Oh, the Places You'll Go!

 by Dr. Seuss

We are snugly settled into our campsite at Sunhaven RV Resort in Apache Junction, Arizona.  Apache Junction is located in the eastern part of the Phoenix metropolitan area at the intersection of Apache Trail and Old West Highway.  It was originally an unpaved stagecoach trail to the nearby Superstition Mountains.  The Superstition Mountains are home to the legendary Lost Dutchman gold mine. We have a beautiful view of the Superstition Mountains from our living room windows.

Wherever consort and I land in our travels, we check our favorite website, Atlas Obscura, for unusual sights in the area to see.  The first locale that piqued our interest was the Mystery Castle located in the foothills of the South Mountains which are, believe it or not, directly south of Phoenix.  Phoenix is the fifth largest city in the US.  From where we are parked in Apache Junction, it takes about 30 to 45 minutes to reach just about anywhere.  So prior to heading to the Mystery Castle, we determined several other locations worth visiting in the same area.

Our first stop was The Farm at South Mountain where we enjoyed a delicious lunch.  We ordered sandwiches, egg salad with avocado and chicken salad with pecans -- roast beef for consort -- on freshly baked bread, which were served up in wicker baskets.  We took our picnic basket and found a table on a beautiful patio shaded by overhanging Palo Verde trees covered in bright yellow blossoms.  The food was delicious and the atmosphere serene.

From The Farm, we drove a short distance to the foothills of South Mountains for a tour of the Mystery Castle.

The builder of the house, Boyce Gully, was originally from Seattle where he lived with his wife and young daughter.  One of his favorite pastimes was building sandcastles with his daughter.  As the story goes, the father-daughter team would spend hours building intricate sandcastles only to see them washed away as the tide came in.  Gully's daughter, Mary Lou, asked her father to build her a big strong castle that could never be washed away, maybe somewhere in the desert where there is no ocean.  During his time in Seattle, Gully was diagnosed with tuberculosis.  Upon learning of his diagnosis, Gully left his family without notice and moved to the foothills of the South Mountains, a remote area south of downtown Phoenix.

Gully began construction of the castle in the early 1930s and finished shortly before his death in 1945.  The castle has 18 rooms and 13 fireplaces.  All of the materials used in the castle came from the land where the house was built or recycled materials Gully acquired locally.  There are intricate patterns in the stonework, recycled tractor seats used as chairs near a fireplace, and lots of colored glass built into the walls.  Mary Lou and her mother moved into the castle sometime after Boyce Gully's death, and Mary Lou continued to live in the permanent sandcastle her father built for her until she died in 2010. This really unusual castle has been featured in numerous magazine articles and has had curious visitors hoping for a glimpse inside since completion.  We were very impressed!

After inspecting every inch of the Mystery Castle, we headed into downtown Phoenix for a stop at the Phoenix Museum of Art.  I had read about an exhibit of fireflies created by artist Yayoi Kusama.  The official name of the artwork is, You Who are Getting Obliterated in the Dancing Swarm of Fireflies. The exhibit consists of walls of mirrors and a mixed media installation of LED lights.  It was truly amazing.

We were also treated to a fantastic display of Ansel Adams photography and an enchanting exhibit of miniature model homes replicating rooms from 13th century Europe all the way through 20th century America.  

You're on your own.  And you know what you know.

And you are the one who'll decide where to go!

                                                                            ~Dr. Seuss

This one's for you, D...

 

This is the golf course just a couple of miles down the road.  

Consort says not to bring your woods.

The Death Wobble

 On March 31, consort and I pulled up stakes in Brownsville and headed west. Our final destination, Apache Junction, a suburb of Phoenix, Arizona.

On our first leg of the trip we planned to boondock overnight in the Kerrville, Texas, Walmart parking lot just north of San Antonio.  We were passing by Kerrville around two o'clock in the afternoon and were having such a pleasant day, we decided to keep driving.  As the afternoon slowly passed, I began searching for a place to park the rig overnight.  Consort has an app on his phone called Park4Night that lists places near you that allow boondocking.  We decided to stop at Iraan, Texas.  (We never learned whether that is pronounced Iran or Ira-ann.  Based on the fact it was in western Texas, we assumed it was Ira-ann.)

