(Note to Bendites) Web access it limited, so if, for any strange or nefarious reason the phone might be faster – 815-5531)

Can’t believe it’s been so long since we’ve written. We be behind!

We loved the Cadillac Ranch at Bluff, Utah. Took a 500 mile side trip to Flagstaff to the fabric store and stopped to look at the Grand Canyon on the way. It was okay. After the spiritual intimacy of Canyon de Chelly, the Grand Canyon is sort of … grand, I guess. It is so big it reminded me of what my little brother said when he saw the Pacific Ocean for the first time – “where is it?” We are accustomed to having edges on our space; edges define our world. The edges of the GC are hard to see, especially on a hazy day. There is a lot of haze in the Grand Canyon, apparently blowing in from southern California.

But the fabric store was great, and I’m stocked up on project material, and the side trips from Bluff were really good. Jason has been great about putting captions on the pictures we send to the website. A lot of them are a little screwy, and end up even screwier. That’s okay, though. I do keep meaning to edit his comments about Canyon de Chelly, however, as we were pretty profoundly impressed by its beauty and it wasn’t screwy. (But we didn’t tell him that until later.)

We left Bluff on May 18 and headed up to Northeastern Utah. Going from Page, AZ to Duchesne, UT, we found ourselves going up Indian Canyon, 8,500 feet up!! Cygnus did really well; Dave did really well; I did so-so. It was awful. The next day I hurt all over from the full-body clench and using the phantom brake.

We spent a couple of days in Vernal, Utah, finishing up our Indian ruins study at the Macreadie Ranch, looking at the petroglyphs. These ‘glyphs are on private property and the “trails” are very primitive – lots of climbing and scrambling over boulders. But worth it. Some of the most distinctive rock art we have seen; stick figures decorated with headdresses, breast plates and jewelry.

Our daughter-in-law comes from this part of Utah, and we were glad to see it. We had no idea it would be so agricultural. This country is probably greener than usual because of heavy rains and a flood-warning runoff, but it’s really beautiful. Jamie’s family lives two towns away. We couldn’t hook up with them this time,but will catch them next trip. (Jamie remembers riding the bus down Indian Canyon for basketball/volleyball meets in high school and just lying down on the seat and praying!)

We got to Logan in time to help Susie turn nine. It was a great visit. I got to cook for a family of more than two, and Jamie let me dig and plant wherever I wanted. Jason’s shop (with Davey’s old tools) is next to the bus, so he puttered happily. In early June we had a snowstorm that made us remember January, but it passed and the weather was mostly sunny. Logan is a pretty little town; it’s nice to walk on sidewalks. Dave rode with the Cache Valley Veloists.

All the Swan girls are very artistic. Becca’s drawings show how she viewed our visit. Grampa was definitely busier than Gramma! We got to go to both Susie and Becca’s end-of-year school conferences. Katie helped me cook. And we got the best baby-fix with Xander. He is a beautiful baby – looks like Katie except boyish – very strong and such a happy baby. Jason and Jamie can be very proud of their family.

J and J took us to Pickleville to eat barbecue and see the P’ville Theatre’s summer fare, a musical melodrama. It was a real hoot; we loved it!

So here we are, 5,084 miles later, back in Bend. We’re doing our annual doctor visits, facing up to taxes, replacing the refrigerator, and giving Davey time to train for the Idaho Bike Ride July 3lst. I’ll be spending a week or so with my Mother in early July and we’ll be visiting son Kevin and friends.

We’re at the Scandia RV Park on south Hwy 97, lucky to find a space anywhere in the county for a six week stay. The RV Rally in July has booked everything solid. The Scandia (formerly Lowe’s Trailer Park) suits us. It has a newer addition and the old funk part where I delivered Jason’s paper route when he was on the ski team in high school. Same trailers! We are in the newer addition, right next to Wendy’s parking lot. It is nice to be back in the pines, although we haven’t missed it. Dave is trying hard not to complain about the cold, but we can’t take the quilts off. The Bulletin delivery starts tomorrow and I have a place to hang a bird feeder. Life is good.

Love to all,

Sam

When we left Truth or Consequences it made me smile to think I have wanted to go to T or C for so long and it is so “less” than any place we’ve been. Yet we were there a week and loved it. There is a sweetness to this withered community, peopled by folks who really want to live here. There is no grocery store (Although Pixie’s is a good mercantile), no fresh or even frozen fish (sorry, Cathy, we don’t count Catfish), the art community is mostly sagebrushers, stores open and close at a whim with a note on the door, and prices are as high as anywhere else.

