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Meandering
Down The Highway We
spent six weeks in Apache Junction, Arizona, visiting with Terry’s
parents and sisters, and while we enjoyed our family time, by late
February we were more than ready to scratch our bad case of hitch itch. As
in much of the country, it had been a cold, wet winter, and on our last
day in town we woke up to wind and pouring rain. It didn’t look like it
was going to let up anytime soon, and usually we’d just roll over and go
back to sleep on a day like that. But we had an appointment at the Camping
World in Mesa at 11:30 a.m., so I went outside and slogged through puddles
of water to empty and flush our black tank, top off our fresh water tank,
and disconnect our utility hookups. By the time I was finished, I was
soaked. With
everything ready to go, I fired up our Cummins diesel engine, retracted
our slide rooms and HWH leveling jacks, and we were ready to go. Well,
almost ready to go. The indicator light and warning beeper said the right
rear jack had not fully retracted. Sure enough, it was down about two
inches. I hit the automatic leveling button to deploy the jacks again, and
this time when I retracted them, they all came up fine. It
was only twelve miles to Camping World from Patio Gardens, so Terry drove
the van behind me. After weeks of sitting still, it was good to be back
behind the wheel of our motorhome.
New
Tires & Batteries I
have been shopping for tires and batteries for our Winnebago Ultimate
Advantage, and had narrowed the tire choices down to the Michelin X7A3 and
the Goodyear G670 RV. In my opinion, there really isn’t any real
difference in quality between the two, and I have had a lot of RVers
recommend both tires. In
the end, I chose the Goodyear tires, even though the price for all six,
mounted, balanced, and out the door, was $200 more. My reasons may not
make sense to a lot of people, but I have hated the Michelin Company ever
since Vietnam, and Goodyear is an American company, as opposed to
Michelin, a French outfit. The
only French things I like are fries, toast, and kisses. My not buying
their tires will not affect Michelin’s bottom line one iota, but it was
worth the extra money to me not to give them my business. We
also needed new house batteries, because the previous owner of our
motorhome had installed regular starting batteries instead of deep cycle
RV batteries. We went with Interstate batteries, which many RVers use and
seem to be happy with. Since we don’t plan to do as much dry camping as
we once did, we could not justify the price of absorbed glass matt (AGM)
batteries like we had in our bus conversion. It
rained hard off and on all day long, but it finally started to clear up
about 2 p.m., and there was quite a bit of blue sky showing. Of course, by
the time they were finished working on the motorhome about 3:30, it had
started pouring again. That lasted until we got the van hooked up to our
Blue Ox tow bar, did our light check, and were ready to take off. Then the
rain stopped. Go figure. We
had planned to boondock in the Camping World parking lot if it was getting
close to rush hour when they were finished with our work, but the lot was
still packed, and there wasn’t anyplace to park. So we drove 86 miles to
Gila Bend, where we spent the night dry camping in the huge gravel parking
lot at the Elks lodge. It was a windy trip, but we made good time, and at
last the rain had stopped. There
were half a dozen other RVs at the Elks lodge, and when I went inside to
register, we ran into longtime readers Bob Parker and Donna Huffer, who
are also on their way to Yuma for our rally. A
Slow Start To The Day It
was cold in Gila Bend overnight, and I was too lazy to get up and turn on
the furnace, so instead I shivered half the night. Finally, about 7 a.m.,
I got up for a bathroom trip, and when I came back to bed I snuggled up to
Miss Terry and dropped into a deep sleep. So deep that finally somewhere
around 10:40 a.m. Terry woke me up and asked if I ever planned to get out
of bed. There were several RVs at the Elks lodge overnight, but by the
time we opened the curtain over our windshield, there was only one travel
trailer, parked back at the far edge of the lot. We
puttered around for an hour or so, checking e-mail and returning a couple
of phone calls, and finally got on the road about noon. But we only had
about 120 miles to go, so there was no pressure. It
was a beautiful day, and the storm from the day before had blown itself
out. We cruised west on Interstate 8, stopping only long enough to pull
into a rest area for a quick walk around the motorhome and van, making
sure everything was still in one piece. It’s always a good idea to stop
every hundred miles or so to walk around and stretch your legs. It gives
you an opportunity to check your tires, be sure your tow bar and safety
cables are still secure, and look for anything that might need attention. I
like comparing how our Winnebago motorhome compares to our MCI bus
conversion on steep grades. There is a small mountain range just east of
Yuma on Interstate 8, and in the past, if I had a good running start at
it, we’d top out in the bus at about 15 to 18 miles per hour. In the
Winnebago, we stopped at the rest area just before the uphill climb began,
so there was no running start, and I had to slow down for a big truck, but
we still hit the top at about 50 miles per hour. What a difference!
However, I still much prefer the Jake brake in the old bus to the exhaust
brake on the Winnebago. I just felt more secure with it on steep
downgrades.