Park4Night directed us to the city park in Iraan for an overnight boondock.  When we arrived, we noticed a sign at the entrance that said, No overnight parking.  Just to be safe, we contacted local law enforcement to let them know we were in the park and to verify an overnight boondock was allowed.  They assured us we were okay.

Iraan, Texas, is a small town with a population of 1,230.  It is located about 13 miles off of I-10.  The area around Iraan had a definite desert look with flat mesas in the distance.  It reminded us quite a bit of the Oklahoma Panhandle.

We spent a quiet night in a very isolated area.  The night sky was unencumbered by lights and the view of the stars was magnificent.  We didn't bother with a generator as the night air was very cool.  The only sound was that of birds scavenging and hooting throughout the night.  It was the perfect scenario for sleeping, yet neither consort nor I slept well.  We were up at the crack of dawn the next morning, had a quick breakfast, hitched the fifth wheel, and took off.  That first day we traveled 540 miles, about nine hours in the truck.

On day two, we continued west on I-10.  Our goal was to reach El Paso.  We arrived in El Paso, which is much bigger and busier than I anticipated, and felt like we could continue on, and so we did.  We followed I-10 north driving around the outskirts of Las Cruces, New Mexico, then continued west.  We ended the day at the Deming, New Mexico, Walmart.  415 miles, about seven hours in the truck.    

The Park4Night app stated that the Deming Walmart welcomed overnight boondockers and even had a portion of their parking lot set aside for them.  (You really can fulfill all your needs at the Walmart store...)  We were surprised to find so many 18-wheelers and RVs already set up in the parking lot when we pulled in around four o'clock.  There weren't many choices left for parking, so we pulled in next to an 18-wheeler leaving room between us for consort to park the truck.  As we were unhitching our truck from the trailer, another 18-wheeler pulled in next to us leaving just enough room for our slides to open.  The lot was hot, as most are, so we unloaded the generator and hooked it up so as to have electricity and AC in the trailer.

There we are, all snuggled up with our 18-wheeler neighbors.  Evidently, more 18-wheelers pulled in overnight.  When we went to bed, there were about 15 different types of RVs, including fifth wheels, motorhomes, Class C's, and vans, and twice as many 18-wheelers, parked in the lot.  I don't know how familiar you are with 18-wheelers, but when they park for the night, they do not shut down their rigs.  The loud motors are running all night long.  And, of course, we had our very loud generator running.  You can imagine the cacophony.  Despite the noise, or perhaps because of it, consort and I slept like babies. Reminded me of a scene from My Cousin Vinny.

There was an instance on the drive from Iraan to Deming when the truck lost power and a large wrench appeared on the dash with a warning about reduced engine power.  Consort pulled the rig over to the shoulder and we shut the truck off.  After waiting a few minutes, he restarted the truck and everything seemed fine.  We decided to continue on to Apache Junction where we would have the truck thoroughly checked; although, while in Deming, he had a mechanic run a cursory eye over the engine and oil levels.  No major problems presented.

The closest route to Phoenix from Deming takes you through some pretty good-sized mountains.  While the Smoky Mountains do not frighten me, the Appalachian Mountains made me very nervous.  I cannot imagine a time when I would willingly drive with a fifth-wheel attached through the Rocky Mountains.  Just the thought of it makes me shudder.

To avoid the mountains, we decided to stay on I-10 and drive from Deming, New Mexico, two hours west to Tucson, Arizona, and then head north to Apache Junction on the outskirts of Phoenix.  We plugged in an audiobook and started off, anxious to finally reach our destination.  About halfway between Deming and Tucson we stopped at a rest area for a quick break.  Consort let D.O.G. out to walk around while I grabbed a couple of sodas and some snacks out of the fifth wheel.  The scenery was beautiful!

Once everyone had their fill of walking around and enjoying the dry desert air, we loaded up and headed out.  

Approximately eight miles west of the rest area, we hit a rough patch in the road.  Without warning, the truck began to violently shimmy and shake back and forth.  Consort was barely able to maintain his grip on the steering wheel and I was barely able to suppress my screams.  With skills that never cease to amaze me, consort got the truck slowed down and off onto the shoulder of the road.  Right before the truck shut down of its own volition, the same warning we had seen the day before, a wrench, appeared on the dashboard, followed by an oil can that flashed onto the monitor.  We were both a bit shaken up by the abrupt stop, but completely unharmed.  Aside from being stranded in the middle of nowhere, the biggest problem was that there really is no shoulder on I-10 and it is a very busy highway.  18-wheelers and RVs were zooming past shaking us from side to side.

