Tag Archive for: #iamwriting

Uncharted Territory

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The National Aeronautics and Space Administration (NASA) released a statement this past week that for the first time in five months, Voyager 1 is returning usable data about the status of its onboard engineering systems. The next step is to work out the kinks so that the probe starts sending scientific data again.

In essence, Voyager 1 has gone rogue for months on end.

I can relate.

Credit: NASA/JPL-Caltech

A journalist reported that Voyager 1 and 2 are “currently venturing through uncharted cosmic territory along the outer reaches of the solar system.”

For those of you unfamiliar with the twin spacecraft, they are the only vehicles to ever travel through interstellar space, the space between the stars.

The space between the stars…just writing the words is mind-boggling.

Back in 2003, Brad and I took our first major adventure in our motorhome with our kids, daughter, Kyle, and son Ian. They were eleven and nine at the time, and we were just three years into our grief journey after losing our daughter, Claire.

During the trip, I was reading Undaunted Courage, written by Stephen E. Ambrose, about Lewis and Clark’s Corps of Discovery journey. Amazingly, our travels paralleled my progress in reading about their adventures in the book. I would share passages in the tome with Brad and the kids, including the quote from Meriwether Lewis, “It is through the untamed wilderness that we find our own wildness, embracing the freedom that arises from charting new territories.”

The motorhome came with a pair of walkie-talkies, which came in handy when the kids would venture off to explore a campground. As this was pre-cell phone days, we could touch base with the kids or call them home for dinner. One evening, while staying at Custer State Park, Ian took our chocolate Labrador Retriever, Ginger, off for a walk. Ian was gone for quite a while, and the sun was beginning to set, a chill settling in the air. I radioed Ian up and asked if he was okay. It took a minute for him to respond, my bereaved mom’s heart picking up beats in anticipation of his radioing back in.

Finally, I heard his young voice squawk over the transceiver. “Yeppers. Just in uncharted territory.”

Brad and I have been in uncharted territory ever since Claire left us on July 6, 2000. There’s no guide to the universe of grief, despite the efforts of our mission team to help direct us back to beaming the status of our operational systems. Sometimes we felt like Lewis and Clark, venturing into the unknown. Other times, much like Voyager 1, reality felt like a zillion miles away.

But somehow we’ve managed to navigate our way on this journey, together.

Our travels, just as in life, require a lot of patience, understanding, empathy, compatibility, and soul-baring communication.

It is through our adventures into the “untamed wilderness” that we’ve come to embrace the freedom of discovering and rediscovering our own “wildness” and zest for exploration.

And just like that little lost Voyager 1, we’re back on track, grateful for our team of friends and family, supporting and guiding us along the way.

We hope that you’ve enjoyed learning about our travels, and hopefully have inspired you to venture on to your own uncharted territories.

Status Report

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Project Name: Arizona Adventures

Project Managers: Brad and Julie Rubini

Project Dates: February 15-March 15

Overall Project Status: Overcoming Challenges 

I’ve struggled with social media for some time…I mean nobody’s life can be that perfect, right?

The same holds true in my own. I mean, I’m living many people’s dream…taking off in a beautiful motorhome, traveling the country with my life partner, experiencing sights and adventures that touch my soul to the core.

I get the fact that any negative experiences, challenges, or struggles can’t even begin to compare with what many people face every day. But then, not everyone has experienced the ultimate loss of a child as we have, so it rather puts my life of extremes into perspective. Life came all too much into perspective after our daughter Claire’s death. Since, Brad and I choose to live, really live…no holds barred.

So on one hand what I’m about to offer to you might be considered whining given our luxurious mode of cross-country travel. On the other, I hope that what you gain from it is how these two “project managers” work together to overcome the challenges. Most of all, that this post reflects our gratitude for our support system to help us through.

Schedule: Progress Halted

First and foremost, Brad suddenly lost his hearing in his left ear several weeks ago. One day here, the next gone. We’re grateful for the access to healthcare while on the road. His hearing is slightly improved after a round of serious steroids, but not completely back. He is following up with his doctor back home for care.

We’ve had a variety of mechanical issues, some avoidable, some, well, not so much. Since being on the road, we’ve had broken slides in the back (repaired in Idaho thanks to Brad’s stepbrother, Michael), replaced in Tucson, then replaced again two days later when the new system didn’t work properly. Our dryer simply stopped. (I know, I know. We have a dryer in this thing?) Our electricity was wonky at our site in Casa Grande. One of the tires on the Jeep has a slow leak. A stone kicked up and cracked our windshield. The same one we replaced last year. And so it goes…

But the real topper was to come back from a full-day visit with our friends Tom and Margo Herman in Phoenix to see a new water feature in our camp site…water was streaming out of the base of the motorhome. Maybe streaming is too gentle a word. More like pouring.

It doesn’t really matter how it happened in this story. What’s important, just like the other challenges, was what happened after. We both jumped into action. We cut off the source of the water, I grabbed all of our extra towels, Brad high-tailed it to the local Home Depot to get some industrial fans. I’m not going to lie…I shed a few tears. I wanted to call someone for empathy, but the best person for the call is no longer of this earth. My friend and “second” mom, Barb Falzone, a bereaved parent as well, would have said (as she did years ago following our basement flood six months after Claire died), “it just doesn’t matter as much now as it would have before, right?”

Exactly.

