Flexibility. Following the energy. Asking for what you want. This is life on the road.
DAY 1: Wednesday
Our first traveling day was a success. We drove 168 miles via I-17 and Highway 89 from Phoenix to Cameron, Arizona, just 30 miles north and east of the south rim of the Grand Canyon. We used half of our $140.00 fill up of gas, made stops for propane, pooping, and checking in to our campground. Five hours later, we were leveled in the dusty dirt, and cooling off inside the RV at the Cameron Trading Post, overlooking the Little Colorado River Gorge.
The Cameron Trading Post was established in 1916 as a place to trade with the local Native Americans. They still sell and showcase gorgeous Native American art and craft items. There’s also a motel, restaurant, and RV Park, where we spent the night.
After dinner at home, we left Tillie alone in the RV for the first time, and drove across the highway to the restaurant for some Indian Fry bread to go. It was crispy and warm, served with hot packets of honey, and containers of powdered sugar and cinnamon. Delicious.
The three of us walked around the campground to admire the Little Colorado River gorge, the suspension bridge and the vistas, all while encouraging Tillie to do her business. She does NOT like to pee and poop in public. So she went 24 hours between poops. We’re hoping she relaxes a bit about that with practice.
She does seem to enjoy the driving and all of the new smells. And there’s enough length inside to play ball! My biggest worry was teaching her to wait when we go out the RV door. But by the second morning on the road, she was waiting until she got permission to come down the steps.
She’s also learning to watch without barking, which is something I am also practicing when something upsets me. Instead of arguing or reacting, I am practicing just observing. (We teach what we most need to learn, right?)
DAY 2: Thursday
Highway 89 begins in Congress, Arizona, southwest of Prescott. It winds through Sedona and Oak Creek, and continues north from Flagstaff, where we picked it up and continued all the way into Utah. The two lane highway rolls through red rock canyons and the vast high desert, surrounded in the distance by snow capped mountains. There are ample passing lanes and few semi trucks, which made for an easy, four-hour driving day to Kanab, Utah, where we were staying for two nights.
The Hitch ’N Post RV Park is tucked behind a house on the main drag, which is highway 89, across the street from several restaurants. Behind the park is a church, some houses, and a dirt reservoir set up with trails for ATVs.
Our spot was at the back of the park, quiet, with a few trees. It was in the 80’s, too warm to sit outside after the driving day, so we relaxed inside, watching some television. Later, I walked across the street and picked up delicious junky food from Big Al’s. The onion rings were some of the best we’ve ever had.
DAY 3: Friday
Every town has its own weather advisory on the weather channel app. In Phoenix, it’s the UV Index, in Los Angeles it’s air quality. In Kanab, there is a Dry Skin Index, and the warning was extreme, advising people to moisturize and bathe in lukewarm water. I was drinking even more water than usual, and my fingers and lips were drier than when we were in Phoenix.
We put on sunscreen and wide brimmed hats and the three of us spent the morning walking around Best Friends Animal Sanctuary, just up the road. Established in 1984, the huge complex is on 20,000 acres, and they take care of an average of 1600 animals (horses, pigs, cats, dogs, birds, parrots) on any given day.
We picked up a map at the Welcome Center, and drove along a wide dirt road through the red rock canyons to our first stop at Angel’s Rest. Marked with a gorgeous iron gate, and bordered by rock walls and pavers, the area is the final resting place for hundreds of animals. Eighteen hundred wind chimes are dispersed among the markers that are adorned with pet photos, healing stones, painted rocks, and trinkets. The stone walls have niches that hold boxes with cremains, photos and collars, all surrounded by more trinkets and rocks.
We walked along the markers, reading names, me waving my hands through the wind chimes to make them sing. Tillie was ultra-cautious around the life-sized dog and cat statues, stopping several feet away to look, smell, tilt her head, then inching a little closer until she was close enough to sniff the statue’s face.
We drove a little further up the road to a labyrinth and Angel’s Lookout. Marika and Tillie took a walk and I followed a path to the top of a hill, so aware that I had no pain walking. My legs felt strong from all of my riding, and the 5000 foot elevation wasn’t even hard on my breathing, because I had used my inhaler in the morning.