Consort contacted the insurance carrier for the truck and arranged for a tow.  The insurance company we've had for 30 years maintains the insurance on the truck, but does not cover fifth wheels.  While consort spoke with the truck insurance, I contacted the fifth wheel insurance carrier.  There's no reason to go into much detail here, but I will pass on the most important bit of information I garnered:  If you are stranded on the side of the road, especially an interstate, call 911 and request a highway patrolman to come to your location and manage traffic.  It was a godsend.  As drivers approached us, they could see the patrol car with flashing lights and would immediately pull over into the outside lane.  It also alleviated all danger for the wreckers.

Just as we finished the necessary phone calls to insurance carriers, lining up a truck repair and campsite, the highway patrol officer arrived.  Only ten minutes later the first wrecker was on the scene.  He loaded our F-350 onto a flatbed trailer and left for a Ford dealership in Tucson 53 miles away.  A second tow vehicle arrived just minutes later.  The tow for the fifth wheel was simply a heavy duty truck with the appropriate hitch for a fifth wheel.  A very friendly and experienced driver secured the trailer to the truck and towed us to a KOA campground in Tucson.

The next morning the dealership called and told us it would be a week to ten days before they would be able to look at the truck, run diagnostics, and determine what the problem was.  This was unhappy news, indeed.  Our plans were to park in Apache Junction for the month of April visiting with my brother and sister-in-law, then head north to Flagstaff to spend time with our friends.  I began the process of calling friends and the campground in Apache Junction to let them know of our dilemma and delayed arrival.  

When I spoke with our friends in Flagstaff, a little over four hours from Tucson, they offered to drive their truck to Tucson, hitch our fifth wheel, and deliver us to our campsite in Apache Junction.  I can't even begin to tell you how that made us feel.  With that simple offer of help, they changed what could have been a very frustrating situation into an entirely workable plan.

The KOA campground in Tucson.  Loved the covered parking that
 kept you shaded from the intense Arizona sun. It is a great idea!

We landed in Tucson on a Thursday afternoon.  The phone call from the dealership was early Friday morning. Later that day, around lunchtime on Friday, consort received a second call from the dealership.  They understood we were full-time RVers and moved our truck to the head of the line for repairs.  They ran diagnostics and determined we needed a new oil sensor, a $25 part.  The service tech said he would replace the faulty sensor and our truck would be ready for pick up late Friday afternoon, which was, in fact, the case.  Insurance covered all of the towing, so our out-of-pocket consisted of nominal charges for the repair and, of course, an unplanned stopover at the KOA.

While we were parked at the KOA and unable to go anywhere without a vehicle, we began in-depth research on why the truck was doing the shimmy/shake.  Sure, we had an oil sensor issue, but that did not explain the violent shimmy/shake we experienced before stopping.  We finally hit on the answer:  Our truck has a death wobble.  Yes, that's what they call it, a death wobble.  Apparently, this is an inherent problem in the Ford F-250 and 350 trucks.  It has been an ongoing problem for a decade.  When these trucks hit a rough patch on the road, whether or not any trailers are attached, it will begin to violently wobble from side to side. It stems from defects in the steering linkage and suspension.  Ford is aware of the problem, but has yet to recall the vehicles for repair.  The good news is that the death wobble is a fairly simple fix.  

We picked up the truck from the repair shop late Friday afternoon.  We left Tucson Saturday morning, April 3rd, and arrived in Apache Junction without incident later that same day.  Upon arriving in Apache Junction, consort located a diesel mechanic who was familiar with the death wobble and had repaired the problem numerous times.  While I am sitting here writing this blog, the truck is in the shop getting all necessary repairs.

We're anchored in Apache Junction for the month of April, and I'll keep you up-to-date on the happenings.  But for now, I must sign off.  While consort and brother are hanging out with the dogs and waiting on the truck repairs, my sister-in-law and I are headed out to spend the afternoon at IKEA.  Oh, yes, I know where every IKEA in the nation is located and we may be planning all travels around their locations!

