda from Texas Custom Trucks. We are driving the motorhome up there so that we can get a lesson on how to properly attach it to the Tow Bar, etc. Our timing could not be better because it is time to dump our Holding Tanks which obviously requires extricating ourselves from our parking spot and pulling into the local RV Park and using their Dump Station (for a fee of course).

          A photo of our Complete Rig will be published as soon as we get Honda and Winnebago married to each other. No gifts please.

          Alright, Are you ready for the Quiz?

          Please take out a piece of paper and your #2 pencils, no cheating, I can see all of you because you forgot to put a piece of tape over the camera eye of your laptops!

1. In the beginning of the lesson I talked about “going backwards”. Is this related to:
   1. Backing up without a back-up camera
   2. Backing up and running over the neighbor’s lawn ornament
   3. Backing down in an argument with Paula
   4. None of the above
2. The Tow Bar is used to:
   • Keep your toes aligned in your shoes
   • Get you out of a sticky situation down at Mulligan’s Bar
   • Give you a quick pick-up when consumed as a energy bar
   • None of the above
3. The Founding Fathers left “Tires” out of the “Created Equal” phrase Declaration of Independence because:
   • They thought that “tires” implied that they were getting weary
   • They did not like those “new-fangled” rubber things, wood worked “just fine”
   • King George III invented the rubber tire and they hated King George.
   • None of the above

• “Tire Dressing” refers to:
  • The act of selecting the proper garment for the tire’s social schedule
  • A tasty blend of just the right herbs and spices that complement any tire salad
  • The act of yelling at your tires when they misbehave and wreak havoc on your trip.
  • None of the above

Please pass your paper’s to the person in front of you and I will collect them at the front of the room. You will get the results after I get out of Mulligan’s Bar.

If California is a State of Mind

Then

Texas is a State of Being.

          There are other States that started out as independent countries: Vermont, Hawaii, Oregon, and several other entities, most of  them relatively short-lived, but by far the most famous and successful as an independent country is Texas. Texas, as a republic, was in existence for about twelve years in the mid 1800’s. California’s flag has the words California Republic emblazoned on it but, in reality, the “Bear Flag Revolt” lasted only 25 days in 1846. I’ve seen (more than once) the Texas flag flown here all by itself. No American flag above it. Nothing disrespectful mind you. Texas is as patriotic as any state, just a tad more “independent” as it were.

          So, why you are probably asking yourself, is he giving us a stupid history lesson on Texas and random Statehoods?

          I can answer that my friends.

          It is because of a Gas Station.

          Not just any relatively ubiquitous, monotonous, stale breakfast sandwich, and dirty restroom convenience store gas station. I am talking about the Holy Grail of this genre,

Buc-ees

          It seems to me that after visiting one of this Company’s wonderful entities, that the reason that they exist is because of Texas.

          Big.

          No, that does not do it justice.

          How about Massive?

          Now we’re getting somewhere.

          The phrase “Big as Texas” is not just a local slogan. It is a mentality that seems pervasive down here. By rights, this State is big! It can take days to get across it. Alaska is larger but no one lives there. California is long, but no one remembers that they live there.

           The Buc-ees mascot/logo guy is a caricature of a beaver (with buck-teeth) that looks like he could be a relative of Rocky the Flying Squirrel from Rocky and Bullwinkle. His face is on everything that you could possibly market and it is all done with great success.

          A Buc-ees  would probably do well in other states also, but its genesis probably could have only been in Texas.

          Let us start with the obvious.

          Gas Pumps .

          Back East we have Quick Check, Wawa, 7-11, Sheetz, Raceway, Exxon, and a host of other national chains that have enough pumps at them that you can feel comfortable enough to leave your car there and go inside for a purchase or two.

          Buc-ees has over 70 pumps.

          You could park there all day and probably no one would notice!

          Bathrooms.

          Some of these establishments do a better job than others in this department. But, it’s a crapshoot, sometimes good, sometimes (well you know what the other side is here).

          Are they “one-holers”?

          Is there a line?

          Are they even clean?