A labyrinth is not a maze. It’s a spiraling path that leads to the center, and then back out again. Each turn leads you closer to the center, but the turns go out and then in, so it is not a direct, linear journey. Just like life.
The labyrinth overlooked a gorgeous gorge, with canyon walls colored in millions of years of layers. I stepped on the path, reminding myself to focus on my steps, and only the path in front of me. The sun felt warm on my arms, and soon I was sweating. I do not like to sweat.
And then I thought of a friend who recently shared that, when she goes to the gym, she doesn’t like how it feels when it gets uncomfortable. But that if she just does twelve minutes of hard cardio, she knows she is conditioning her heart, and that’s what she wants. So I thought about how sweating is a great way for the body to release toxins. And I want that. So I was willing to sweat for a few minutes, because I knew it was good for my body.
And when my mind wandered off of the path and I realized that I was wondering where the trail was that I had taken to get there, and how would I get back, I paused, breathed, and, chuckled at myself. And when I was fully present again, I followed one foot after the other.
When I was almost to the center, and the path curved back out, I thought about how life is the same way. We think we’re so close to our goal, because it’s in view, but there may be more turns in the road before you get there.
I stood in the center of the labyrinth, touched a few of the trinkets and stones that people have left in the circle, then returned along the same path to the beginning. I said a few thank you’s, then found the trail back down the hill and met up with Marika and Tillie. We sat on a bench at Angel’s Lookout, overlooking Angel’s Gorge. I tried to name all of the variations of colors in the rocks, but settled on simply red, orange, brown, white, and tan.
We drove home and Tillie and I enjoyed some time together while Marika went back to the Sanctuary for a tour of the Wild Parrot area. Some parrots can live to be 60-80 years old, so most of the rescues there were abandoned after their owners’ deaths.
Later, we drove through the neighborhood to Ranchos Park, a big, green, grassy space with a few picnic tables and a softball field. We had the place to ourselves, so we let Tillie play and free-walk on her 25’ leash. She did NOT automatically come when I called her, but she did, eventually, come back every time. And she pooped a second time. And peed. In public.
We stopped at the local market for some bananas and lettuce, and a great photo op on the way home, then we all rested in bed for a little bit. I fed Tillie as we walked out the door to go for dinner at the Mexican restaurant down the street, hoping it would distract her. It was our first time leaving her for longer than twenty minutes. She found her way to the RV passenger seat to watch us leave, and I prayed that she would go back to eating and then relax.
We sat outside at the Mexican restaurant, and a couple with a large white dog sat at the next table. We said hi to the dog, and enjoyed a lovely conversation with them while we waited for our meals. They live in Wickenburg, AZ and were heading to Montana for the summer,. They offered to text us some directions to avoid the mess of construction traffic on I-15 through Salt Lake City.
We came home an hour and a half later and I asked the neighbor if he’d heard any barking or howling. He said he didn’t even know we had a dog. Tillie was relaxing on the sofa when I opened the door, then she came over to greet us, butt and tail hyper-wagging.
DAY 4: Saturday
It was an easy drive from Kanab to our Levan, Utah, where we had reservations to camp for the next two nights at the Painted Rocks campground in Yuba Lake State Park, about two hours south of Salt Lake City. Both of us were tired, so Marika drove the first hour, I drove the next hour and a half, and she took the last hour. The terrain was wide and open, through canyons and valleys with very little human presence. We passed horses grazing, antelope, groupings of mobile homes with sheds, and many wooden stalls arranged along the pullouts, with signs advertising Authentic Navajo Jewelry.
We drove through small towns, some with a grocery store, a couple of restaurants, a gas station, and at least one shop that sold Indian jewelry. And we stopped for gas when we changed drivers the second time, because there was a Flying J right there, so now we don’t have to fill up between here and our next spot two days from now.
Tillie continues to be an amazing traveler. She lies on the sofa for most of the ride, checks on us a few times, rests her head on Marika’s shoulder for a few minutes, then returns to her perch with a view.
It is high desert here, with low, scruffy bushes, no grass, but lots of green weeds with stickers that get in Tillie’s pads. All around us were brown mountains, dotted with the same green. The lake is not really a lake, it’s a reservoir created by the nearby Yuba Dam.