Reading:  Just finished the book 1984, a work of fiction by author George Orwell written in 1949.  If you've read it before, it's worth re-reading.  We in the USA seem to presently be heading down a path toward this dystopian society.  I believe that we, as American patriots, need to wake up and take a stand for our republic.  I am grateful for the freedoms and the rights granted me under the constitution of the United States of America and will defend them with every breath.

Christmas Greetings from Brownsville

 

These are a few examples from the annual sand castle exhibit held on South Padre Island.  The Santa Claus was our favorite sculpture, although the sentiment inscribed on the left-hand picture below seems to best describe holiday wishes from government to citizens. 

These are two embroidery projects drawn, stitched, and framed for Christmas.  I have stitched the picture on the left you see hanging in my fifth wheel three times.  The first two times I embroidered the fantasy skyline, tie-dyed them, then sewed them into tote bags.  This time I decided to frame the project for my own enjoyment.  I can tell you I embroidered the picture on the right as a Christmas gift for my mother because we've already exchanged gifts and it is now hanging in her home here in Brownsville.

Cheers!  The glass on the left is a cherry-chocolate martini.  I purchased a jar of chocolate covered cherry moonshine when we were in Tennessee this past summer.  You mix the cherry liqueur with Creme de Cacao and a little heavy cream, then top it with more whipped cream and a moonshine cherry.  If done just right, it tastes like melted cherry ice cream.  I noticed this morning I had a kind of theme going.  In addition to the chocolate covered cherry moonshine, I have blackberry moonshine, double chocolate vodka, and grapefruit beer.  The Schoefferhofer grapefruit beer is really good!

I'm not sure how many dozens of cookies I've made in the past few weeks, but I do know I've made seven different types.  These pictured above are monster cookies.  They are basically peanut butter-oatmeal cookies with chocolate chips and M&M's.  The recipe calls for a dozen eggs, four cups of sugar, two pounds of brown sugar, three pounds of peanut butter, among other things.  You are supposed to scoop them out with an ice cream scoop to make cookies the size of a dessert plate.  I halved the recipe and made smaller cookies.  I could only make two cookies at a time if I made them with an ice cream scoop.  Living in a fifth wheel, you learn to adapt.

Last week SpaceX launched their Starship rocket from Boca Chica beach.  We were able to stand in our yard at 4 Seasons and see it take off, make the turn, and head back to the launchpad.  It rose to about 41,000 feet before shutting off its engines and turning horizontally, as planned.  It flew across the sky a short distance then turned nose up again as it descended to the landing pad.  As its legs hit the ground at landing, the rocket exploded.  From where we were, 17 miles away, we heard the reverberant boom of take off and actually felt the forceful vibration from the launch.  We did not see or hear the crash.

The conjunction of Jupiter and Saturn as seen from our yard.

A few pics of the 4 Seasons Christmas parade.  This beautifully lit SUV was spectacular!

It seems we are constantly losing track of the kitty, and I'm always concerned he has scampered out of the fifth wheel when the door is open.  He has yet to escape his human captivity and always turns up in the most interesting places.  The other day I had our bed lifted to access the storage underneath.  I retrieved whatever it was I needed, then lowered the bed to its normal position.  Sometime later we realized we hadn't seen Fulton running through the trailer.  We checked all his favorite hiding spots to no avail.  I retraced my activities of the day and arrived back at the bed.  I lifted the bed and found the kitty inside a box wrapped up in Christmas lights and happily munching on ribbons.

'Twas the night before Christmas and all through the house, not a creature was stirring and -- thank goodness! -- no mouse. The fur-balls were nestled all snug in their beds while visions of yummy treats danced round in their heads.  

Happy Christmas to all and to all a good night!

Feisty, Fierce Fulton

 

Remember when we were in Fulton, Missouri, a couple of months ago and consort found a kitten we decided to adopt?  When we found him, he really was nothing more than skin, bones, and parasites.  We did what we could for him -- baths, flea medication, FOOD, but when we got to our hometown, we took him to our vet for a full examination.  Based on the vet's best guess, the kitten was about two months old when we rescued him, and only two pounds.  After a month's worth of visits to the veterinarian, and multiple rounds of medications, the kitten was finally pronounced parasite free and ready to begin his new life.  

