We had a great time in Fresno with Mary. We mostly just hung out and caught up, but we also went to dinner both nights I was there. Going out to eat is a rare treat for me. I seldom go to a restaurant when I’m on the road alone, and when I do, I get take-out. So to go and sit in a restaurant was very much a luxury to me. We left Sunday morning and headed south again and stayed in the parking lot of Harris Ranch. We stayed there last year and it was relatively quiet, easy and uneventful. The same held true this year. I thought I might get a takeout side dish from the restaurant (mainly a steak place) just to show my gratitude for them allowing RV’s to spend the night for free in their lot. The only non-meat item on the menu was fried green beans and a side serving was $13.95 plus tax. I decided I wasn’t that grateful. Later, I had a craving for ice cream and decided to look at their dessert menu. I mean, how much could a scoop of ice cream cost? The answer is $6.95. Again, I took a pass.
It was brutally hot out all day and didn’t cool off at night, making sleeping very difficult for me. I woke up at 3:00 a.m. and it had gotten down to 79 in the van. Ugh. I’m so over this ridiculous heat. We left in the morning and headed toward Bakersfield, CA.
I had made reservations (sort of) at an RV park that looked nice and was the cheapest one in the area. There are no free places to boondock, no BLM land in the area. I say I “sort of” made reservations because their online booking system has a button for “Online Booking.” I filled out all the information and when it was time to check out it said that I should pay upon arrival. I hit the “Complete” button and got a note saying “Thanks for your reservation. We look forward to seeing you soon.” When I arrived the sign on the office door said “Office Closed.” I pulled into a vacant spot and got online to find check-in time information. All I could find was a check-OUT time of noon daily. I found a phone number and called. The office is closed on Sundays and Mondays. Oh well. I saw a young man walking around and asked where the laundry and showers were. He pointed me in the right direction. I stopped at the office and saw, in tiny print under “OFFICE CLOSED” directions for self-check-in. I had set up camp in a spot not listed for one-night stays. So I got an envelope, paid, and went to one of the spots listed for short-term folks. I put a load of laundry in and took Cosmo to their “dog park.”
Yesterday, Mary and I discussed a term for not fully quitting your job, but staying employed and working as little as necessary to not get fired and still get a paycheck. I can’t remember the term, but it seems to me, most of America does that. I can camp here on a Sunday or Monday, but there is no one here to check me in. I guess the new rule is “Do it yourself. Figure it out, put money in an envelope and slide it in the slot.” It’s like they are unwilling to actually DO anything for you, but they want the same fee. So many places are that way, including much of the BLM land (who are now starting to charge a minimal fee without having to hire any extra help). I wish I had known that when I had my massage business. I could have put a sign on my door saying “I’m not here but rub yourself and slide some money under the door. And be sure to leave a good tip.” It seems a very lazy and uncaring way to run a business. At any rate, the park was clean, and it was about half full, so I didn’t have neighbors on adjoining lots. I plugged in and turned my air conditioner on full force. It did little to relieve the blazing heat. I’m in a metal box, parked in full sun, with lots of windows. With the sun beating in, it’s a pretty tough job for a small air-conditioner to put a dent in the heat, especially when it is 98⁰ outside. But it already feels slightly better than it did yesterday and last night, so I suppose it’s making a slight difference.
I heated up my leftover Thai Curry from my dinner out with Mary and made some fresh steamed rice. It was a delicious lunch. I went to take a shower and recover my laundry from the dryer and then spent the day in the van, some of the curtains drawn to block out the sun, and I played computer games and watched YouTube videos.