Yet the rodeo grounds are built so you can sit right in the beer garden and be on top of the action. I use the word “action” pretty loosely but the burger was truly memorable. We stayed over in T or C to help celebrate Fiesta, the town’s weekend when Ralph Edwards used to come with any stars he could round up (Tab Hunter, Jayne Mansfield, Andy Devine, Rose Marie, etc.). Ralph is too old to come anymore but the town still does its best to turn out for an old fashioned parade and activities in the park.

Still smarting from my run-in with the Big Indian at the Casino golf course, I was somewhat shy about entering the Spam-Tastic contest. I debated on entering my Cram-spacker creation, a big hit in the Cook Islands, or my molded ham of Spam, scored and garnished with cloves and a nice glaze. Davey and I laughed for days, in anticipation.

As it happened, I got sidetracked by a 3-hour documentary on Ayurvedic treatments and didn’t get my Spam entry to the park. When we got there we were truly dumbfounded to realize this contest had not a whiff of humor to it. There were six serious entries and three serious judges eating and making notes. The winner was a hotly seasoned tidbit, “buffalo wings,” with obviously no points for presentation – sticky chunks in a bag. It won over Spam rellenos, Spamish rice, burritos, and a couple of beer battered Spam numbers. Thank GAWD I wasn’t up there with my Spam Ham, red-faced and not knowing the rules again. I know you all would have been supportive but you’re not HERE!! (Keep this contest in mind for a party, though.)

Overall, the Fiesta days were a wash. We learned what funnel cake was but couldn’t get one because of equipment malfunction. The duck race was late and the junk boats didn’t show. I won a beer cooler at the rodeo raffle but couldn’t climb the announcer’s ladder to get it. Ted Turner couldn’t make it, but he donated the bison.

We’re now, as of May 10th, settled in Bluff, Utah, at the Cadillac Ranch RV Park. This is the only real destination we’ve had on our trip, and we based it on the recommendation of Rachel and Larry Baker, who were here a couple of years ago. So it just seemed natural that we should see Larry soon after we pulled in! He and a couple of buddies (Sterling Williver and Don Corn) are here with motorcycles, seeing the ruins. We had a great dinner last night at the local cafe, with the local Ranger and his wife, who had pulled Sterling’s bike out of a ditch somewhere. The bike and Sterling are okay.

After we left Truth or Consequences we spent four days at Canyon De Chelly, dry camping at the Cottonwood Park. Mothers Day we hiked down into the canyon (1-1/2 miles) to see the famous Anasazi Ruins called White House. It was amazing. The Canyon itself almost brought me to tears the same way my first trip to the Museum of Modern Art in NYC did. It is so staggeringly beautiful and even having seen pictures does nothing to dilute the overpowering force of its beauty. We shared the trail with many Navajo families making the trek with kids and even strollers – amazing, given the fact that the trail is not difficult but it is long and steep and full of rocks. The Canyon is obviously an important part of their spiritual heritage. We were surprised to find the bottom of the Canyon very green and being actively farmed and a little herd of goat kids running on it, They are only loosely penned so they get out and climb the trail, or the steep cliffs along the trail, challenging each other. It was a day of things I never expect to see again, or at least anywhere else. A wonderful Mother’s Day.

We send our love,

Sam

We drove our Bird-house from Mesilla to Truth or Consequences, New Mexico last week. The road follows along the Rio Grande, and it’s interesting to see how the river fills up and broadens the farther north we go. When we went to Mexico we crossed the river and it was empty. Here in T or C, it is a strong river, dammed in places, and providing irrigation all the way. We were surprised to travel a lush, broad valley nearly 60 miles long, planted with Pecans, onion and garlic, and alfalfa. All the fields are irrigated by the flood method; we have seen very few sprinklers no matter what the crop. Pecan orchards really stand out because most growers keep the ground clear of grass or weeds. It obviously helps during harvest when the trees are shaken and the nuts swept up. At least one major grower, however, lets grass and weeds grow as the nuts grow, because they do not use toxic sprays and the ladybugs and aphid eaters they cultivate nest in the grass.

We didn’t realize that New Mexico is so high. The lowest State Park here is 3,200 ft, and the highest is 8,500. This west-central part of the state is very different from what we saw going east to Roswell. Other than the mountain towns of Ruidoso and Cloudcroft, the landscape is a mind-numbing flatness, desert unrelieved even by mesquite. You can see why they thought it was okay to test the atomic bomb. (They now open up the Trinity blast site to the public two days a year. We’re passing.) But here in west-central NM, the land is a rosy green wash of hills and buttes, dotted with Juniper shrubs. There is no more Saguaro, but still a lot of Agave and Yucca. We see many fences made of dried Yucca stalks.