Forecast: Upward Trend

On the upside, the display of all of our items stored in our bays underneath the coach, encouraged conversations with our neighbors, Lisa and Bruce, from Nova Scotia. We hosted them for margaritas and fajitas one night, they reciprocated by having us over for cocktails another evening. They loved Luna, and Lisa made this adorable blanket for our sweet girl. We have an open invitation to visit them, and I imagine we’ll do just that!

Hanging with Lisa and Bruce. Luna and her blankie.

Through this all, we had wonderful times and heart-felt conversations with Margo and Tom. We hosted them for a day at our campground, playing pickleball and hitting the pool. We traveled up north to their lovely home numerous times, and they were kind to allow us to stay overnight so as not to trek the hour+ drive each way. Our fun adventures included a few dinners out, Margo and I getting pampered with haircuts and pedis, and oh yeah, getting kicked off of a golf course.

Kicked off a golf course? What??? Yep. First time for everything. And we didn’t even do anything wrong, trust me. Brad belongs to a golf program where a member of a private club agrees to host us, as in play with us, not pay for us. A member of Wildfire Golf Club in Scottsdale was to host us…but he didn’t show up. He not only didn’t show up, but he suggested another guest who reached out to him join us. So, the four of us unattended guests played five holes, keeping pace with the group in front of us, fixing our divots (and those of others), and generally behaving ourselves. On the sixth tee, an employee was directed to usher us off of the private Faldo course and on to the semi-private Palmer Course.

Needless to say, I didn’t buy the shirt I admired in the pro shop, and I wouldn’t recommend this course to anyone.

We laughed about the situation after…we laughed a lot with Margo and Tom. Their company helped us tremendously through our trials and tribulations in Phoenix.

Pickleball with Margo and Tom. 

We also managed to find water in the Phoenix area to paddle on. Our outing on beautiful Canyon Lake was restorative. The waterfowl were amazing, and saw a few bass avoiding the fishermen in the coves.

Paddling Canyon Lake.

We hiked South Mountain with Margo and Tom, and hit a few trails nearer our campground in Casa Grande. Luna had a blast as well, and we all managed to avoid snakes.

Mountain near Casa Grande.

One of the highlights of our time in Phoenix was connecting with our dear friends Gretchen and Rick from Toledo. Along with Rick’s daughter, Emily, we took in a Cleveland Guardians spring training game. We also met up with them at the Indian Fair & Market at the Heard Museum. I bought a beautiful bracelet, enchanted by the artist’s stories.

Cleveland Guardians Spring Training Game.

Finally, we took in the Tucson Festival of Books. Brad went to a panel with mystery writer C. J. Box, and I attended a session with my favorite middle-grade author, Kate DiCamillo. I met Kate several years ago at the Cincinnati Books by the Banks, and if the universe has anything to say about it, Kate will come visit Claire’s Day some year.

Mystery writer C. J. Box and Middle-Grade Author Kate DiCamillo.

Status Report Summary:

So, after a series of setbacks, countered with excellent adventures together, and with friends, we are enjoying the last few weeks of our travels. As we make our way back home, we try to relish the moments as our time on the road draws to an end. And pray nothing else happens.

But if it does, we’re ready and able to handle it.

Cheers!

Celebrating meeting 40 years ago on St. Patty’s Day!

Roots

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The kayaks are strapped back on to the top of our Jeep. Bikes are in place on the rack attached to the hitch. Knick-knacks are tucked in cupboards. The shoe bin filled with footwear to fit the occasion, whether hiking, kayaking or golfing, is stashed in the closet. The Captain’s chair and co-pilot seat are turned around to the front-facing position. Furniture is secured, cupboards and sliding pocket doors all closed tight.

Everything is ready to roll, on to our next destination.

Everything that is, except my heart.

When we first settled into our rented lot at the Motorcoach Country Club RV Resort in Indio, I noticed the owner had three empty flower pots just waiting to be filled. I visited a local nursery and bought enough annuals to bring life to them. My plan was to buy a pot to transfer them to once we were ready to get back on the road, which I did.

As I gently tugged the flowers out of the planters, I was amazed at how much they grew in the six weeks we’ve been here. I couldn’t get over how deep the roots had dug into the California soil I scrapped together when I first planted them. With just the right amount of water, sun and tender-loving care, the geranium, petunias and snapdragons  flourished. My transplants found a new home.

I feel exactly the same.

Staying here at this little slice of heaven in the California desert for this long has allowed us to grow our own roots. And with the fresh air, sun and the gentle breezes of new friendships, we’ve flourished too. We’ve been blessed to share stories, journeys, and heartbreaks with these new friends. These new friends have hosted us for dinner, golf, and wine tastings. These new friends have taken walks with us, gotten us into the pool for water aerobics, presented us with thoughtful gifts.

Desert Adventures with Chuck and Dyan

Our time here in the desert began with getting together with friends we made last year in Hilton Head. Chuck and Dyan love adventures as much as we do, and loved experiencing the Salton Sea area together. We had a blast exploring Temecula Valley, the wine country just 90 minutes over the San Jacinto Mountains. We especially enjoyed Doffo Wines and the display of over 200 motorcycles and scooters collected by the owner, Marcello. We spent our last evening in town, Valentine’s Day, enjoying dinner with the two of them, bringing our time together full circle.  Life is always fun with a little bit of Chuck and Dyan sprinkled in!