          Squeaky-Clean?

          Buc-ees has 35 urinals in the Men’s Room separated by walls. I know this because I counted them.

          How about stalls?

          No flimsy partitions here.

          Solid masonry walls with doors separates you from your neighbor. This is also the configuration in the Ladies Room. I do not know this as an eyewitness fact, but I do have it from reliable sources. No waiting here ladies, there are just as many “sites” in your room as is the Men’s Room, all with the same solid construction.

          Clean?

          You bet!

          Crazy clean!

          Now let us step out into the Retail and Food Area.

          You can do your Christmas Shopping here and get a delicious, home cooked, truly Texas-Chef Inspired meal. I had a pulled-pork sandwich (because I always have that wherever I go) and it was as good as any roadside, authentic, Big Bubba’s BBQ places that I’ve been to.

          Prices.

          More than fair, especially when you get all these other extras at no charge. Get a load of the drink prices in the photo! Everything else is competitively priced, and the fuel prices are the starting point. I even bought the DEF Fluid (used in diesel powered motors) for about half of what I was paying elsewhere.

          And get this,

          NO TRACTOR TRAILERS ARE ALLOWED!

          Just cars and RV units

          Not there is anything wrong with 18-wheelers, it is just that they have their own truck stops. This is like a truck stop for cars, lets call it a Car Stop!

          Would you like a giant Fire-Pit?

          How about a large BBQ or Smoker?

          Yep! Got them too! Texas Sized!

          Hopefully, I have painted enough of a picture for you to see how this business is Texas born and bred. As crazy as this seems, a stop at Buc-ees is a must when you visit here and apparently the go-to place for the local population also.

          Can you imagine having visiting relatives over and saying to them, “I’m going to bring you to Quick Check! Wait ‘til you see this!”

          Nope.

          Cannot even imagine that.

After Tombstone, Paula decided to have a go at driving again. She began after we went through the Border Patrol Checkpoint on Arizona 80 and then continued up and onto the infamous and aforementioned dreaded Interstate 10.

Thankfully we had a tailwind and not a crosswind!

She drove for about two hours and I was able to take a break and enjoy the drive from the Co-pilot’s seat and take a few pics.

It began like this:

          Amy greeted us at the entrance to the Good Enough Silver Mine in Tombstone, Arizona. We were not supposed to be here. The weather report for Monday was rain, so we figured that our stop here on the way back to Texas would probably not happen. But after waking up to a gorgeous sunrise at the Winery, we decided to give it a go.

          Tombstone is a real town, with real people, and a real past.

          Wyatt Earp, Doc Holliday, Lily Langtree and a slew of other Western Personalities dot its colorful past. You know, the kind of stuff that’s better than fiction, the kind of stuff that you just can’t make up. Over the years the town has come to realize that its calling card was its past. And therefore, they decided to keep everything that they could as original as possible, throw a little “Hollywood” into the mix and come up with what is a place to spend a very enjoyable day. The shops are all there, some rather authentic and some necessary to keep everyone satisfied. There is the quintessential Gunfight at the O.K. Corral re-enactment and a stagecoach that will take you up and down the (closed to traffic) main street with a definitely realistic driver as your tour guide, complete with  a western drawl. Everyone is as cordial as you would expect in an old western town.

          Tombstone is there because of the silver. It is an old mining town that has dozens of mines with hundreds of miles of shafts, drifts, air shafts, and the all-important original cribbing to hold it all in place.

          It is real.

          So, we went on a tour.

          And we met Amy.

           Amy introduced herself and as a way of getting some cohesiveness to the group and acting as an ice breaker among strangers she asked where we were all from.

          Two guys  – “West Virginia”

          Amy – “What’cha do? Make a wrong turn?”

          Laughter

          Lady 1– “Just over in Tuscon.”

          Lady 2 (her friend)-  “Pennsylvania”

          Amy – “Which part, I grew up in the eastern part.”

          Lady – “Out by Pittsburg”

          Amy – “Oh, I was over by Phillipsburg.”

