The Quiet Words

How to be a satellite.

We came home a couple days ago. I decided to go back the way we came and leave the Grand Canyon for another time. It really felt like the kind of thing you set out to do rather than the last leg of the trip. I want to savor it, but honestly something strong told me not to go that way. I knew before we even arrived in Aspen that we wouldn’t drive through Arizona and that I needed to re-route our trip back. It was like an ominous whispering from my deepest point of intuition. I have learned after many years of blindly neglecting these powerful gifts never to ignore them again.

 Also, the spontaneity of being able to change your plans last minute is so liberating I couldn’t really stop doing it! I fell completely in love with waking up at five am and hitting the road. I would walk the dog at dawn, only slightly concerned about early morning encounters with large animals, then unplug my rig and hit the road. My girls would be tucked in bed and slumbering away for hours before they would wake up and join me.

Listening to music quietly and feeling so involved in the morning scenes that unfolded in front of me became cathartic solitary moments of bliss. It reminded me of when I am out in nature hiking and I can’t wipe the grin off my face because I feel so at ease.

After a breathtaking day in Moab and a lovely, rainy evening camping in Red Cliffs Canyon we made a group decision to drive home a day early just because we could!  We were done camping for the moment and excited at the idea of our cozy home and family and friends. The lovely solitude of nature with all of its treasures is perfect for me but I know that if I push it for too long my children will eventually resist it.

We all loved coming home and when I look at my sweet smelling dark wooded house with all of my style and taste I always feel so unbelievably lucky. It really is such a wonderful place to come home to with all its warm familiarity.

       I’m a bit travel weary because lets face it, driving for nine hours in a regular car is exhausting but driving in a RV packs a bit more of a punch. Dropping down through Vegas with all the wind blowing the rig all over the highway for hours had my nerves totally fried, not to mention my shoulders ached and my arms throbbed.

I know that this kind of trip is easier with more than one adult. But I was tired of waiting and I don’t like to tell myself that I can’t do things, especially things that I dream about doing.

Still, the night after I dropped off my little mobile home and our adventure was truly at a close I couldn’t help but miss my Rig.  I’m definitely not interested in owning an RV, but there was something about the way it made me feel, pulling into gas stations and checking the oil and the gages on the propane tanks and generators. I felt powerful and liberated.  I was outside of societal expectation for two weeks and all I needed was a horizon. I still need a horizon but for now I am happy with the one that I can see from my front yard.

 

The rise and fall of the camp thief.

I decided to go with the flow once we got to our Bryce Canyon campsite and take a bus tour up into Bryce canyon. This way my girls could hear some fun facts about the area and I wouldn’t have to unplug the rig and lumber up the mountain for more driving. I am not a “joiner” so this was a very inspired idea and I almost dedicated it to my dearest Gramps who recently passed.

The sound of the tour guides voice was similar to someone that had been taking copious amounts of medications. He had a very dry sounding palate and he enunciated his words very slowly. Also, as far as I could tell he never seemed to take a breath other than when he would clear his throat very loudly into his microphone. The tour consisted of a drive to the top of the canyon to a viewpoint and then several stops back down at well, more viewpoints. By the end of the three hour tour my girls and I had lost our excitement and wonder over the Hulus and rocky crags.

   We did pick up a few interesting tidbits of information though such as:  if you stick your nose “ into a deep crevice of a ponderosa pine” You will smell vanilla.  I know. The awkwardness alone hearing this come out of the mouth of our aged and long-winded driver was almost more than I could bear. I’m ashamed to say that despite how inappropriate the other tourists looked sticking their eager faces into these unsuspecting pine “cracks ” I eventually succumbed to curiosity…. it is indeed true. The smell is almost like cupcakes. Fun fact.

When we got back into town we decided to bike over and get an ice cream. That is when I noticed to my shock that my credit cards were all missing from my wallet.

I went through all the phases of shock, disbelief, fear then anger in about ten seconds. I looked at my girls happily eating their ice cream. They had no idea what this meant. In that moment my mind was flooded and all I could think was that we could be stuck! HERE in this place! As much as I loved camp life, one of the best parts about it was the wonderful ability to escape whenever we wanted!!

 Without credit cards how could we travel? How could we get gas? I only had a little cash with me. The blood was draining from my head as I called my credit card companies but I ended up hanging up on the woman after she started to explain the exciting current sales and services this particular card was offering!

I looked at my girls and told them the truth. It was the three of us out here and I needed them to know the real deal. No more protecting for the sake of keeping a stiff upper lip. For the moment we were in crisis mode.

We needed to abandon the ice cream and deal with the situation so, we biked back to the RV park and got in touch with the sheriffs department. My cards had been taken on the tour we had been on. There was one point where the guide had told us to leave our belongings on board for a quick viewpoint. It wasn’t more than five minutes but this was the only time my wallet was away from me.

When I got back to my RV I realized that I DID have a checkbook and my license with me which meant we were ok to travel but I still felt like crying. So I did. And so did my girls. We sat there under the cupcake smelling ponderosas and cried together that someone took our things. Of course I reassured them that we were safe and we had what we needed to continue our trip but I also told them that it was Ok for us to be upset. I felt pretty good about the fact that my girls were able to see me break down and then recover and before long we were all laughing about the whole bizarre day. The Sheriff arrived and had all three of my cards, which he found, on the floor of the bus. Whoever had taken them out of my bag had obviously decided to abandon the plan. Thank God. We went for a swim and planned to leave the campground the next morning. After we had packed up all of our things and were settling in for the night a big storm passed over us letting out thunder and rain. Sitting in our little tin home and hearing the loud drops of rain seemed to wash away any bad feelings and we all slept soundly through the cool night under the aligned planets.

The next morning I awoke with the dawn and drove straight through to Aspen. I felt like a hero driving my sleeping children through the desert onward to the mountains.