For years I have told you all that Truth or Consequences was where I wanted to go first when we got on the road. Leaving Utah in January, it wasn’t possible to travel the mountains to get here – we had to go south and swing up – but here we are and it is exactly what I thought it would be.

Kevin’s Dad, Bill Mullin, was raised by his grandparents, Charlie and Flossie Witt. They were harness horse people (Grandpa was a trainer of world class pacers) and wintered here in Truth or Consequences. I have good memories of Grandma Flossie telling us about this little town and the healing hot springs that no doubt brought them here. Grandpa died in 1964 and Grandma Flossie died in 1970 and they are buried here in the ancient little Hot Springs Cemetery. I felt like I had completed a circle when I found their graves and put some flowers on it. I bought artificial flowers for the first time in my life and had a real hard time doing it, but both flower shops here are full of “eternal bouquets” and the only real flowers were saggy roses at the IGA marked down to $29.00. Besides, as Dave consoled me, the wind blows so hard, and it’s so hot, real flowers wouldn’t last a day. The cemetery isn’t very well tended, but it is lovingly visited, as attested to by the acres of artificial flowers and religious artifacts. Visitors seeing Grandma and Grandpa’s grave will know they are loved. Davey got those flowers anchored so they will stand up to a hurricane.

There is no WalMart in T or C, and no fabric store. Considering its re-birth in the 50’s, it is surprisingly undiscovered. Ralph Edwards, of This is Your Life fame, had a radio show called Truth or Consequences and in about 1952, he broadcast a call for towns who might be willing to change their name to Truth or Consequences. Said he would bring the whole show there and broadcast at least once a year. This little dead mining town of Hot Springs thought why not? They hoped to get advertising for their mineral waters and bring in tourists. This part of New Mexico was well populated until the silver market fell apart at the turn of the century. So the town changed its name and Ralph Edwards has come once a year for 50 years, even after his radio show closed. He’s not coming this year – the annual Fiesta and Ralph Edwards Day is this weekend — but Moe down at the art store/gallery says he was here a couple of weeks ago, in frail health, but delivering an autographed picture for auction. We’re planning to take in the festivities. Ted Turner has a very large ranch 15 miles down the road, and I’m hoping he’ll drop by the rodeo.

We’re in a little RV park up on a hill overlooking the town, Cielo Vista. We checked out a couple of parks that went right over our Funk Index. Found a couple of cute ones but would have had to wedge our big Bird butt into it. A little space is nice when you’re staying a week or so. We’re finding the daily rates for a lot of average parks are higher than we expected — $19 to $22/night. The weekly rate gets it down a few dollars. Even the State parks are high. We thought we wanted to stay at Elephant Butte Lake, near T or C, but it was $22/night and the Park Service wouldn’t let us go see a site without paying $5 — HAH I don’t think so. Cielo Vista is better. We can walk or bike to downtown (2 miles round trip) and take the waters ($5 for 1/2 hour). I am having such fun cooking. I am learning to make tortillas (won’t Katie love that!?!) and getting more chili savvy. Yesterday Davey had Billy the Kid’s Mother’s molasses bread pudding for breakfast!! Life is good!

Love to all,

Sam

We be out of Arizona, finally. We have really liked Arizona, however our leaving was somewhat facilitated by a very large Apache who carted me of the golf course. quite literally, the day before we left the San Carlos resort. Since I don’t golf, I don’t know the rules (except for TV) and it never occurred to me that I couldn’t walk on the dirt path that meanders around the golf course. There was a rock marked “walking path” and one day a San Carlos employee in a golf cart stopped and remarked to me how great the path was for walking. But apparently the threesome I saw were bothered by my presence and called the big Indian who would not let me walk out of the area but insisted on escorting me back to the pro shop by cart. It was very humiliating. The golding threesome had yelled something at me, but of course I didn’t hear what they said. They smiled so I smiled and nodded (and kept on walking). I will probably be remembered as being eccentric when I’m really only deaf.

We’ve come to stay in Mesilla, a dusty old village on the edge of Las Cruces, New Mexico. Billy the Kid hung out here and the town was a big stop on the Butterfield Stage Line.

