Happy Thanksgiving! And yes, I am giving thanks for this past amazing week and all the incredibly kind and generous people in my life — new friends and old. It hasn’t been an easy week, but starting over with a completely new way of life never is. The biggest problem has been the cold at night, which I will explain in agonizing detail another time. The next problem was power. Getting my laptop charged up so I could keep you posted was a challenge that took the entire week to overcome. (Thanks to the generosity of people I’ve never met until yesterday, I now have a minimal solar setup and should be able to post something here every day. Thank you, Jay and Margie!)
The first day was cold and grey. I didn’t quite know what to do with myself after I woke up (shivering) so I went around the campsite to introduce myself. First up, I interrupted a young couple in a trailer who appeared to be having a serious conversation. They were nice but clearly had other things on their minds.
So I went to the next van where a distraught Lesa quickly wiped her eyes and confessed to being overwhelmed by clutter as she sat in what appeared to me to be a neat, well-organized little living space. We hit it off and she invited me for dinner that night.
I greeted Bob Wells, our fearless leader, and his beloved old hound, Homer. I talked for a while with Jeff, a lanky man in his 40s who talked of working for the summer at Meteor Crater, one of the locations for one of my favorite movies, Star Man, with Jeff Bridges. Now I want to see it again.
Trish, who was camping in her compact car, came over to offer a friendly hello, and Judy, with whom I’d bonded over toilet techniques and ex-husbands in Flagstaff last summer, gave me a huge hug.
The day went fast. Lesa offered to take me on a tour of Quartzsite, five miles away, and off we went in La Vanne. We drove slowly down the two main drags, where bricks and mortar stores were crowded by vendors in tents selling anything and everything an RVer could want. Lesa showed me where to get water and a shower, and where to buy the best meat. And she showed me the infamous book store, where a certain proprietor is known to preside in the buff. (We did not go inside, but I certainly plan to soon — for your edification, of course.)
Back at camp, Lesa headed back to her van and I parked my own. Donna and her husband Mark offered a warm welcome with soup but I politely declined due to my previous engagement for dinner with Lesa (which was delicious.)
Everyone seemed to be concerned about the forecast of rain for the next two days. We would all be stuck inside our tiny homes for the duration and, it was hinted, we wouldn’t like it.
How right they were.
[To be continued…]
