by Phyllis McCrossin
Today marks day six of being on the road.
We left Monday. Tonight we are staying at a campground in Quartzite, Ariz. Not the free Bureau of Land Management land, but an actual campground. It’s not fancy. In fact, it’s about as close to primitive as you can get and still have water and electricity.
Normally we stay on BLM land for free when we get to Quartzite, but our water pump quit working on our first day out. I can do without a lot of things, but water isn’t one of them. We will fix the pump when we get to our permanent California campground.
In order to reach the water pump the bed has to be taken apart and neither one of us is anxious to do that after a day of driving. King drives, I stare out the window, read or sleep. It’s exhausting.
We averaged about 350 miles per day — about five hours. That’s as much as we can handle. In addition to it being tiring, backsides get sore too.
Poor Petra will be happy to not be riding any longer. She’s a trooper and jumps into the truck every morning, but about 15 minutes in she leans against the back seat, rests her head on the head rest in back and stares out the window. She really does look pathetic.
Today, as we drove through Maricopa County in Phoenix, we came across a caravan of Trump supporters flying flags from their trucks — a sure sign that Maricopa County is still a big part of the battleground (whatever) for the upcoming election. Frankly I’m tired of it all — especially the mean-ness this election has generated.
There is not much to say about our cross-country trip. We are up every morning with the sun. King takes Petra for a walk, I fix breakfast (easy frozen waffles while we are traveling), we pack up the trailer, secure loose items, disconnect from the power and water source, check the trailer lights and go.
The actual highlight of the morning routine was at a Journey KOA (meaning they provide overnight accommodations for travelers) in Tucumcari, New Mexico. The campground offered breakfast — pancakes, eggs, bacon, orange juice and coffee for $8.50 each. I added a $5 tip, which went toward a KOA camp for kids. For someone who hates cooking as much as I do, it was a steal/deal.
Gas prices along the way ran from $2.50 to $3.20 up until now — the closer we get to California, the higher the prices. It’s not an economic trip. We fill up our 34-gallon tank two to three times a day. (Only once, when he refused to get off the Oklahoma Turnpike, did King drive until the gas light came on).
Tomorrow we will be in California. Our daughter will meet us at the campground where we are staying.
Her sons are in the middle of Little League season — it runs from October through the beginning of December and starts up again at the end of February, but there is no game this weekend. It’s probably good because I’ll be honest. .. King and I are tired.
Be kind. Accept the election results. Don’t kick sand in the sandbox.
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