As some of you know from my last post, Dan and I have briefly popped out of retirement to build up funds for a new road-chariot and to ensure that emergency and gas funds are topped off before we head back out on the road. Dan’s working the show room at Discount Solar here in Quartzsite, AZ, and I am their most recent office manager, at least until the end of March when snowbird season ends and the shop closes until October. It's nice to lend our skills to this highly rated, friendly, and professionally staffed local solar installation facility. It's all part of our plan to be of service in our little hometown while we are here and not out gallivanting the globe, or at least the United States. It's also been fun planting deeper roots here in Quartzsite where it all began, but our feet are itchy. It's nearly time to bolt.
We have given a lot of thought to what kind of vehicle we would choose next if we replaced our van. Dan is ready to build out a short schoolie-bus, but time before the beginning of roast-season here in the Q is scant and we have been super busy. We know a short bus is in our future, but for now, we will lean into the idea of replacing the engine in Erik Van Home. With 294,000 plus miles, he is the devil we DO know, having done the required maintenance and having seen records of what was done before we owned it. He is built out and otherwise road-ready, and we know (and love) every inch of him. There are no lumber costs or big expenses involved in sprucing up what we have. Except for the cost of engine replacement, we will simply get the chance to settle in more deeply to the rolling home we have loved for many years. We have done the same here at our tin teepee park model trailer during our extended stay due to the Covid stretch and high gas prices. It has been a blessing to be here, but we wanna be there, and everywhere.
Dan cycled through more disaster relief communications training this past weekend, so the pups and I tagged along to Lake Havasu City, even though there was snow atop the surrounding mountains the day before we left. It was 70 degrees on our way up so we were sure we wouldn’t break the “no snow on these tires” rule on this mini-journey.
As I stepped into the van to load for our short hour and twenty-minute leapity-leap, a dozen rainbows created by the glass prism ball danced around the interior of our living space. Signs, signs, everywhere signs. The van is still partially packed from our camping forays around Quartzsite last fall. Everything felt safe, familiar. Even last fall’s crumbs on the counter waved hello. Well, not really, but you get the idea. Our van definitely possesses a certain lived-in charm. Yeeessssss, Erik whispered. Let’s adventure!
The dogs, for their part, found the whole hotel stay to be quite deluxe. The barked here and there but mostly napped and waited to be fed and walked and loved on. It was a great solution for all of us.
They have had to adjust for the first time in their doggie lives to neither of us being home during the day. They have done very well and we are dang proud. So a little change of scenery and a lot of lovin’ were rewards for being exemplary home-dogs and away-dogs.
Missing the teaching of art classes and inspired by the dancing rainbows, I hauled along my art stuff and some lavender Epsom salts and bubble bath and prepared to entertain myself. Neuro-art was the plan. Some weird kind of Bette Midler meets HeatMiser a la crazy quilt emerged, with metallic highlights that are hard to see in the picture. Nonetheless, listening to audiobooks, taking dogs on long walks, drawing, and soaking in the tub were just the ticket for me.
We had a chance to share a couple of pizza pies at Papa Leone’s on the waterfront with fellow ham radio club friends one evening. The view of London Bridge (yes, the real one) was beautiful as always, although we didn’t get the opportunity for patio seating. No worries, I snuck out for a snapshot or two and a short video. The daylight picture below (with the boat) is one I took years ago, when it was just me and Miss Liberty traveling in my own van.
So along with the needed shopping (in the big city) at the end of Dan's training, that was about it. For me, the hours spent after hotel checkout in the parking lot dreaming in the van and perusing maps and reconfiguring space were also a treat. It’s nice to know that although we are dabbling in travel at the moment, the doors are about to swing wide and we will be footloose and fancy-free once again. Well, after the workety-work, the fixity fix, and the packety pack.
It was nice to take inventory and think about the updates to the packing Tetris game. It's a process, and something we will be doing while working full time for another few weeks. We willingly earn our freedom as we have in the past, each on our own in our early vandwelling days. Sometimes you gotta do what you gotta do to do what you wanna do.
Life includes many seasons of change and many seasons where one lays fallow and recovers or pedals hard to later coast. Then there are the moments of gratitude knowing we pulled it off yet again, fulfilling that pesky drumbeat of a mutual dream that will not settle, will not cease. We move awhile, we sit awhile, we move again. It's who we are and what we do, within this moveable Camp Cordray.
I leap-frogged over the chance to tell you all about my foray into art instruction to share our here-and-now. I will catch up soonly, I promise. I am the girl with the 33 drafts of newsletters with SOME words and SOME pictures but not all by any means. Dabs. Until then, let this little dab of news and updates do ya. Blessings to one and all.
Onwards and down-the-road-wards, happy trails, and all of that jazz….
Brenda Cordray
“The Desert Rose”