          Amy looked over at us and I said, “Originally New Jersey but we’re           doin’ this full-time RV thing now.”

          “Where in Jersey?”

          “Upper northwest corner, Sussex County.”

          Eyes widened, “My family is from up that way, near the Delaware River. They’re the Lenningtons.

          “Lenningtons! I know the Lenningtons! Up by Layton and       Walpack!

          “Yup! My dad is George, and my grandfather is Charlie.”

          “Grandpa Lennington??!! I knew him! Not real personal but I          knew who he was!

Well, as you can imagine, it felt like “old time week.” After a little more Hometown Conversation, Amy started her excellent tour. You could tell that she really likes being a tour guide and sharing her knowledge on us top-siders who don’t have clue on what it is like to work underground in that tough a job. The tour lasted 45 minutes and Amy did not stop talking the entire time. There was that much information to impart on her entourage. Mixing just enough humor and the right amount of facts, Amy left us in awe of what those men had accomplished over a hundred years ago.

          When the Tour was over, we re-started our familial conversation and took photos together. Amy could not wait to get home and tell her Dad (who was out here living with her) about the folks from Layton.

          One of the tiniest towns in all of New Jersey.

          A random Mine Tour in Tombstone, Arizona.

          I continue to be amazed at the serendipitous nature of our existence on this planet.

                My sister Kathy and her husband Denny got us a year’s membership in an organization called Harvest Homes.

          Basically, what this enables you to do is find a winery, brewery, or farm that allows you to overnight on their property. You need to be entirely self-contained, they do not provide any utility type hook-ups, but what they do provide is an awesome alternative to the sometimes not-so-good Walmart Parking Lot Experience. This can obviously be a win-win for everyone. You would be a fool not to patronize the establishment and purchase some wine, beer, spirits, fresh produce, or whatever they have to offer in exchange for the overnight stay. You may even make a friend or two! In our case (because when you are standing at the bar doing a wine tasting) the subject of “where’re ya from?” inevitably comes up which leads to the “Full-Time Story” telling which has everyone mesmerized and saying things like, “Yea, me and the old man have wanted to do that too!”

           Staying at these establishments is an entirely pleasurable experience, one that we look forward to repeating every chance we get. Yesterday we pulled into Soniota Vineyards in Elgin (pop. 117) Arizona. Go ahead, look it up and see where it is. Just about anywhere in Arizona is in the middle of nowhere, so you can imagine how nowhere Elgin, Arizona is. That is the beauty of this experience. The M.O.N. (Middle of Nowhere) is exactly what you may be looking for especially if you are in the Witness Protection Program. We saw a Border Patrol random checkpoint yesterday set up on a little road that led out of Mexico. We were going towards Mexico, so they did not stop us, but we expect that today, as we head away from this area, that we may be stopped.

           I will put my Groucho Glasses on to avoid recognition.

          Today we start to wind our way back to Texas where our little Honda CRV is waiting to be hooked up the motorhome. This will enable us to further explore areas that we travel to because (as we have found out) when we just have the motorhome, we don’t fit just anywhere!       Hopefully, the wind will have died down a bit. The last few days have been crazy windy, which if you are a regular reader, you know how difficult it makes driving this thing. We even went through a Haboob! Which is a dust storm in reality, but the term Haboob, (which is what it is called in the Sudan) is much cooler to say!

          But not to drive in.

          They (the Arizona D.O.T.) have warning signs on the highways flashing when this event is about to occur. Our phones even went off as we were driving from Phoenix to Tucson on Interstate 10, like they would with an Amber Alert or another similar event.

          It scared the Bejeezus out of us. Almost total white-out conditions. They recommend that you pull over, turn off your lights, and keep your foot off the brakes because you don’t want someone in back of you to see your lights and try and “follow” you through the storm.

          We are now Haboob Certified.

          If the weather cooperates, we are going to try and stop by Tombstone, Arizona today. The home of the infamous O.K. Corral and the subsequent shoot-out with Wyatt Earp, Doc Holliday, and their group against the loosely formed outlaw gang called The Cowboy’s. Apparently, the Town Fathers (and Mothers?) have made wise choices over the years and have kept as much of the historic fabric as possible intact. It is a Town, no admission charge, just go and see it all (and hopefully drop a few bucks in a local establishment.)

