We have always planned our routes and volunteering gigs based on where the birds are. Once we choose an area, we check out nearby food shopping, restaurant options, and proximity to things to explore. Now, we also consider where Cody can get his acupuncture treatments.
After we heard that our summer volunteering job was officially cancelled, we were excited to spend the summer in Florence, Oregon where Cody’s favorite vet is. But when we found out she is no longer in practice, panic set in. I extended my search beyond Florence and found two vets in Coos Bay, a coastal town an hour south of Florence. They offered acupuncture and cold laser therapy, and there was even a mobile vet who serviced the area.
We love the Coos Bay area. With a population of 16,000, there are several supermarkets and lots of restaurant choices, so I started looking online to see what might suit us. There are high end resorts and very low end RV parks in the area. I considered staying at the Charleston Marina, where we had spent a month three years ago, but it is essentially a big parking lot, and not a place Marika wanted to return to.
Then I found a small, 10 space park, also in Charleston, that butts up against the bay. I called and they had one spot available. I explained that we didn’t know how long we’d be staying, since our volunteering job had been cancelled, and they said, no problem, you can stay as long as you like.
Suddenly, I felt ease and calm again. We had a great place to stay, we could walk around town right from the park, and we’d be right on the water. And Cody had a vet. Now I could happily plan our journey from Phoenix to the coast.
We pulled out on Monday, May 18, the anniversary of when we began this life the road. We headed west on I-10 into our fifth year, and thirty miles out of town, we had a blowout. If you’ve ever had a blowout on a freeway, you know it’s pretty scary. Imagine being in a 32 foot motorhome, towing a car, when your back RV tire explodes. We managed to cross three lanes of traffic and pulled onto the shoulder.
We waited an hour on the side of the freeway for AAA to come to change the tire. Every passing car and truck shook the motorhome, but we stayed as calm as we could. We had lunch, watched some TV, finally the AAA arrived. He jacked up the tire, and then his jack broke. And then he saw that both tires on the back right were flat, so we’d need a tow. Four more hours later and the tow truck finally arrived. We had to carry Cody down the steps of the RV since there was no room for his ramp, and the three of us drove the car to Discount Tire to get four new back tires on the RV.
By the time we were done, it was almost four o’clock, so we stayed at an RV Resort in Buckeye for the night. And thank goodness they had a swimming pool, so I could let the whole day go.
We headed out in the morning, rested and ready, with all of our travel stops rescheduled for one night later. There were fewer cars on the freeway from Phoenix to our first stop outside of Banning, in California. We stayed at a KOA, a rarity for us, since they are usually family-focused and expensive. But this park was quiet, with trees, and situated against the mountains, so there were spectacular views. We sat outside with Cody and chatted with a woman, six feet apart, who had just bought a new RV to live in full time.
In the morning, we took the back roads to the I-5 to avoid the crazy LA interchanges, and headed north as far as Lost Hills. RV Parks along the I-5 are nondescript and hardly fancy. No pools, no grass, but they offer a safe place to park with hookups. And after our 260 mile driving day, that was all we needed.
On our third night, we pulled into the fairgrounds outside of Sacramento for the night, and the leveling jacks wouldn’t go down. And I noticed that all of the road vibration had once again, loosened the kitchen cabinets from the wall. And we had two more driving days. I was freaking out. We called our favorite RV mechanic in Coos Bay and made an appointment, but I was still worried.
I am usually the optimistic one, the encourager, the one who knows everything’s going to work out fine. But that night I imagined the worst scenarios, and woke up in a real panic. I was anxious about the levelers, the cabinets, and the fact that the day’s delay meant we’d be driving in big winds, which is not easy in an RV. I shared all of this with Marika and asked her to please help me through.
When I got behind the wheel I cried, and then I practiced some four/eight breathing, and I did fine. The winds were 18-25 mph, but they was coming at us, not from the sides, so it wasn’t bad at all. Marika took over in Redding and drove us up and over and through the Shasta Mountain range, to our final stop of the trip.
I had found an RV Resort on the Klamath River, just a few miles from the California-Oregon border. Even though it was the Friday of Memorial Day weekend, the park was quiet and clean. There were blue herons and ring billed gulls, even a white pelican floating on the river, the first water birds I’d seen in seven months. I was in heaven. Cody loved the grass and the smells, and Marika and I appreciated the level concrete since we weren’t trying out the jacks. We especially loved the cool air and having a day of no driving. And they even had ice cream novelties for sale at the office.
Marika spent the entire day on Saturday in bed, reading, Netflixing, napping, even eating her lunch in bed. I enjoyed walks with Cody, sitting outside, in the SUN, watching people float by on the fast moving river, and reading a book from the park’s lending library. I even did a load of laundry, because I could. We would have stayed a third night, but there was no availability, so on Sunday morning, we pulled out and headed to our destination-the south central Oregon coast.
Again, I was anxious, this time worried that the narrow, winding mountain road from the I-5 to Coos Bay would be full of holiday traffic, and it would take twice as long. But the drive was easy, it was two lanes most of the way, and there were hardly any cars on the road with us.
We pulled into Snug Harbor RV Park around two on Sunday afternoon. The park is behind the laundromat and gift shop, right off the Cape Arago Highway. Our spot backs up to the south slough of the bay, and the back window offers a panoramic view of the water, the forest of pine trees, the boat yard, and the drawbridge. It is cozy and snug, just like the name implies. It’s a double-wide spot, with thick shrubs between us and our neighbors to the right. In the space on our left side, the owner is building a dome house, but building has stopped for now.
There are only four other rigs here, two of them are permanent residents, Overalls Bill, who lives in a converted school bus, and Fishing Man, who lives in a 5th wheel and probably works at one of the nearby fish processing plants. The other two couples are just here for a while, like us. There are sections of grass in the RV park, and a great little city park across the street full of good smells. And, funny thing, the leveling jacks worked fine when we pulled in.
Cody had his first appointment with the new vet on Tuesday, but because of Covid, we weren’t allowed to go in with him. He was so anxious and skittish, and the uncarpeted floors were slippery, that he only got a partial acupuncture treatment. We asked if we could go in with him next time, or do it outside, but no, we’ll have to wait until policies change.
On Wednesday I woke up, ate my cereal and coffee, then puked. I spent the rest of the day in bed, mostly sleeping. I realized that I was freaking out because of Cody. He needs his treatments to maintain his back health and all I could see was that he couldn’t get them.
But then I looked at him and realized he’s doing really well right now. The cool air suits him, and the level ground is easier for walking. I have to trust that, when he needs another treatment, it will work out. Because I can only plan and control so much. And then I just have to let it go, and simply be grateful for what is.
And this place seems perfect for now for all of us. It is quiet and safe, with birds and water, and places to walk right from our front door. Some mornings we drive a half mile to the marina so Cody can enjoy a walk around some water. Some mornings we leave him home and drive to the beach, less than two miles away. And some mornings, like today, we are tucked in at home, listening to our first steady rain on the RV roof. The tide is going out and the gulls and egrets are scattered in the mudflats, fishing.
It’s the first time we don’t have a plan, or a job, or a list of places to explore. We’re just here. Taking our time to acclimate to the weather, the pace, the change in elevation, and to explore what we want this time to be.
And isn’t that what we’re all doing these days? Settling into a different pace, a different space, and exploring how we want to show up in this new world?
I would love to hear how and what you are adjusting, noticing, and shifting in your own life.
Stay cool. Stay healthy.
From my heart to yours,
Ruth
Love hearing about your adventures. Be well.
Thanks, Renae! I do love sharing them!