Photo credit: Doffo Wines

Kind neighbors Chris and Alan

Our first clue as to how special the residents at Motorcoach Country Club RV resort was while hosting our Toledo friends Joe and Amy Zavac for a visit. Our neighbors, Chris and Alan, brought over an outdoor lamp to add more light to our patio. How thoughtful is that? This Colorado-based couple also hosted us for a fun, quaint Super Bowl gathering, and even offered to help out with Luna while we were off on a day-long adventure.

Pasta and Game Night with John and Christine

Speaking of thoughtful, when meeting Christine and John McCusker at a dinner at the Motorcoach club house, Christine observed I wasn’t eating bread. When I shared that I was gluten intolerant, several days later, Christine gifted me with two loaves of gluten free bread made at a local bakery. I returned the favor with giving this former private school owner with a copy of my biography of Virginia Hamilton. This lovely couple hosted us for a delicious homemade pasta dinner, Temecula wine and Rumikub. We all walked away as winners, in more ways than one.

Golf with the Ladies

The resort has a fun 18 hole Par 3 course. I had the opportunity to play with the ladies several times, including the first with Nancy Kossman, who hails from Missouri. Nancy and I connected from the start, and enjoyed going out to lunch and walking together.

When I played with the other group of ladies, Betty announced, “I’m not a very good golfer, but I’m a lot of fun.” Fun was definitely had with Kim, Jo, Betty and her sidekick, Betty Boop. It’s always a good thing when you laugh so hard on the course that you find yourself looking for the nearest bathroom.

PGA West friends Renee and Fred

Brad joined a golf program which allows us to play on private courses with members willing to host us. Fred and Renee Dockweiler were incredibly kind to not only host us, but to be willing to reschedule when we came down with a stomach bug. We connected during our first round at the PGA West Weiskopf course. It was a thrill for me to play with all single-digit handicap golfers. I’ve got 9 strokes to join the ranks, but Fred and Renee were both incredibly encouraging. We met up for dinner at Okura Sushi one night, and Renee hosted us several days later (as Fred was out of town) at the PGA West Stadium course, home of the AT&T PGA tournament. We hope to have Renee and Fred visit us in Toledo, as Fred has plans to travel our way on business.

And the list goes on…

I’m not so good with carting my phone with me everywhere, much less taking pictures when I do. I will hold on to the special memories of a Motorcoach CC resident, Swanee, who became my new “publicity rep” after sharing our story and my work with her. Swanee attended a satellite campus of Antioch College, where Virginia Hamilton attended, so I gifted her with my biography of this amazing writer.

We had the pleasure of golfing with several other couples and gentlemen during our stay…including Rob and Margaret and Troy and Sue at Mountain View Country Club. Thank you all for making our time all the more special. Ugh…I could go on and on, from the many people we met on our daily walks with Luna, to folks we visited with on our many adventures.

So yes, we’re packed up and ready to go on to the next chapter, but my heart is a little sad as we leave this desert oasis.

Often friends met on the road remain as such.

But, I have a feeling that with the right amount of time and attention, just like my new flowers, the roots of friendship established here in the California desert will grow deeper.

 

 

It’s coming on Christmas…a message of hope

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It’s coming on Christmas

They’re cutting down trees

They’re putting up reindeer 

Singing songs of joy and peace

Oh, I wish I had a river I could skate away on...

So begins “River” written by Joni Mitchell.

It’s a “Christmas song for people who are lonely at Christmas time,” Joni said in an interview in 2021.

I fell in love with Robert Downey Jr’s rendition of this classic on the Ally McBeal: A Very Ally Christmas album, which came out in 1999.

Our daughter Claire LOVED the album’s feature artist, Vonda Shepard. She loved to sing along with many of the artist’s songs, preferring LOUD renditions, and solo. Fun memory of our little reader gone too soon.

“River” takes me back to that first Christmas in 2000 without Claire. So, so hard.

There were many times that all I wanted was to find a river I could skate away on.

Joni Mitchell’s version came on the radio yesterday morning, as I was watching a river of rain flow through our campground outside of Santa Cruz, California.

But it don’t snow here

It stays pretty green

While listening, really listening to the lyrics, the melody had its own meaning in my life. To me, the song didn’t represent loneliness. It reflected my journey through grief.

At some point in those early, hard years, I realized I no longer needed a river to skate away on.

I figured out that no matter how long that river was, I wasn’t going to be able to skate away to escape my pain.

What I really needed was a paddle to navigate the waters of grief, to face all of the emotions I was experiencing.

I wish I had a river so long

I would teach my feet to fly

Through the love and support of Brad, our kids, Kyle and Ian, family, friends, and a whole community, I paddled like hell, to the other side. They all taught my feet to fly, and my broken heart to soar.

As more time passed, I learned to toss the paddle aside and just let go. To let the current and tides take me wherever I was meant to be.

Far from being adrift, I feel as though I’ve let the shore come to me. I feel anchored.

I hope that if you are reading this, and dealing with grief in any form, that my message might offer a bit of hope.

It’s okay if you feel like you need a river to skate away on. I feel you.

It’s okay if you are feeling sad, angry, lonely or really pissed off especially during this time of year. I’ve been there.

I pray that life presents you with the guidance to steer you in the right direction.

And once you get there, that you can just let go.