It seems like everything in New Mexico is just a little more sharply defined than in Arizona. The desert is a little drier and flatter, the mountains are higher and craggier, poverty areas are dirtier, and the roads are in worse need of repair. Whoever decided that plastic garbage bags were better than paper should have to pick them off the cacti and sticker trees that line the highways of the windy Southwest.

We drove to El Paso Saturday and took the trolley to Juarez, Mexico. The trolley makes seven stops; we got off at stop four to enjoy the free Marguerita (and a fantastic lunch) and walked to stop seven (to the unbelieving dismay of local taxi drivers). The restaurant we ate in topped every Mexican restaurant experience I’ve ever had. In this land where anything will grow if you give it a cup of water, the propensity for artificial flowering stuff reaches a plastic pitch in the Hispanic culture. This restaurant had artificial plants and flowers everywhere, plus a huge artificial tree full of artificial fruit and flowers and an artificial CHILD in it! The walls were hung with stuff that had other stuff hanging from the stuff, i.e., wrought iron balconies draped in flowering vines, featuring make-believe people hanging over the grille, waving yet more flowers or swords or ribbons. My senses were stunned. We didn’t know what we ordered until we got it and we didn’t know what it cost until we paid for it but by that time we didn’t care. It was wonderful.

Good thing, because the pharmacy at stop seven was a total bust. Some of the meds are actually higher than Walgreen’s.

We shopped a little for a picnic table cloth. Dave felt commercially abused by the Mexican sales pressure (no one offered him his sister) but I kind of liked it. An outrageously flirty older Latino man sold me the table cloth and every time I said no, he dropped the price. (It helps if you kind of sing it … Nnnoooo-Oohhhhhhhh.)

We spent Sunday at the Three Rivers Petroglyph site. It’s one of the best and largest rock art sites in the country. We avoided the rattlesnakes and saw some really great ‘glyphs. Check out the website.

We are headed toward Roswell. Rather than take the Bird we will drive over and check the alien museum which has always drawn us; in fact this is where we are mailing from today. After we return to Lac Cruces we’ll start swinging north and west toward the four corners area.

We send love and warm wishes to you all.

Sam

Please check the Photo Gallery (link on the right) for new pictures.

We be very happy to be back in warm Arizona. We drove the little red car to Logan, Utah for baby Xander’s blessing the 20th of March. Dodged snowstorms on the way up and had to come home the long way, via Las Vegas, to stay at lower elevations. It was wonderful to see Jason and Jamie and the kids. Everyone is doing well, and Xander is the cutest little boy – he looks just like his sisters, except somehow boyish.

I miss my plants. The one plant I brought with me, an orchid, is surviving, but not responding well to moving around. I have been fooling around with a little bonsai … well, not really … actually, it’s garlic on a wet sponge. At least it’s responsive!

We had one last meal at the Hot licks Barbecue and Blues Saloon and said goodbye to Bisbee. Somewhat reluctantly, too. They serve the best barbecue on a paper plate with a plastic fork and a wedge of unbuttered wonder bread. The other night a lady in a fedora sang the blues accompanied by a guy on a washboard bass. When she sang Dock of the Bay, everybody whistled at the whistle part. We’ve chuckled at how the Hot Licks waitress goes out the EXIT door to get the food. We figured it was just a misplaced sign until we stepped around the building after dinner. There was a kid in a dirty apron, cooking barbecue. Outdoors. No sign of a kitchen, but it has to be there somewhere. Maybe.

Recent observations: We saw an RV with the entire back end painted to look like a Craftsman Tool Box.

The bigger the RV the more coifed the woman’s hair. A lady in a Minnie Winnie wears a butch. (The exception is, of course, the VW bus. And there are MANY of those in Bisbee, old ones.)

We drove Cygnus to Scottsdale and hooked up with Kevin and Shelly for a few days. It was great to see them, even if we were short one granddaughter. Morgan Ann was at Disneyworld with cousins from her mom’s side – pretty hard to compete with that. She would have loved where we were staying, though, at Scottsdale’s WestWorld, an equestrian events center. We saw a lot of miniature horses … what a hoot. Just the other night Davey said to me, “Did you ever think you’d have so much fun when you got old?” It’s true. We play nearly every day, no matter where we are or what we’re doing.

We’ve done a lot of exploring in southern Arizona. It has been a little shocking to find towns that aren’t as old as we are! Sierra Vista is a good example. Founded in l956, it grew out of nearby Fort Huachuca. Locals figure it will grow more in the next ten years as military bases are shut down. Fort Huachuca is a military intelligence post and they expect it to stay healthy. With the Minutemen hunkered down on the U.S./Mexico border, it may get exciting. Mike and Liz had to have their stuff out of the Bisbee storage units by April 6th because Homeland Security has rented the entire facility. Now what’s that all about?!?