          Reports to follow in another post.

Sunset Crater National Monument and Wutpaki National Monument are side-by-side each other just a little North of Flagstaff, Arizona. National Monuments were established to help preserve objects that have historical, cultural and/or scientific interest, while National Parks are protected for their scenic, recreational, inspirational, or educational value.

As you can imagine there is plenty of room for overlap in these areas. The important thing is that it is all preserved.

The day was about as perfect as one can be. You will witness this first-hand when you see the photographs that I’ve selected for your viewing pleasure 🙂 But then, that’s just one of the attributes that draws folks out to our Western States. I’ll start with Sunset Crater because that’s the way we did it!

Sunset Crater is a relatively young dormant volcano, last erupting about 1000 years ago. What make this so special is that the Ancestral Puebloans were already here and the effects of the eruption are documented not only in the tracings of their movements but also in the oral histories of the present day Pueblo tribes such as the Hopi and Zuni.

Now on to Wutpaki National Monument.

Wutpaki is a pueblo site. These differ from the Cliff Dwellings that came a little later in the era that saw the Ancestral Puebloans establish a culture on the Colorado Plateau. These buildings were often multi-story and were used for living, worship, grain storage, and in some cases, defense. The materials were found nearby except for some of the wood used for floors and ceilings, These trees came from as far away as twenty miles

Looky Who’s Driving!

Well guess who decided that it was time to start learning how to drive the Behemoth? The roads were empty as you can see. Paula drove the rest of the day and even when we exited the Park. She had no intention of driving all the way into Flagstaff, but as the journey went on, there was not an opportunity to switch drivers. She ended up in downtown Flagstaff and negotiated all of the highways and main streets like a pro until we came to our RV Campground for the night. I didn’t even have to use my “Imaginary Brake”!

Willy Nelson stopped by the campfire last night.

          We had our usual good time just singin’ and playin’ our guitars.

          Not really, I can’t sing a note as anyone in my family can attest to,  and, besides,  the only thing I can play is the radio.

          But when “On the Road Again” popped into my head when thinking of a title for this post, well……

          Today is Wednesday (4 AM as I write this) and as I put my best “Travelogue Narrator’s” voice on here,

          “We bid a fond farewell to Durango and her neighbors as we drive ever Westward in search of the Perfect Walmart Parking Lot. So until we meet again, Adios! Durango, someday we’ll find our way back to you and your skyline of awe-inspiring mountain ranges.”

          What a load of crap.

          My daughter lives here and it is one of our Bases here in the West.          Of course, we’ll be back!

          But today is a Travel Day! Another “Ho-hum-incredibly-great-weather-as-usual” kind of day that abounds in this area. Our next destinations are several stops in Arizona where two of Paula’s cousins live. We have a few days to get there and luckily there is no shortage of sights along the way.                                                                                             The Drive itself may be rewarding enough, especially with the Gigundo Vista Visage Bug-Splattering Windshield in front of us. Our route takes us through Northwest New Mexico, past Shiprock and the Four Corners Monument, which because of an exceedingly embarrassing surveying error, is not, in fact, positioned at the precise location of the intersection of Colorado, New Mexico, Arizona, and Utah. (Maybe Willy stopped by their campfire the night before they went to work and they all had some extra libations, et al, if you catch my drift.) Oh well, at least it makes for a good story!                                                                               All of this is on the expansive Navajo Indian Nation’s Reservation or The Rez, as it is locally known. It is the largest Reservation in the nation, totaling a little over 27,000 square miles of desert, open range, and some of the largest coal deposits on the planet. To give you a perspective on how large it is, New Jersey is around 8000 square miles in size. Interestingly, and probably much to the chagrin of the Hopi Nation, the reservation entirely surrounds the Hopi’s Reservation. This issue has been around for a while, and of course the U.S. Government and their incredibly bad record of handling Native American affairs, compounded the problems. But, if you go back far enough, the Hopi’s, who still live in Pueblos,  have a much better argument for living here because it is easy to trace their history back to the Ancestral Puebloans (Anasazi) whose relics and cliff dwellings abound in this region. The Navajo where a nomadic tribe from areas much to the north of here.                                                                                                         But, back to our route. We had planned on visiting Navajo National Monument, a part of the National Park Service, but it is closed due to the Covid Deal. It seems that Covid hit the Navajo with more severity than any surrounding populations.  So we are probably going to pass that by in favor of two NPS Parks a little further south and they are Wutpaki N.P. (one of the Ancestral Puebloans site ) and its neighbor Sunset Crater N.P. (this entire area is rife with old volcano activity). 