It’s coming on Christmas

They’re cutting down trees

They’re putting up reindeer 

Singing songs of joy and peace

 

Photo credits: In order; BarbaraALane, Hans, and Starflames, Pixabay

 

 

 

Finding Nature’s Peace in Yosemite

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I’m still struggling to come up with the words to describe our experiences in Yosemite National Park.

Perhaps these, from the “Father of the National Parks,” John Muir, say it best.

“Climb the mountains and get their good tidings. Nature’s peace will flow into you as sunshine into trees.”

Yosemite Valley

The view on the left was the first Brad and I witnessed of the Yosemite Valley from Big Oak Flat Road. Tears stung my eyes, taking in the grandeur of it all. The view of the iconic El Capitan and Half Dome in the distance with the Merced River winding along the base of the valley is breathtaking.

As we drove further along the route, Bridalveil Fall looms in the distance, the light winter stream of water originating in Ostrander Lake (ten miles south) cascading down the mountain. In the fall, the winds carry the water sideways, creating a veil-like appearance.

Native Americans call the falls Pohono, meaning “Spirit of the Puffing Wind.”

Tunnel View

My younger brother Gordie (eight-years my junior…this comes into play later in the post) visited Yosemite with his wife Debbie several years ago. Gordie served as tour guide for our initial expeditions, strongly recommending that we take in the Tunnel View, which the photographer Ansel Adams made famous.

The view is spectacular exiting the Wawona Tunnel off State Route 41.

Just as my words could not suffice, neither could any of our pictures. This shot, found on Yosemite.com captures the incredible viewpoint.Tunnel View Yosemite

Photo credit: Yosemite.com

Vernal Fall

So this is where younger brother Gordie comes back into the story. He recommended the Yosemite Falls trail. The hike is the longest and most strenuous in the park…and can take up to eight hours to hike. I think Gordie forgets our age difference sometimes. But, in comparison, the Vernal Fall/Nevada Fall hike seemed like it would be doable.

I’m kind of glad I didn’t research the trail too much before our hike. I discovered after our hike that Backpacker magazine rates the Mist Trail as one of the 10 most dangerous hikes. The trail can be slippery, but that’s not the real issue. Hikers can be idiots sometimes, not paying attention to barriers or understanding the power of the Merced River, which flows below both falls.

Having offered this, I would not discourage anyone from considering hiking the trail. Just be smart. And prepared.

The hike lulls you into a false sense of security with its fairly leisurely .08 mile hike to the footbridge at the base of the falls. Note the chart below. The start of the hike winds you gradually up the trail, then seems to take a vertical leap up to the top of the falls for the the remaining 1.2 miles.

Did I mention there were over 600 steps leading to the top?

I must admit to a bit of whining as we hoisted ourselves up the trail. It took a bunch of hits of water (H2O as Brad kept reminding me) and the site of young whippersnapper kids behind us nearly skipping up the steps to keep me going.

It was all worth it…

The Mist Trail and John Muir Trail overlaid side by side

Nevada Fall

Okay, so look back at that graphic above. Note how much steeper the trail gets to the top of Nevada Fall.

Much steeper.

Brad and I were at an impasse. Despite my Pilates/yoga/walking/biking/kayaking/golfing fitness level, my quads and calves were screaming at me. And they weren’t screaming for more…

Brad, on the other hand, was up for the challenge. More whining ensued. More deals were being made.

Did I mention we were the oldest hikers on the trail?

Thank goodness for a much younger hiker who seemed to be breezing his way back down the Nevada Fall trail.  He informed us that by hiking up a bit we’d find an outcropping that we could get a great view of the falls without hiking to the top. I could have kissed him.

Note my happy face below.

Two days later I’m still sore.

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Lower Yosemite Falls Trail

The next day we ventured back into the park from our campground about an hour away. We hit Yosemite Village, first stop: the Welcome Center. Probably just as well we didn’t go there the first day, for when I asked the young forester about hikes, he offered the Lower Yosemite Falls Trail and the Cook’s Meadow trail.

When I told the forester that we’d hiked the Vernal Fall trail and to the base of Nevada Falls the day before, he raised his eyebrows in surprise and suggested that we might want to also consider the Valley Loop Trail, which although relatively flat, hikers can go up to 11.5 miles on.

After a stop at the Ansel Adams gallery and the Yosemite Museum, we roamed the Lower Yosemite Falls trail, enjoyed our packed picnic lunch, then ventured on.

 Mirror Lake Trail

This easy trail runs along Tenaya Creek and was quiet and peaceful. Most visitors opt for the paved trail that heads back to the lake (which is more like a pond this time of year), so we were pretty much roaming the woods among the boulders on our own for the two-mile hike.

Our feet and legs had just enough from the two days of hiking, so we didn’t venture further on the Valley Loop Trail.

Next time…

The Ahwahnee Hotel

Our last stop was the beautiful Ahwahnee Hotel built in the 192o’s for wealthy clientele. One look at the room rates and Brad and I observed that not much has changed over the years. It was fun people-watching in the lobby during our brief stop. Little sisters dressed in pajamas in the late afternoon, accompanied by grandfather to the Sweet Shop. Young couples gathered around the huge fireplace. Friends hanging out in the lobby bar, toasting one another.

Brad and I both agreed it would have been fun to grab a glass of wine to toast our visit, but the curvy hour-long road home awaited.

We also both agreed that we were done walking for the day, so caught one of the Yosemite complimentary shuttles back to our car in the Welcome Center parking lot. You can catch shuttles at many different locations at the park.