We’re parked at the San Carlos Apache Reservation Casino and RV Park. We’re getting used to parking on blacktop or gravel. Even though this is an acre of blacktop, it’s roomy and clean. The only other RV facility was full of pretty permanent looking old rigs. I am enjoying looking up more history on John Clum. We started looking him up in Tombstone, I think I mentioned, because he was the owner/editor of the Epitaph. (My mother’s Uncle Peter married John Clum’s daughter, Caro.) He was probably better known as the first Indian Agent at the San Carlos Reservation when they rounded up Geronimo and Cochise and tried to convince them that the Apaches could live a good life under the care of the Great White Father. Hollywood memorialized Clum in the movie “Walk the Proud Land,” with Audie Murphy in the l950s.

Thursday we toured the Besh-Be-Gowah Archeological area of Globe, AZ. Besh-be-gowah is Apache for “metal camp,” a reference to the silver and copper mining which put Globe on the map. Globe and its bordering city, Miami, are also home to the Sleeping Beauty Turquoise Mine, which turns out an easy to recognize flawless blue stone. Davey is getting in some bike rides, in spite of the Barstow, California, flag-snapping winds that can hit these high desert areas. Temps are hovering around 82 degrees; almost everything is blooming. The desert is beautiful. Hope you all can see signs of spring and think about putting the quilts away.

Today is Saturday, and we just got back from a road trip to the Tonto Cliff Dellings. An interesting little park. Somewhat cooler today–a little rain up in Prescott and the weather people said it was snowing again in Flagstaff. The wind seems to come up every day in the desert

Love,

Sam

We be in love with Bisbee, AZ, that’s how we be. We wandered in, to do Bisbee much the way we did Tombstone and Douglas, and we’re signing up for our third week. Life at the Queen mine RV park passes pretty slowly, people coming and going, some of them nonplussed because there’s no one in the office and a very short posting of rules: “Find a space and sign in.” If you happened to get Stan on the phone, he will put your name and a space number on the posting. We find this so refreshing compared to the two or three page lists of rules RV parks usually have.

Butch, the seasonal manager for 20 years, left this week. We were sorry not to be able to say goodbye. I really wanted to ask him how he is related to William F Buckley — he’s a ringer, right down to the dermatology scars and accent.

We’re getting acquainted. Had a great talk with a woman in a gallery a few days ago, and saw her again when we went to the library to hear the Wednesday night humanities program (The power of music in native american ceremony). Our neighbors are Mike and Liz from Georgia. They are looking for a place in old Bisbee to buy. (“Just have to get away from the Bubbas.”) Both artists, they are taking Tango lessons on Wednesdays, somewhere up Brewery Gulch. That alone wouldn’t tip us over, but when we saw them at the saloon after their lesson, and noticed that Mike’s shoes light up and blink, we can’t quit laughing. Liz is having trouble because they’re on her to wear heels and of course she doesn’t have any!

Bisbee has no mail delivery. Never has. The streets are so steep and crooked and the houses are built on top of one another – I guess it’s never been an issue for anyone. The post office has 1900 boxes and they’re free. The post office also has soft rock playing . There are 6,000 people in Bisbee, but there are neighborhoods stuck way out of the main town which is known as old Bisbee and is built in the bottom of a little canyon, or gulch. Old Bisbee is distinguished not only by the houses built up and down the steep hills, but they are painted in play dough colors.

We celebrated Davey’s birthday with a tour of the Queen Mine, straddling a little electric tram to go one mile in and 1,200′ feet under the mountain into the big copper mine that closed in 1974. Bisbee was mined underground until a mine was tapped out, or fell in, and then they apparently moved on to an open mine. It is hard to tell the small mountains from tailings all around. Our tour guide was a third generation miner with some good and terrible stories and statistics. It was a good tour; we were able to get off the tram and walk up into a stope, or mining hole, and get a look at different ores and see how they were removed in layers.

Davey’s b’day dinner was ribs at the Hot Licks Barbecue and Blues joint. Whoooeeee! Great barbecue and real interesting folks.

It’s about a mile and a half to go downtown to the post office, hit a couple of shops and climb back up to the edge of the Lavender Pit where we are parked. We enjoy the walk, usually have something to mail, and there aren’t any parking spaces down there anyway.