          This is the area that we plan to “Boondock” in. Boondocking is the term given to just parking and staying, not hooked up to any utilities. Even staying in the aforementioned Walmart parking lot is considered boondocking. The site will be on Bureau of Land Management land, (BLM for short) which is just public land that can be used for just about anything that is legal.  BLM land does have some practical regulations having to do with the likes of fires in the dry season and not destroying the Ancestral Puebloan sites, the majority of which, lie within BLM management areas, all across the Colorado Plateau. This is the geographic term given to the expansive land uprising that starts around Flagstaff, Arizona and continues northward and eastward thru Utah, New Mexico, and Colorado.

          Enough of the Geography lesson. No worries, you are all just auditing this course, there are no quizzes, and it is not even pass/fail.    It is just for fun. 😊   

(Same day, Later in the Evening,  7PM)

          The trip today went as planned.

           Ho-Hum gorgeous weather.

          300 Miles of Western Desert Scenery.

          Zero Traffic

          And not even one Interstate Highway!

          All was good until we got to the entrance to the Four-Corners Monument.

          Closed.

          Now I can understand how Covid has affected many areas and has wreaked havoc on many a Travel Plan. But this particular site is a giant concrete pad with the outlines of the four boundaries intersecting at perfect right angles.  One does not need a Guide to interpret this.        Maybe they are afraid of vandals, but really, this place could have been made available. So undaunted, we went off into the desert, I took out my phone, went on Google Maps, found the real Four Corners, drew our own State Boundary Lines, and stood in all four States at once!

          Not really, but it would have been fun to try! We had kind of a schedule to keep because the place where we were planning to Boondock today is a National Forest, administered in the same way as BLM land and therefore needed some reconnoitering to find a decent (level) campsite.

          Arriving too close to dark is taboo.

          So back into the Whale we clambered and continued on our way. This day was the antithesis of most of our other travel days so far, so there are no hair-raising or near-catastrophic stories to tell.

          Sorry about that.

          But I’m not!

          We arrived here in the Cocochino National Forest a little after three in the afternoon and as it turns out, non-too soon. The area is well used, and the sites scattered among the pines were many and varied. They are absolutely, slam-dunk, perfect for Camping.                                                   Especially if you have tent.                                                                                 Or a Pop-Up.                                                                                                                Or a Pick-up with a Camper in theback.                                                          

Or a small travel trailer.                                                                                  

Maybe even a smaller, traditional RV.

          But NOT a Full-Size Big-Ass Coach.

Hey! What did we know? We wandered our way in on the more than adequate graveled road and looked for sites for us to occupy. I felt like we were in Goldilocks and the Three Bears…..

          “This one is too small”.

          “This one is too rocky”.

          “This one is not level enough”.

          We tried one that looked promising, but after we tried to level and were unsuccessful, we spent an inordinate amount of time trying to extricate ourselves from the clutches of the various trees and rocks that seemed to pop up after we entered this site. Paula outside on her cell phone communicating with me inside, frantically working the controls in an attempt not to get too many scratches on our pretty baby. Well, let’s just say we finally managed to exit, and we will only need a few Band-Aids to fix her up.

          Undaunted (and we really liked it here, plus we did not want to be the guests of Walmart of Flagstaff ), we tried the other direction.

          Nope.

          Nope.

