Memphis Dash, Part Two of Two

Camp Cordray Leaps Largely

It all started around Christmas-time, 2023. I was lying on the bed at our desert casa contemplating life with all of its joys and complications. It occurred to me that in times of indecision the best thing to do is to clarify your intentions to avoid letting the racing mind have its lead. I located the stack of magazines that I was planning to use for a vision board class and a slice of foam board left from another project and set them aside. I would light the bayberry candle on New Year’s Eve and cut and assemble the bits and pieces into my (our) own vision board for the upcoming year to see what magic it might unearth.

When I made the initial decision to lead a nomadic life, I created a three panel vision board. After more than a decade of living here, there, and everywhere, I am in awe of how many places I have been and experiences I have had that started as little scraps of paper glued to those three poster boards. Dan and I need a new traveling chariot and had diligently saved funds for this necessity. We had shopped for vehicles on our summertime travels in Northern Arizona, but had not seen anything that blew up my skirt and his kilt. Might as well flesh out what we are looking for and what we would like this year to look like.

Dan worked most of this (tourist) season and the last one at Discount Solar, a solar installation place in Quartzsite. After seven years of retirement, he has learned that he misses a few facets of working life. He loves interacting with people, relishes a good head-scratching mental challenge, and thrives on being of service in everything he does. Even with two decades plus experience working in the vehicle manufacturing field he has completely ignored the headhunters who have contacted him since he retired. He is still valuable to the industry as a retiree with a vast storehouse of knowledge that is needed as younger workers enter the field. He didn’t even open the emails or answer the calls until that one day in December when his curiosity got the better of him.

So while I was sitting there dreaming, Dan stuck his head through the doorway and asked a question out of the blue. “What would you think of relocating to Memphis for 6 months, maybe more?” he said. I reminded him that anywhere that he goes is where I am going, too, but why do you ask, I queried. That was the question that led to the decision that flipped up both my skirt and his kilt.

Neither of us lacks courage, nor do we fear a new adventure. This one, though, would require proof. Would we, could we, up-end our Jello nailed to a tree springtime plans to accept this challenge? He had answered his first headhunter/recruiter call and the guy snapped up the Dan-bait like a hungry bass in an empty pond. The initial offer was glorious, but the eventual added perk package just kept rolling out blessed surprises, beginning with a furnished apartment, all expenses paid, a hefty salary, and much, much more. If he decided to jump back into the work-pool, the rewards would be mighty.

If we stayed where we were and did what we do, we would still be happy, financially sound, and free to move about the country at will, as we love to do. The pups and I really love having him around and this job would require 40 plus hours per week with overtime hours a given with little or no notice. The idea of not rolling free felt foreign as did the idea of living in a big metropolitan area. As negotiations and multiple interviews ensued, I refrained from being the brakes to his gas pedal and let him decide. I did, however, make sure that the vision board got finished. This or something better for the highest good of all involved, Great Spirit. Thank you for this and every other blessing. I lofted our intentions up into the clouds. In two days, Dan had a solid offer and a work start date.

In typical Dan style, my guy donned his I-can-dooooooo-it cape (and kilt) and leapt right in to the opportunity the minute he felt sure I was willing (and happy) to go. When the timeline was revealed, we had about a week to pack and ten days to get across the country with everything we thought we might need for both apartment living and eventual back on the road boondocking when this gig is finished. The desert casa mid-organization mode exploded into a flurry of boxes, bags, hanging clothes, and this and that piled to either leave the van and trailer or be added to one or the other. I found an empty bird nest in the driveway, a familiar sign that it was time to vacate our desert home. We waited to make the announcement until all of the details were ironed out. It was surreal. We wanted to be sure it was for real because it sure didn’t feel like it.

We got it together in record time and launched just slightly after winter weather shut Memphis down for days and left DFW frigid which would have made our short visit there miserable. We stayed in motels on this journey, completely confusing the pups. As usual, they were happy wherever we were and adjusted nicely.

We got some mud on new tires at our old haunt, Sea Bee Park in Abilene, Texas, but otherwise enjoyed sunny skies even when winds blew us clear across West Texas.

We took the time to rest mid-route and built in a few shopping days to gather things we would need on this very different adventure. We saw a few dear friends, but otherwise just moved ourselves eastbound, keeping an eye on the timeline and counting our blessings with every passing mile.

A Pro-Palestinian demonstration shut down the Fernando de Soto bridge for hours just as we arrived. We were stopped one mile from our exit and less than 5 miles from our new (temporary) home. Police vehicles and ambulances raced by the both directions, even along the shoulder, as helicopters circled overhead. Dan jimmied the lock for a nearby truck driver who left his keys in his running semi when he stepped out to see what he could see. Eventually we were able to cross the bridge from Arkansas to Tennessee as the sun set on Saturday night. The rains started later that evening and lasted every bit of Sunday except one slim hour where we hauled in as much gear and goods as we could and just sat in wide eyed wonder at where we had landed. The next day bright and early Dan reported to his new job and the pups and I began the business of making this contemporary corporate apartment a cozy home. Now it’s Thursday, and while we are not completely settled in, it is feeling less like someone else’s apartment or a motel around here.

Dogs lounge on the patio as the smell of our made-from-scratch dinner wafts through our new neighborhood. Yes, there have been moments of culture shock in our short time here, but I will save those stories for my next post. So that’s the tale of how all of this happened and why we are in Memphis, Tennessee, for the next little section of time. “Life moves pretty fast. If you don’t stop and look around once in a while, you could miss it.” Ferris Bueller said this, on his famous day off. I promise that we will look around soon and you will see what we see, Memphis Mississippi River style. Whew! What an adventure this has been already!

Waving warmly from the East instead of the West,

Brenda Cordray

“The Desert Rose”