I’m touched nearly every day to realize how we’re all connected. Almost everyone knows someone from Oregon. We find that it seems important to be from somewhere. People need to have an ounce of information to establish what they might know about you before conversation can flow. Last week I was in a turquoise shop on the other side of the Lavender Pit, and heard a lady on the phone. Taking a chance on being perceived as nosy, I asked her if she had an acoustic neuroma. She almost fainted. I tried to assure her that words like translabrynth and gamma blade are very familiar to anyone who has had a tumor like that. Nevertheless, she says she has been praying so hard to find someone who has had the surgery, someone who understands … we had a long talk. She’s hooked up now on the internet and hopefully will get through it all okay.

Recently I walked downtown and sat in the sun and talked politics with a guy who sits there every day with his dog, and a cat that sits on the dog and two little mice that sit (actually they kind of hunker) on the cat. He feels very lucky. “People are so happy to see me!”

Davey rode his bike to Mexico that day. It seemed pretty typical of our days here in Bisbee. I’ve done a little drawing and Dave has done a little Bird maintenance, and we’ve taken all the side trips that interest us. We watch the Border Patrol looking for aliens and wonder just what they’re doing. Just this morning I looked up and noticed activity on the hill above our park. It’s a great conversation starter, to ask a local just how big a problem it is, with mexicans coming across the border. Yesterday we talked to (listened to) three old guys at the Palominas Trading Post, and they brought us up to date on the coming Minuteman Experiment. Some 1,000 “Minutemen” are coming with horses and camp gear to post themselves along the border and live in the desert and show the government how inefficient the Border Patrol is, compared to what they can do. There certainly seem to be enough Border Patrol staff – they are everywhere, and always in groups of two to six – but the program doesn’t seem to be working. Dave was privy to a situation where a Mexican National brought in some marijuana, sold it, and sat down and waited for the Border Patrol to give him a ride back home. They knew he was there, waiting, but said they were just going to let him wait some more (that’ll teach him) before they picked him up. It’s like a game. Mike and Liz found a house they liked in one of the outer neighborhoods of Bisbee, but said they weren’t prepared to tolerate the noise and lights of Border Patrol helicopters coming over in the night.

We are going to drive the little red car up to Logan for Xander’s naming ceremony. We are both laughing because we’re kind of excited about taking a trip! We feel very comfortable leaving the Bird here for a week. It’s about a 2-day drive; the weather looks okay. When we get back we’ll mosey east to New Mexico and (FINALLY) Truth or Consequences.

We send warm wishes to you all. Thanks so much to all who drop a line now and then. We really don’t expect answers to our missives, but always love to get them. It’s all about connection.

Always Sam

We have been in Bisbee, AZ since Wednesday and loving it. Neat little old mining town built into a gully. Steep, narrow streets up into the small houses. We are parked on top of a hill by the Queen Mine Entrance (tours on a little train three times a day – maybe next week). Cygnus is backed up to the edge of Lavender Pit; 3k deep but no longer being operated. Having a great time. Will stay at least another ten days. Hope all are well.

Dave N’ Sam

Hi All:

I’ve been riding with our friends in Oro Valley the past few weeks. (North of Tucson,) Their Club is called the Vistoso “Sharks.” They get together three times a week and go cruising for the elusive school of pastries.

The prey is usually found and consumed within 20 miles of home base. Satiated, the pack returns home, usually breaking up into small groups to better elude a rival gang, the Saddlebrook “Jets.”

Occasionally, the two gangs meet at the same feeding grounds, but so far I have not had to participate in any rumbles. Occasional contact is okay, but one needs to be aware of too much socializing.

Weather has been a series of rain storms and warm sunshine. The Sharks are complaining about the lousy winter weather, but from my perspective, it’s “pretty damn nice.” I haven’t had to shovel snow since Logan, and most afternoons are shirt-sleeve warm.

I’ve caught up with all my projects “around the house” so I guess I’ll have to concentrate on more cycling. We are still hanging around north of Tucson, since there are many more things in the area we want to see.

We hope all is well with everybody.

Dave

Dear friends,

It’s coming up on one month that we’ve been on the road, three months since we left Bend. It’s what we call a cabin day here in Tucson, rainy and gray, so we’re reading and watching old movies on the telly.

On our way to Tucson we by-passed Yuma. When you’re driving a big rig (45’) you don’t go into crowded, unknown territory unless there is something you really want to see. And since we were just looking for warm and whatever presented itself, we took a detour and went through the Dome Valley. What a visual treat! Miles and miles of letuce and radiccio, laid out in a grid pattern, jewel tones of green and pink and red. The colors changed from square plot to plot with the type of lettuce and the date of planting — it was like a living quilt!!