The kitten gets called a lot of things, but Fulton is his given name.  Although he weighed only two pounds when we found him, he was completely fearless.  He must have sensed that a forever home was on the line because he has never had any issues with the Pulik.  

Fulton thinks of himself as a dog and wants to be included in all dog activities.  He loves hiding and waiting for one of the dogs, or one of the humans for that matter, to walk by so he can pounce on them.  The most common sight in the fifth wheel nowadays is D.O.G. walking around with the kitten attached to his hind leg.  

When Fulton was first introduced into our family, we were concerned about him playing with the dogs; he was so tiny and seemed very fragile.  We expressed our concerns to the vet who just laughed.  He told us not to worry, the cat would be able to defend himself.  The vet knew exactly what he was talking about.  Yesterday evening, Fulton jumped onto Annie's head wrapping his paws around her eyes while he chomped on her ear.  Annie tolerated the cat for a moment or two, then quickly whipped her head forward and backward body slamming the kitten to the floor.  Fulton reared up on his hind legs pawing the air in front of him, every bit the ferocious feline.  Annie gave him a whatever look and walked away.

D.O.G. and Fulton remain the best of friends.  They chase each other through the trailer; they share their toys; D.O.G. continues to give Fulton baths; they curl up and sleep together at night.  After one disastrous day of canine/feline gastrointestinal issues, we no longer allow the two different species to share their food.  D.O.G. is very tolerant of this new baby that invaded his world.  He patiently endures all injury, trouble, and provocation.

When consort takes the dogs out for walks each morning, Fulton sits at the front door and cries.  After he gained a couple of pounds, we purchased a harness for him so he could go outside with the dogs.  The first couple of times we tried to put him in the harness, it was like trying to thread cooked spaghetti noodles through shoe eyelets.  Eventually he realized that by submitting to the humility of a harness, he would be allowed to go outside.  We are training him to go on walks with the dogs.  He does a pretty good job of following after D.O.G., but is easily distracted.  I think we'll get there eventually.

If you had told me a few years ago that one day I would be living in a fifth wheel and taking a kitten on a walk with a leash, I would have suggested you were off your meds.  Apparently, the joke's on me!

Exposed

 

I cannot walk in the open street today

with the sun glinting off the pavement

like so many eyes looking through me.

Today I can only manage the alleyways,

my steps muffled in the weedy overgrowth,

soundless, unnoticed.

Trees bend over me

understanding my need for cover and shadows.

The wind stirs the leaves

and lightly rumples my hair,

a soft caress to my cheek.

This hidden path serves my need for quiet, 

for solitude.

Tomorrow I'll walk in the sun.

I was going through some old files in my computer today and ran across the above poem I wrote in November 2015.  The picture is a selfie from 2011, which I thought perfectly reflected the mood of the poem.

I have dealt with depression and anxiety for as long as I can remember.  It kind of creeps up on me and, because of the tools I've acquired over the years, I can usually shake it off.  But there are times when it hits so hard that I feel I've been thrown down into the deepest black hole ever created and there's no way out.  When consort and I removed ourselves from "the real world" and began traveling about the country, the depression subsided.  It's been a full year since I was last overwhelmed by this darkness.

Anxiety, on the other hand, is a daily thing I work very hard to overcome.  It often inhibits me from doing things I enjoy, and it definitely keeps me from voluntarily joining large groups of people. 

But here I am today, a month after arriving in Brownsville, having fallen into the black hole and just beginning to claw my way out.  Maybe it's the pandemic exhaustion everyone talks about.  Maybe it's the disturbing state of our beautiful country.  Maybe it's that I'm 800 miles away from my grandsons who are truly the light of my life.  Maybe it's coming to an abrupt halt after a summer of traveling adventures.  I've never been able to figure out what it is that causes the depression; likewise, I can never pinpoint what it is that causes me to suddenly "wake up" to my old self.

I try to keep this blog lighthearted and have debated with myself for days as to whether I should publish my thoughts.  I finally came to the conclusion that until I honestly write about where I am right now and how I'm feeling, I have no voice.  If I can't be truthful about the bad stuff, why should you follow me through the good times?

Today is a new day and I'm finally waking up.  I've clawed my way to the top of the black hole and am peeking over the edge.  Maybe I'll even put on a mask and take the dogs, and their feline brother, outside for a walk.

Be well, dear reader, and stay safe.