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We moved south again and made it over The Grapevine and past Gorman. We stopped at a place I’d stayed last year near Pyramid Lake (Los Alamos Campground in Angeles National Forest). Sheryl, the same camp host I got to know a bit last year was still there and so was her dog Tank. Cosmo and Tank ran and chased each other (off leash—good for Cosmo and safe because we were far from any roads and Sheryl and I were the only ones in the campground). I found a level spot to park and settled in. It felt like being on vacation. I know you are probably laughing at that. I go from desert to National Forest, to campground, to BLM land and repeat. I spend my life camping. That sounds pretty much like a vacation already, right? But although my life is much easier than when I lived in a brick-and-mortar building, there is still work to be done. I need to go get water—it doesn’t just come to me through pipes. When that water goes down a drain, it goes into a tank that has to be emptied. I have to stop and get propane to keep my fridge running, and gas for my vehicle to make it to the next place. I can’t just throw a load of laundry in while I’m doing a massage, and then switch it over to the dryer in between clients. I need to plan to go do laundry and sit and wait for it to be done. The toilet needs to be emptied, and showers need some planning as well. So when I have two days to sit outside in my chair in the shade, and either read, listen to audio books or listen to podcasts, it is a vacation. No chores for a couple days outside of making meals. I already knew where I was heading next, so I didn’t have to spend time looking for my next spot and get directions.
I’ve been listening to an Audible book called E². Maybe I’ll tell you more about it sometime, but for now, I’ll just say that the author suggests starting your day with a happy song. Sing along. Dance like nobody’s watching (and out here, nobody is!) I’ve been doing that in the mornings. Here Comes The Sun is a favorite and Three Little Birds (Every little ting, gonna be all right) is also a good way to start my morning. Cosmo comes with me off leash, and I sing along and dance and he looks at me like I’ve lost my mind (which I can assure you, happened LONG ago). I laugh at my silliness, and I could feel those endorphins swimming in my bloodstream. The sun was shining and I had nothing I had to do. It’s a nice morning ritual. We stayed two nights there and then moved to Castaic Lake for a night before heading to Yucaipa to visit my friend Kitty.
I met Kitty last fall in the BLM land south of Joshua Tree National Park. She has a camper shell on the back of her truck where she lives nicely for long weekends throughout the year. She will go full time on the road when she can retire, but for now she seems to try to see how small a life she can live. She does way better than I do. We’ve camped together a couple of times and will do so again in a few weeks when I head over to Joshua Tree and Quartzsite for much of the winter. She’ll meet me there for a long weekend. In the meantime, I stayed in her driveway for a few days. She is in an RV park living in a pull behind she bought and decided it was too big for her to actually “pull behind” her. So she parked it and took to remodeling her truck bed into a nice, efficient weekend getaway. Her community has a laundry room do I took the opportunity to wash all my seat cushions, and the throw rugs. It made a shocking difference. Every time I went into the van I had to do a double take. I had forgotten the true color of the cushion covers. Months of my hair, dog hair and desert dirt all washed away. It’s nice to be clean again. I took a shower and I got up on a ladder and washed off my solar panels. I got all my chores out of the way early and then Kitty drove us up a mountain into Angeles National Forest and showed us where she camps when she only has a couple of days over a weekend. It’s about 45 minutes from her house and yet is a “whole ‘nother world.”
Lessons From The Road: Fortunately I didn’t need to re-learn any life lessons this week. No school-of-hard-knocks courses. Life was pretty simple and very easy.
Except for driving. I drove from the boonies to the L.A. freeway system. Although I used to manage that on a daily basis many years ago when I lived in the L.A. area, I am quite out of practice. Driving in traffic with 4 to 6 lanes of cars whizzing by me at 70 m.p.h. was just short of terrifying. Richard told me yesterday that I’m turning into an old man. I’ve got news for him: I’ve already turned. I need a bumper sticker that says “Little Old Man in a Little Old Van -Go Around!”
I’m feeling a bit more integrated than I was a year ago. After I first left my sticks and bricks home, I had this idea that I needed to rough it. It felt like cheating if I stayed at a campground that had electricity and water, and when I stayed at a friend’s house and slept inside, I felt like an absolute imposter. Now it’s all integrated. I live where I stop. I take advantage of whatever is available, whether it is a view of the lake, a spot in a forest, or a stay in a driveway. Walking across the street to do laundry is a nice luxury and going into a friend’s house to take a shower is a nice treat. Whatever. I am truly feeling like “I Live Here” no matter where I stop for the night.