In an instant I realize that living and traveling in an RV is the life for me!
I know almost nothing about camping, and even less about RVing. So what do I do? Google search, of course! I type in “RVing” and, after that, “camping.”
(In those days relatively few blogs and forums existed.)
Voraciously I devour all the information I find.
I learn about the phenomenon known as “full-timing.”
All of the photos in this post are scenes around our present camp off Vulture Mine Road south of Wickenburg, approximately 55 miles northwest of Phoenix.
I read Tioga George’s blog from the beginning.
I enter forums and ask questions. All weekend I’m at the computer, except for necessary meals, breaks and a little sleep. I discover that George isn’t the only one living in a home on wheels. Oh my gosh, the freedom to roam when and where I want . . . What an incredible way to live!
Two saguaros and the wash, as seen from our campsite
At one point I’m so excited that I jump up from the computer desk and pace around the room, fists above my head, possibilities swirling in my mind.
“I have GOT to do this! Good God Almighty, I have GOT to do this!”
Bridget, Spike, and Janie, ignored for hours, pick up my excitement.
The three of them chase each other around the house. Spike’s excitement reaches fever pitch. He runs into the bedroom, jumps on the bed, crashes through the pillows, flies off the bed, races back to the living room, performs a bank turn, high on the back of the sofa, leaps six feet out to the floor, skids on the corner to the hallway and around the track again!
“GO, SPIKEY, GO!”
Bridget and Janie try to keep up, but after a while they drop out of the chase to catch their breath. All four of us collapse on the bed.
I wrap my arms around the warm heap of happy, panting canines and laugh.
Oh, how I laugh! I laugh until my eyes fill with tears. I haven’t laughed like this in years.
“We are going to do this, guys.”
Reach to the sun!
Falling back on the bed, I gaze upward at the ceiling, eyes brimming.
I don’t know how, but, dammit, we are going to do this. Whatever it takes, I’ll find a way.
It’s time for me to live!
One day, some time later, I’m reading — or perhaps re-reading — one of George’s posts.
He has parked his Class C motor home on a small hill outside a village. Not wanting to break camp, he removes his bike from the back of the RV in order to pedal his way to the grocery store.
By now I have the habit of putting myself into George’s blog. I imagine myself in a Class C and I imagine myself doing what George is doing, riding a bike into town for groceries.
Wait a minute . . .
How am I going to pedal into town with three dogs?
(Note: I hadn’t yet made the difficult decision that only two of my dogs could vagabond with me.)
I can’t have them running alongside my bike. I can’t leave them behind in the RV. What if it’s hot?
A long view of the same wash, looking to the northwest.
I begin to take into account how my situation, personality, and interests differ from George’s. I become aware that what works for George may not work for me and my canine family. I need to devise my own plan.
I move from the euphoria stage to the analysis stage.
Our house on a hill
In upcoming posts, I’ll write about how my vision for full-time living on the road evolved, including the very important choice of a rig and how I managed to come up with the means to obtain it.
Saturday, March 22 through Monday, March 24
These three days consist of taking long walks with Bridget and Spike, snapping photographs, relaxing in the shade of the Best Little Trailer, reading my kindle, watching the many birds flitting around our front yard and flying across the wash that curves around the promontory on which we reside.
Perfect weather. . . Cool mornings are for exploring
I set out a pan of water and stick orange halves on the palo verde tree in our front yard.
These are well received and enjoyed by several varieties of birds, some bees, and a sneaky, brown lizard (salamander?) about five inches long who darts out from the rocks and retreats in a flash.
I find this nest built only 3 feet up from the ground.
Sunday I’m in the lounger reading when our most frequent visitor, a dusty tan, curved-bill thrasher, once again appears on the rocks of the fire ring to look us over.
I keep very still, looking down at the e-reader in my hands. Sneaking a peek to the side I watch as the bird hops onto the ground closer to me and to the open door between us.
Oh my gosh, he’s going inside!
Sure enough, he hops up on the step and into the BLT!
That nosy, little devil. Inwardly I chuckle at his audacity. Hey! No drop-in visitors! A moment later out he flies and I return to my reading.
The next morning . . .
Bridget and Spike are back in bed, dozing, their bellies full of breakfast. I’m sitting at the table at the rear of the BLT, drinking coffee and responding to comments. The front door is shut as it’s still chilly outside.
Quick movement at the window grabs my attention.
Pat -pat – pat – pat . . . Tiny footsteps on the roof! Oh, this is too funny!
I know it’s our friendly and quite persistent pal, the curved-bill thrasher. He walks across the roof and pecks on the ceiling vent, tapping out a clear invitation . . .
“Hey, you in there! C’mon outside and join us! It’s a beautiful day!”
rvsue
I APPRECIATE YOU SHOPPING AMAZON FROM MY BLOG!
Here is a sample of recent purchases:
RIO Adventure Compact Expandable Table
Tuff Plastic Frame 4-Pak Readers- by American Reading Glasses
Volcano 3 Collapsible Cook Stove
Skechers Women’s Sweetpea Fashion Sneaker
Hamilton Beach FlexBrew Coffeemaker
Vintage Travel Trailer Drop Earrings
“This is fun, isn’t it, Spike . . . .”