Before stopping in Dateland, Arizona, we stopped and walked through a couple of RV parks before asking for a space. Once again, we were amazed at how many little trailers are filling these parks, broken down and propped up by whirlygigs and chairs from Costco, sometimes held up by the most exotic vines. Some of the trailers look planted. We wonder why the RV parks advertise to rent the few spaces they seem to have. Of course, a smaller motor home could probably get into them easier than we can. We are learning how to assess funk, trying to establish a point system, so we can experience the most interesting places. Dateland has one park with the entrance marked by a saguaro cactus made out of beer cans and painted green, complete with a little sign that says “dear crossing.”

Ajo, Arizona is a charming, no longer prosperous little town about 70 miles above the Mexico border. With our new found wisdom, we parked the Bird at the IGA store, unhooked the little red car and toured the RV parks. Passing up Belly Acres, which looked a little tight for us, we spend 3-4 days at Shadow Hills or something park.

Another lesson was right there, real quick. Some of these parks are laid out so you have to pull in at a 90 degree angle, to get next to your lettle piece of cement. If they are spaced close together it takes a little bit of jockeying back and forth. Even without the car it’s tricky. The big lesson was for me: When I say stop, it takes a few feet before the Bird can actually come to a halt, no matter how many more times I shout stop, STOP!!! We didn’t hurt the 5th wheeler that we hit, but we dinged the Bird a little. Damn! It was really upsetting for me. The 5th wheeler had a little, well, actually big skirt thing, canvas wrap that covers the front end. The owners were sitting inside when we backed into them. They came out so fast it was scary. Dave and the 5th wheel people worked it all out easily. I went inside and had a beer then took a nap.

Dave drove the car off the dolly when he was loading it to tow (in Mesquite), and now I have guided him into a 5th wheel. Hopefully there are no more big lessons around the bend. It must sound like we are having a lot of trouble, with incidents like this and repairs. It doesn’t feel like it. We feel incredibly un-stressed and happy.

We were real touristy in Ajo — it was great. We took the scenic tours and went through the museum and bought the book about the local lady who was convicted of arson at age 60 and asked the judge if she could have one more day before she went to prison. The judge took pity on her, she wanted to make arrangements for her aged, ailing husband. Then she went home and killed him.

The 120 miles from Ajo to Tucson was really spectacular. The desert landscape is so strange and beautiful, not really blooming yet, although we saw desert poppies and some kind of smooth cholla just covered in buds. A few barrell cacti are blooming.

The sight that touched me the most along this route, much of it on the Tohono O’odam (formerly known as Papago) Indian Reservation, were the roadside memorials to the dead. I counted somewhere around 36 in 100 miles, most of them very colorful with straw flowers, plastic, even pictures on bright white crosses. There were also a lot of little shrines. Even the adopt-a-highway signs were predominantly in loving memory of someone. I couldn’t always see the adoptor actually cleaned up their stretch of highway in loving memory, but they often decorated the DOT pole and sign, wrapped it in sparkly ribbon.

We’re here in the A Bar A RV park in Marana, north of Tucson. Should have done a drive through before we paid for a week in this one. We’re so used to grass, or even weeds, in the northwest, that gravel sort of offends us. Even dirt ruts are better than gravel. This is a lot of gravel, right next to the railroad tracks (remember, the trains have to toot at the crossing), and we are parked next door to the Suggses with their barking dog.

Davey is getting in good bike rides with Pierce and Willene Cornelius and Bob and Donna Mathers. They are part of the very fit and active retirement community which is understandably drawn to this country. I was in hopes we could have them out to dinner, maybe a potluck spread on a picnic table under a nice tree on the little piece of grass that I must have TOTALLY imagined we would have in Tucson. The Suggses, all four of them, smoke, too. (Another lesson: Pay for one night, and then re-up for a week.)

We’re going to get together next week with our friends from Bend. I’m looking forward to seeing them. I had an unfortunate result with my most recent attempt to touch up my hair. (My first attempt was bad enough: Susie said very kindly, “Well, it’s a real pretty pink, Gramma.” So I’m hoping to get to a salon before then. Dave is kind, too, he likens it to a peach or salmon color (read orange). I actually had an appointment to get it fixed today, but after an hour and a half of driving, totally lost, I gave up.