          Nope.

          Ahh…. Maybe?

          I exited the coach and looked around. Level looked good. Trees spaced nicely. Exit without backing even appeared ok. So, in we went and held our breaths as the leveling process began. It’s not that we can’t park in a spot that isn’t level, it’s just that we need to be level to put the slides out, which makes it way nicer to be inside walking around, cooking , bathrooms, etc.

          There is an Auto-Level System aboard the senses our attitude and adjusts accordingly. But it does have its limits, so finding a spot that is fairly level to begin with is a necessity.

          Finally, after many big tweaks, and then some tiny tweaks, the Leveling Lady decided that we were good!

          We went for walk around and to check out our new neighborhood. We found that there were other like-minded folks in the area and that made us feel good. They are probably looking over at us and wondering who the big jerks are that drove a Giant Class A Coach into the woods.  Spying our Jersey license plates, I am sure they just shook their heads in understanding. Can’t wait to get the Texas tags on!

          Back inside, dinner, some cards, and now some Zzzzzz’s.

It is called the “Million Dollar Highway”.

           US Route 550 winds around mountains and through passes as it runs its course and connects Durango with Silverton, Ouray, and points beyond deep in the San Juan Mountains of Colorado.

          Some say it is called this because it cost a million dollars per mile to construct (totally believable).

          Some say it is called this because of its “Million Dollar” vistas. (Again, totally believable).

          I call it that because I will need to spend a million dollars on Trauma Therapy after driving round trip from Durango to Ouray.

          All kidding aside, this road exhilarates and terrifies all at the same time. Let us talk about the Terror first.

          Extremely high elevations.

          No Guardrails.

          Twisty turns that can launch you to your death.

          But this is the West, where men are men and so are the women!

          If you can’t hack the drive, then get off the road!

          Unfortunately, I am used to driving back East, in New Jersey, where the DOT once wanted to put guardrails on a driveway. (Only kidding, but not far from the truth). Out here in the West there are so many miles of lightly traveled roads that putting up guardrails is an economic impossibility. Besides, we need something to help Darwin prove this theory of evolution and that only the strong survive.

          Hence, No Guardrails. Period.

          Luckily for us it was early November, and the tourist season was grinding to a halt until Ski Season arrives. So, there was no one on the road, and I was able to stop dead (maybe the wrong adjective here) in the middle of the road and take photos.     

          This brings me to the Non-Terror stuff.

          Every time you stop and take a photo and think “Ahh, this is magnificent!” and then get back in the car and go around the bend, you find that you need to repeat that exercise because you have found an even better M.P.O. (Magnificent Photographic Opportunity). It gets to the point where your eyes cannot take it all in at the same time. Luckily, you get the same view, but from the opposite perspective on the return trip. The San Juan’s are one of the prettiest mountain ranges around.

          They are also one of the most mineral-rich depositories in the world. They hold just about every important mineral that can be imagined, even uranium. Durango, Silverton and Ouray are just a small example of the towns that sprang up in the 1800’s when the Mining Boom was in full swing. Gold and Silver, those Treacherous Temptress’s of Treasure, were the most sought after, no surprise there.

          Nowadays, even though the Boom has gone Bust, these little towns have found new lives as outdoor meccas and driving destinations. The assortment of café’s, breweries, gear shops, galleries and most importantly, Chocolate Shops, has helped them survive the change-over.

          Unfortunately for us, Mouses Chocolaterie in Ouray,closed the day before we got there. I felt like the two guys in the movie Endless Summer who traveled around the world searching for the Perfect Wave. They would get to the beach where some local would inevitably say, “Ahh mate, Ya shoulda been ‘ere yesterday!”     

             After a really nice lunch on the patio of the Gold Belt Saloon (Sunny, 70 degrees, at 7500 feet of elevation) we walked down the street to find that they decided to close for November, spruce the place up, and take a much-needed rest.   

          Highly dejected, (at least I was) we headed back to Durango.

          I was counting on their Dark Chocolate and incredible Milkshakes to keep me out of Trauma Therapy.

          Oh well.