When we pulled in, it was windy, with 17mph gusts, and 59°, so we took a short walk after we settled in, then hung out inside, resting from the drive. After a three-way love fest and some crazy ball playing, Marika and Tillie napped in bed, and I sat at my writing desk, watching the rippling lake water from my window.
I could hear Marika’s out puffs of air, and the buzz of ATVs rolling through the campground and over the surrounding hill trails. The camping man next door was trying to split a 12” diameter log with a small hand axe, with absolutely no success. His wife was sitting on the picnic table under the ramada, trying to quiet their crying baby. Somewhere across the camp road, country music faded in and out of the wind.
And then a few hours later, even though the fridge and freezer were stocked, Marika drove into town eighteen miles away to pick up Chinese food. She was so excited to be supporting a small business in a small town. And we are forever searching for the perfect egg roll.
Tillie and I stayed home to fill the fresh water tanks, instead of hooking up directly to the camp spigot. This way we could be more water conscious and have a better sense of our usage, since we didn’t plan to dump again until Thursday.
After dinner, which was just OK, but fun, nonetheless, we drove down to the lake just in time to see the sunset. It was too windy and cold to want to get out of the car and walk, but I was sure we’d go back the next day. And I couldn’t wait to get into bed and go to sleep without an alarm.
DAY 5: Sunday
A good, quiet sleep with no alarm, and breakfast outside means we are officially camping. I sat at the cold metal picnic table with my bowl of dry cereal, a cup of coffee, and a view of the lake. Tillie was on her long cable, roaming the edges of our campsite. Marika sat in her camp chair, watching a rare Blackburnian warbler, a bright yellow, black, and white bird with an orange throat, flitting in a nearby bush.
It was cool and quiet, the neighbors were still inside, and we played Tag-Team-Tillie brushing, which she loved. And then her cable was double wrapped around a pole so I unleashed her for a minute to retie her, and she took off. She was walking too fast to catch her, then she ran down the hill into the brush. She looked back when I called, and again when I squeaked her toy, but then she kept going.
I was wearing slippers, Marika had on hiking boots, so she took the leash and some treats and followed Tillie’s path. I had faith that she was just exploring and would eventually come back. She finally came to Marika for a treat, got leashed up, and they headed home.
So, big lesson. Yes, she’ll come when she’s in a controlled environment, but she will also explore on her own when given the chance. And she needs to run in the mornings, but she’ll have to do that on a 20’ leash, unless we’re in a contained space.
After fours days of traveling and touristing, Sunday was our first day with no plans, no destination. This is what camping is all about. I spent most of the morning writing at my desk, something I haven’t done since October. I took breaks playing and walking with Tillie, and watching our neighbors pack up. I kept saying I was going for a bike ride, but then I’d sit back down to write a little more.
I also had a few to do’s on my list. One of them was to NOT worry about the drive through Salt Lake City. I’d been obsessing about what the couple had told us about the fifty miles of construction through there. But Marika said she would be behind the wheel, and she wasn’t freaking out, so I just needed to be patient and calm and trust that we would get through the shifting lanes safely and with ease.
And the reward would be three nights camping at the state park on Antelope Island, boondocking with no hookups, alongside antelope, bison and coyotes. And, if the no-see-um bugs weren’t too bad, we were going to rent e-bikes and explore the island.
By noon, the last of the weekenders had pulled out. There were only three other campers still in the campground, so the views were now open and endless. It was so quiet and relaxing, with birds right on our patio, that Marika suggested we stay an extra night. She checked with the rangers and yes, our spot was available. So we cut a day off of our next destination, to enjoy being at the lake for a whole extra day. Now we could really relax and lean in.
I finally got on my bike around three, and circled the campground several times. It was windy, but my legs were strong, and I made it up the steep hill without too much trouble, and really enjoyed the fast ride back down. I stopped to chat with one of the other campers, and picked up a self-pay envelope at the entrance station for our additional night.
And then we drove down to the lake. Three white pelicans floated in the water beyond the boat ramp. A Canada goose walked on the opposite shoreline. We heard the sharp chatter of the Blackburnian warbler in the bushes. The three of us walked as close to the water as we could before the dirt became too muddy, and we just stood there, taking it all in. You know I was saying a whole lot of thank you’s.