There is a storm coming up from the Gulf of Mexico and a lot of flood warnings are out. We have been puzzled by all the road signs which say “do not enter when flooded.” Pierce explained to Dave that the many dips in these roads can quickly fill with water and while that isn’t always a problem in itself, many of these little arroyos or washes can fill with sand which flowed in with the water and THAT can be a problem. Hopefully this little storm will blow through without much rain.

We’ve been to Tombstone (loved it) and we’re planning a trip to Tubac for an artist’s exposition, and the Tucson Expo has a large Indian Arts exhibit we plan to catch. Lots to do in Tucson!

And we’re only about 150 miles from Truth or Consequences, NM! Dave says the Tor C elevation makes it not a good trip right now, but I’m comforted just being close! We’ll head up that way as spring comes on.

We send our best to all of you, with love,

Sam

PS: There are photos on the blog, if you are interested: http://www.swansonthego.com/gallery/index.php

Little by little we’re figuring out how this trailer travel business works. We have been using Woodall’s directory of RV parks , but finding that the park rules are not like motels. At the Oasis Park in Mesquite they don’t take reservations after 2 PM — they just let the rigs circle and jockey for spaces.

After the dolly accident at the Oasis we just drove in to the Riviera Park in Las Vegas. Got lucky. The guy in the next space was really nice. He volunteered his wife to take Dave into town to pick up the car so we didn’t have to try to load the car onto the trailer while parked on a really busy main road in Las Vegas.

Not for the timid or need-to-know, this trailer travel. My tendency to get attached to the outcome diminishes daily.

We left Las Vegas heading for Bullhead City, AZ. We tried to make a reservation at the Snowbird Resort a couple of times and only got a “uh-huh, Hon, I’m pretty sure we’ll have room.” Then Dave drove the car off the dolly and we had to call and postpone our “reservation” by a day but it didn’t seem to make any difference. “Sure, Hon, we’ll prob’ly have something.” Since the other listings in Bullhead City were saying they were full or not answering, we figured, well…

We left Las Vegas and we were stopped by a beeping and flashing red light that said our racor water filter was full. Thank God Dave knows how to deal with this stuff and doesn’t panic (the beeper was LOUD), but after emptying the filter we couldn’t get the red light to go out so we turned around (no snap feat in itself) and headed back to find an RV services shop. Which was good because it put us on the right highway which we had missed because we were in the wrong lane, and then the light went off so whaddaya know, we’re on the road again to Bullhead City!

Bullhead City is about 20 miles long next to (sort of) the Colorado River. The Snowbird RV Resort is just outside the city limits, turn left at the 3rd adult book/video sore. Telling each other we’re in it for the adventure and remembering Rachel and Larry Baker’s advice to talk to people, we pulled into the Snowbird and stopped at the little Spanish style guard shack in the middle of the drive. I was leaning over with my best smile and Dave was perfectly outgoing in his chat when we realized the guy in the booth was a dummy!

So I thought we were ready for the lady calling my “Hon” and there are even pink flamingos in the cacti out front. But she’s pretty crisp: “Yeah, I remember you (no smile). Als I got is overflow parking, electricity and water only. Pay in advance.” We took it, and she’s making change and writing up the receipt when she says, “You cra’t?” I looked at her stupidly. I just didn’t get it. So, she said louder, “You cra’t?” Maybe she doesn’t have teeth and that’s why I couldn’t understander her. I still didn’t get it, but I knew I had to say something or Dave was going to say “she doesn’t hear well.” Normally that helps me out but in this case I just knew the lady was going to yell at me. So, I said sure. And she said “Well, we got cra’t in the back room on Tuesday and Thursday morning, wit coffee and the ladies are real nice.”

So here we are in the overflow, which means we are up against the trees near the road (State Hwy 95), behind the garbage bins. It’s very private, sort of like camping.

As soon as we got here the pressure regulator on the water inlet broke. Poop. Once again, Davey saved the day. The new part is on order. We get excited about not knowing what is coming around the corner of the next day. But, it is not always immediately positive. Living in the ‘Bird is not the simple life of “Travels with Charlie.” On the other hand, I’ll be Steinbeck never got into a pool with a sign posted that said, “If you have a problem with incontinence, please wear rubber pants.”

I’m finding that Ruby Boxcar, who wrote the ultimate guide to trailer park living that Rachel and Bake gave us, well, Ruby knows her stuff. We noticed that a lot of people in trailer/RV parks smoke. Ruby has directions for a cigarette butt Christmas tree that is unique if nothing else.

Love to all,

Sam