To wrap, Ansel Adams famously stated, “I knew my destiny when I first experienced Yosemite.”

As Brad and I both have had Yosemite on our bucket lists, it was our destiny to finally visit. Fate would have it that even though we traveled to the national park in December, although the Tioga Pass and the John Muir trail were closed for the winter, the weather was perfect. Snow in the distant mountains, but not on the roads. Cold in the mornings, but warm in the afternoons. Perfect hiking and exploring weather.

We highly encourage you to put it on your bucket list, and let “nature’s peace flow into you.”

 

 

 

 

Elemental

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The elements come into play on our travels, whether motoring from one locale to another, or while we are camped out for any period of time.

Such has been the case in traversing from Idaho to Oregon, and then from our stop in Bend to our destination along the coast, Coos Bay.

Our timing on both legs couldn’t have been better. We missed storms moving into Idaho after we left, and we jumped ahead of storms moving through the mountains outside of Bend as we made our way to the ocean.

Idaho Ready: What you need to know about the chain up law ...How to put tire chains on a semi-truckO

Photo credit: Idaho Transportation Department and Schneider Truck website

In the mountains, one is always at risk of snow and ice. The signs along the way, noting “Chains Required When Flashing” are a bit disconcerting. Chains help vehicles grab the ice and snow for traction. Kind of like crampons for huge trucks. Fortunately we never had the warning flashing lights, for we didn’t invest in chains.

We would have had to turn back.

On our travels from Bend to Coos Bay, Route 58 between Route 97 and State Highway 5 was an absolutely beautiful trek, with Odell Lake and the Willamette River running alongside. Willamette Pass was a little nerve-wracking, with a decent amount of snow on the ground. But the roads were clear and dry.

Here is a glimpse at how the elements came into play on our adventures in Oregon…

Fire

Any opportunity to jump into our kayaks and paddle is a blessing, and such was the case in Bend. The kind folks at the outfitter, Tumalo Creek, directed us to a nice launching dock on the Deschutes River. They instructed us to paddle our way a couple of miles up river, then enjoy the current on the way back.

So what does a fun paddle on the Deschutes have to do with fire? In 1990, the Awbrey Hall Fire burned along the western flank of the city, jumping three major highways and destroying 22 homes and 3500 acres. Had we been able to continue paddling up river, we would have been near the Deschutes River Woods division that suffered the most damage.

We had a lovely evening catching up with a high school friend of Brad’s, Eric Davenport and his wife, Lynn. We visited them over ten years ago while traveling through Bend with our kids. The years dropped away as we hiked their property with Eric. In the distance, the view was hazy, from prescribed fires set to manage the forests. The photo below is from a Facebook page keeping residents advised of both controlled burns and wildfires.

After the hike we enjoyed a delicious dinner prepared by Eric, then warmed by their Russian fireplace in the center of their beautiful open family room/kitchen. The fireplace is highly efficient and beautiful. I sat on the hearth for a bit…it was quite toasty. The fun evening ended entirely too soon, but we were leaving early the next morning for Coos Bay.

Air

We’ve been blessed to be hunkering down at the Sun Outdoors Campground in Coos Bay. Our site is just 50 yards from the beach and ocean. It has rained the entire time we’ve been here, and the winds have been a gusting! The motorhome is shaking as I’m writing this, the winds howling up to 45 miles an hour.

We haven’t let the stationery front stop our fun…enjoying hikes on the beach in the mornings with Luna, and exploring the towns and coast over the last few days. We even took in a fun “Wine Walk” sponsored by the local Rotary Club in Coos Bay.

But, oh that wind. And Rain! This photo doesn’t nearly capture how angry the elements seem to be…the air howling, the waves crashing, the sand and rain drops pelting our skin. But hey, it could be snowing, right?

Water 

I never tire of being by water. The ocean, especially in storms, takes water to a whole different level. We marveled at a brave paddle boarder navigating the waves in a cove near our campground. The waves crashing against rocks at Cape Arago State Park at the tail-end of Route 540 were mesmerizing.

But, water can be deadly. We learned about King Tides, which occur along the Oregon coast when the Earth, sun, and moon are all aligned. The huge tidal waves occur about once a month…we just missed them when we arrived. A woman we met on the beach intrigued us with stories of people being swept out to sea from king tides. Note to self…don’t turn your back on the water during king tides. Yikes.

Earth

From water to earth…we were fascinated by the huge Bull Kelp that washed up on the beach near the campground. We could see the “holdfasts” that attach to submerged rocks out in the ocean. They reminded me of characters in the Pirates of the Caribbean! The stranded jelly fish always make me a bit sad…and we saw our fair share on the beach as a result of the rollicking tides. Luna was wise to avoid them on our beach hikes.

The last picture, of the Stellar, or Northern Sea Lions hanging out on the rock and in the waters along the coast of Cape Arango State Park, has a story. Or rather, what you don’t see in the picture offers story.

The tide was coming in as we watched the sea lions, captivated by their defiance of the force of water. The sea creatures were barking and crying away…trying to avoid losing their position on the rock to the hundreds waiting in the water. I thought it was a territorial thing, until I looked to where they kept casting their gaze.

There, on a rock below them, still, motionless was another Stellar sea lion. This creature did not move for the fifteen minutes we stood and watched. But the other sea lions did, seemingly agitated, moving back and forth on that rock, looking to the sea, then back to their newly departed friend.

Through my experiences and research in the past, I knew in my heart what was going on.

I looked up at Brad with tears in my eyes and said, “I think they are grieving.”

Brad squeezed my hand and gave me a big hug.

A touching end to adventures that provided us with many goosebump moments among the elements.

 

Homeful

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Home*ful: adjective: having a place to live, not homeless. 2. enjoying time together in a home.

This word is not quite an official entry in any dictionary, but it suits our experiences in Salt Lake City as well as our visit with family in Caldwell, Idaho.

I’ll start with the beginnings of our adventures in the Mormon holy land. Brad and I went out to dinner at an awesome restaurant in downtown, just ten minutes from our campground. Zest Kitchen and Bar was an excellent choice, all-organic and gluten free. Yum. The tables were quite close to one another, and Brad and I began a conversation with four ladies sitting next to us. We asked the group what they might recommend to do in the area.

Their response? Go to Park City.

As a former employee of the Toledo Convention and Visitors Bureau, it made me sad that a resident of any given city suggests that there was so little to do in their hometown, that they would recommend driving an hour away for entertainment.

It made me reflect on what home really means. And how one should have pride in their hometown.

And it made us bound and determined to discover the best of this city, despite the recommendation to go elsewhere. Here is what we discovered about the area, our home for six days.

The Great Salt Lake

We had an amazing time kayaking on the largest salt lake in the western hemisphere. The air temperature was maybe 50 degrees. I’m not sure what the water temperature was, and glad we didn’t find out. We had the lake to ourselves, as we paddled from the marina at the Great Salt Lake State Park out into the open waters. We noticed that kayaking on the water felt more buoyant due to the lake’s composition.

We saw brine shrimp in the lake, which are harvested from October 1st through January 31st. This harvest industry provides anywhere from ten to fifty million dollars to the area. To learn more about the harvests, look here.

The Tabernacle Choir

I still get chills thinking about our experience in seeing the Tabernacle Choir live, on a chilly, damp Sunday morning. I’d done my research before our visit, and learned that although you can take in organ recital rehearsals and performances throughout the week, the choir concerts are on Sunday mornings. Doors open at 8:30, doors close at 9:15, thirty-minute performance happens at 9:30. Parking is free in downtown on Sundays. Perfect.

When we arrived,  several hospitable young Mormon girls greeted and directed us to the balcony for the best acoustics. A staff photographer approached us during the rehearsal session and informed us that we had chosen the absolutely best seats.

The Tabernacle reminds me of something right out of the Wizard of Oz, expecting the wizard to appear from behind the huge pipe organ at any minute. The chorus of 360 voices was indescribable. All of the songs, and the brief message, were about gratitude. Check out the performance of Music & The Spoken Word.

Family Search

So, while in the Tabernacle, a kind Mormon woman reached out to me and we spoke of our desire to learn more about the city. She didn’t recommend we go to Park City. She suggested we visit the Family Search Library and conduct genealogy research. A young man named Kyle helped me navigate the site, and was incredibly empathetic as I included information on loved ones I’ve lost. Tears came in both our eyes as I included our daughter Claire, my siblings Karen and Kevin, my parents, my beloved Aunt Carol and my special Uncle Leon.

I felt a great sense of home as I discovered relatives I never knew about. I’d highly recommend creating your own account online and learning more about your ancestry.

Ensign Peak 

Two days after arriving in the area, Brigham Young and other leaders hiked up to this peak and envisioned the layout of the city. The drive up steep hills to the peak was a treat, the Capitol Building looming at the top. We timed our visit nearly perfectly, taking in the sunset and afterglow.

We met a young woman, Krista, along with her adorable little husky, Balto at the top. A graduate of The Ohio State University, we learned she moved to California after graduation, working remotely. After sharing common travel experiences, she proclaimed that she felt she should have been born into our family, with our wanderlust.

We’ve since connected on Instagram, and I have a feeling this won’t be the last we see of this young traveler.

Park City

Ok, so we figured we had to check Park City out. Unfortunately, the trail we intended to hike on was closed for the season. The holiday skiers had little snow. And the shops were overpriced, with local stores getting pushed out by chains. But, it was quaint, and the Wasatch Mountains were beautiful.

Still not a highlight I would recommend if I lived in Salt Lake City. Just sayin’.

Jordan River Trail

Okay, so this is where we experienced the polar opposite of Homeful.

The Jordan River Trail apparently offers over 60 miles of paved trails in Salt Lake City and beyond. We only witnessed a mile or so, as we attempted to make our way to a dog park to let Luna off-leash. Where we intended to walk was blocked off, due to a number of homeless people. It broke my heart to see the squalor, the trash, the “homes” made out of tarps, grocery carts, anything to provide shelter. More so, it hurt to see young men, unable to even look me in the face, strung out, just waiting for their next fix. Or the woman, who when we politely excused ourselves to pass her on the sidewalk, called out to us as we passed, “Sorry, you get a little slower after 60.”

If she only knew.

Out of respect, I didn’t take any pictures of those we saw in the parks, the streets. But the memories haunt me.

I can’t even imagine not having a home.

Caldwell, Idaho

So, after feeling a little lost among the homeless, we felt totally embraced by Brad’s stepbrother Michael, and his fiancée, Melissa, at their home in Caldwell, Idaho.

We were blessed to be included in their Friendsgiving celebration. We loved meeting their variety of friends, and enjoyed lively conversations. Michael roasted/smoked the turkey on the outside grill, and we all contributed side dishes to the feast. Their dogs Lucy and McKeever added to the fun throughout the weekend.

We took in a few of the Snake River Valley wineries in the area, including Hat Ranch, Huston, and Koenig.

Friday evening we walked around downtown Caldwell, taking in their wonderful holiday light display along Indian Creek, followed by a wonderful dinner at Grit restaurant.

Our travels in Salt Lake City and Idaho left us feeling grateful…for new adventures, family, new friends and most of all, HOME.

 

Trip to the Mother Ship

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Red Bay.

It sounds like a spice, or for those in Florida currently, a description of the coast lines getting hit with Red tide.

But, for every Tiffin motorhome owner, Red Bay means home. As in Sweet Alabama home.

In 1941, Alex Tiffin opened Tiffin Supply Company in this little town in northern Alabama. Throw a stick and you’re in neighboring Mississippi. The store carried any and every thing one needed to build a home. The family business expanded in 1965, with the purchase of a cotton gin. Alex’s son, Bob, took to the management of the operation like a fish takes to water.

Tiffin Supply provided materials to a business that came to town that manufactured recreational vehicles. The business folded and the Tiffin family seized the opportunity to hang another shingle with their name on it. Tiffin Motorhomes was established in 1972.

A 1984 Tiffin Allegro bus. Credit: Tiffin Motorhomes Facebook

Bob Tiffin summed up the competition and determined he wanted to build a better product, one that would stand the test of time. Other RVs were being made out of fiberglass and aluminum. Bob built his Tiffins on a much more durable steel chassis.

Tiffin started with making just two coaches a day. Now the company makes thousands of their hand-crafted, quality motorhomes every year. The company builds both gas as well as diesel fueled motorhomes, with models ranging from smaller 25-foot Class C vehicles, all the way up to 45 foot Class A motorhomes. Check out their models here.

Check out this beautiful 2023 Tiffin Zephyr. Photo credit: Tiffin website

Bob’s sons are now involved in the business, which was bought out by Thor Industries in 2020.The company has stated that they intend to remain in little Red Bay, Alabama, population 3200, give or take. Moving the company out of the area would be devastating to the community.

What Bob Tiffin began has exploded into a whole cottage industry, with service providers ranging from garages that do mechanical repairs, paint shops, detailing mobile vans, and even businesses that will custom make new cabinetry and update and replace furniture.

The Tiffin company has an excellent warranty program, so many travelers to the small town stay in graveled make-do parking lots and head out first thing every morning to get in line for warranty service. For those of us with vehicles that are out of warranty, Red Bay is still the place to come for repairs. Many of the off-shoot business owners and mechanics are former Tiffin employees. They know these coaches inside and out.

We had a whole laundry list of items that were beyond our mechanical abilities, and had absolutely no clue how to figure out which businesses in Red Bay to tackle the repairs. We read about owners who were spending several weeks scheduling their various appointments. We didn’t have that kind of time frame to work with. So, April Fowler of Happy Host RV Concierge to the rescue! April contacted service providers on our behalf, and stacked our appointments within a four-day window. Davidson RV did a fantastic job with most of our repairs, and had a comfortable, dog-friendly lounge for us to work from. The crew wanted to adopt Luna as their shop dog!

On day 2 of our repairs, we snuck in a tour of the main Tiffin manufacturing plant in Red Bay. No cameras were allowed, so I just had to stamp the imprint of the sight of all the workers diligently laboring at their jobs in my memory banks. From custom-made wood pieces for the cabinetry, to all the color-coded wires that make up the three miles of wiring in each coach, to seeing a unit nearly complete at the end of all the processes, it was amazing.

Our last stop involved getting our cracked windshield replaced. The repair entailed nearly 5 hours of work in the repair shop, then letting the seal settle overnight. I wish I took a picture of the huge garage from the inside of our coach. I can now add sleeping overnight in a service garage to my list of life experiences. We slept well, and were protected from the massive rain storm that pounded on their tin roof through the early morning hours.

We woke up early in time to open up the big garage doors and let our last provider in for a special touch to our coach.

The special paint job is a reflection of our love for our country and our shared joy in seeing all of her beauty.

With clear skies and bright sun filtering in from our new windshield, we left the Mother Ship.

One more step closer to home.

But before then…more adventures await in Blue Ridge, Georgia.

 

Touchstones

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My friend Rita had me at “Hey there traveler! Missing you and wondering where you will be the last couple weeks of January?”

Rita’s text couldn’t have come at a better time. I was feeling a little bit homesick. Rita and her husband Curt have been friends for nearly thirty years. We moved into our home at the end of our cul-de-sac soon after they had.  From flashlight tag and chasing fireflies to celebrating graduations together (literally!) our kids navigated their childhood as a unit.

When our oldest daughter, Claire, died, Rita was one of the first to help guide me on my path. I remember walking down the street together just days after, Rita holding onto my hand. She was a literal lifeline.

Rita was a tremendous help in getting Claire’s Day, our tribute to Claire established. Like so many angels who descended upon us during our most difficult hours, Curt and Rita were always there.

The kids moved on and out, as did Curt and Rita.

But the friendship remained.

So it ended up that we all got together at our stop in Port St. Lucie. The Motorcoach Resort St. Lucie West offered the nicest accommodations we’ve had so far on the trip. Our site included an outdoor living area complete with fireplace, fridge and comfy seating.

Brad and Luna hanging out on our site.

Curt and Rita stayed just five minutes up the way, in a nice Holiday Inn. Brad and I vied for best Uber rating in bringing them back and forth to the coach.

As they are both as adventuresome as we are, Julie the Cruise Director set to task in organizing activities for the long weekend.

We kicked off the reunion by sharing excellent Thai food and a bottle of wine at the Malakor Thai Cafe. Yummy.

The next day happened to be Brad’s birthday. His choice of how to spend his special day included kayaking then cooking up a steak dinner at our campsite. Curt and Rita were able to rent kayaks at the River Park Marina, where the owner Jackie was awesome. We were too busy paddling through the mangroves to take pictures, but trust me, it was the perfect start to our adventures.

Brad’s birthday dinner was perfect…steaks grilled by Brad and Curt, excellent salad and potatoes, yummy wine to accompany.

The next day’s forecast didn’t play out as expected. Instead of the sunny skies and warm temperatures we’d been enjoying, we woke up to clouds on Saturday.

But, we didn’t let that stop us as we ventured to Fort Pierce, strolled around and stumbled into their Saturday morning farmer’s market. We ventured to the little manatee education center, and then grabbed a bite to eat at Cobb’s Landing.

I’d rented a boat from Salty’s Water Sports, complete with personal instructions for operating the pontoon boat. We were told numerous times to make sure to follow the channel and to pay attention to the No Wake signs posted. This was manatee country. We were warned that the Coast Guard monitored the waters closely.

Note how Curt and Rita look concerned about what lies in store.

Sure enough, the Coast Guard takes their job seriously.

This unit pulled us over. Captain Brad was fortunately taking the warnings seriously. After a routine check, we were back merrily on our way. We witnessed dolphins chasing fish, and playing together in the water.

Photo credit: Tom van O0ssanen

Note, this is not the boat we rented. This is the 384 foot megayacht (I didn’t even realize there was such a term, and apparently Spell Check doesn’t either) owned by Eric Smith, the CEO of Harbor Freight. The Infinity is the largest motoryacht ever to materialize from a Dutch shipyard. It features seven decks, three pools and a yoga studio. I’d definitely feel like Namaste on this vessel.

We wrapped the weekend with a fun round of golf at The Saints Golf Course. We had a beautiful day on the challenging course. We even saw a few little gators.

As I write this several weekends after Curt and Rita’s visit, I find myself missing home once again.

But these fun memories serve as a touchstones for the rest of our journey.

On the Road Again

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Trucks rumble past, their trailers bumping on the rough road surface. A forklift keeps going in front of me, back and forth to service bays. Ironically, Jackson Brown belts out Running on Empty on the radio. I just try to keep breathing, slow inhales and exhales to calm myself as well as our 65 lb. Yellow Lab, Luna, who has decided to become a lap dog, propping half of her load on me, panting away. Brad is outside with the technician, who skillfully manages to pump nearly 70 pounds of air pressure into the driver’s side drive axle tires.

Kind of important to have enough air in your tires.

So begins our first road trip, or rather, return to the road trip, in a motorhome. Our journey really didn’t start with the dishwasher that didn’t run properly (I know, I know, a dishwasher, really???) overnight, or the toilet that refused to flush, the car that didn’t want to engage in neutral to tow properly, the under-inflated tires, or even, to add insult to injury, the door that took some creative manipulation of the hinge to get it to close.

Our journey began over twenty years ago, when after experiencing the death of our oldest daughter, Claire, my husband Brad, and I decided to up the ante in our quest to get our kids to all 50 states. We bought our first motorhome. And we completed our mission.

Memories of those trips often pop up in my brain feed, but even more so since contemplating getting back on the road. I’ll never forget all the purple, Claire’s favorite color, we witnessed on our maiden voyage in 2003, as we traveled to Yellowstone, the Tetons, and Glacier National Park. Those three weeks together as a family, just three years out from when we last said goodbye to Claire, set us on a path of truly living, not merely surviving.

I read Undaunted Courage by Stephen E. Ambrose on our travels, our trip often a reflection of the text. I remember a reference to uncharted territory in the book, which I shared with Brad and the kids. Later that evening, while Ian was walking our dog, Ginger, I got a little nervous about how long young Ian was gone. I used the walkie talkies that came with the unit and radioed him, “Where are you? Are you okay?” His response, “We’re in uncharted territory.”

We’ll also never forget our daughter Kyle looking out on the rolling hills of Kansas, dark shadows cast on the green forests. She couldn’t figure out that the shadows were from the clouds. She was also very concerned about where the cows slept at night, bless her heart.

That motorhome continued to serve us well through road trips, college tailgate parties, and a few empty nest adventures, up until our last to Northern Michigan just months before Ginger’s journey was over.

So here we are, back on the road again, setting out to explore areas of this country we missed the first time around, creating new memories, all the while looking back on those from the past.

I feel incredibly blessed to have these experiences with Brad, in a beautiful, new-to-us motorhome. I hope you enjoy experiencing our trials, tribulations, and new, fantastic memories right along with us. Perhaps in some small way, during a time we could all use a little inspiration, my stories from the road will offer a bit to you.