Yuma We
spent most of the next few days running around getting the pizzas for our
rally night pizza party arranged, ordering
25 to 35 dozen donuts every morning of the rally from the Wal-Mart
bakery, making copies of rally schedules and other forms, and a hundred
other details that needed done.
I
had never seen a Harrier land or take off before, and it is pretty
interesting. When they come in to land, they hover and then set down
slowly, instead of making a high speed landing like other aircraft. It got
a little loud sometimes as they roared past, but that’s the sound of
freedom, baby! A
week or so before our rally began, Tom and Barbara Westerfield, and Greg
and Jan White arrived at the fairgrounds as part of our advance staff, and
boy, did we have a lot of work for them to do! Tom and Barbara handle the
technical end of technical things, making sure the seminar speakers have
the audio-visual equipment they need and that it is working properly, as
well as 1001 other tasks. Greg and Jan immediately got busy soliciting
door prizes from the local merchants, and they did an excellent job. Right
behind them, Mike and Elaine Loscher came over to talk about some rally
parking and registration details. Mike is our welcoming committee at every
rally, and he does a great job of greeting folks as they arrive, and
determining if they need to dump their holding tanks, need handicapped
parking, etc. Terry says she could not handle the crowds at registration
without Elaine’s calm, steady presence, helping her and the registration
crew get everybody taken care of. Just about the time Mike and Elaine
left, Bill Becker came by to pick up the rally T-shirts, so he and Mabel
could start sorting and folding them. We sure do appreciate all of our
volunteers! Gypsy
Gathering Fun Besides
being an expert instructor, my friend Dennis Hill from the RV Driving
School really knows how to handle a camera, and he was busy taking photos
at the rally, and was gracious enough to allow me to use some of them in
the blog, so you can see all the fun you missed if you weren’t there.
Miss
Terry was just as exhausted, but she’s never too tired to laugh. Terry
shoulders so
The
rally days were filled with 65 seminars, and the feedback we got on them
is very positive. I didn’t worry about security at the rally, because I
had Art Fennell to keep an eye on things. With this big guy covering my
back, I can sleep tight. Of course, having 5,000 U.S. Marines right across
the street helped too!
And
Then They Were Gone It
was a busy week that went by way too fast. Before we knew it, it was
Friday morning and we were serving coffee and donuts to our rally
attendees, saying goodbye, and wishing them a safe trip to wherever they
were headed next. There were lots of hugs as RVers wished us well,
congratulated us on a great rally experience, and promised to see us
somewhere down the road. By
noon, most of the RVs had departed from the Yuma Fairgrounds, usually
after making a stop at the dump station on their way out, to empty their
gray and black tanks. The place sure looked empty after being filled with
motorhomes, fifth wheels, and travel trailers for two weeks, first for the
Arizona Good Sam rally and then our Western Gypsy Gathering rally. We
waited until everybody else had pulled out before we made our trip to the
dump station, and then we parked in the same back corner of the
fairgrounds where we had been before the rally. As soon as we were
situated, an installer from Redlands Truck & RV started installing a
set of Koni shock absorbers on our Winnebago Ultimate Advantage. Our
motorhome rides pretty good already, but the new Koni shocks should make
it even better. Thanks Keith Shomaker and crew, for your great service!
Redlands was one of our rally vendors, and I was really impressed with
them, as were many rally attendees who kept them busy with installations. Later
on Terry and I, Greg and Jan White, and Mike and Elaine Loscher went to an
early dinner at Chretin’s, a wonderful Mexican restaurant that Miss
Terry pronounced one of the best she has been to in our travels around the
country. That’s saying a lot! We had a pleasant meal, just unwinding,
rehashing the rally events, comparing notes on what we did right, what we
did wrong, and how we can make it better next year. Back
at the fairgrounds, we said our goodbyes to Mike and Elaine, who were
leaving early the next day, bade Greg and Jan goodnight, and headed inside
for a quiet evening just trying to let the kinks and aches seep out of our
bodies. We are confirmed night owls, never going to bed before midnight or
1 a.m., if not later, but after a week of getting up early and going to
bed late during the rally, Terry was sound asleep by 10 p.m., and less
than an hour later, I was sawing logs too. It was a busy week, a great
rally, and we’re sure glad it’s over! Thanks to everybody who came,
and especially to our hardworking volunteers! Saturday
morning we slept in, and then lay in bed snuggling and talking about how
nice it was to be lazy for a while. We finally opened the shades and
greeted the world sometime close to noon, just in time to say goodbye to
Tom and Barbara Westerfield, who were headed to Tucson for yet another
rally. Talk about gluttons for punishment! The
Q, A Bridge, And Bad Nick The
next morning we left the Yuma County Fairgrounds, our home for the last
several weeks, and drove 85 miles north on U.S. Highway 95 to Quartzsite,
with Greg and Jan following us in their American Eagle. They had never
been to this part of Arizona, so I played tour guide on the handheld
radio, pointing out the Kofa National Wildlife Refuge, Yuma Proving
Grounds, and Castle Dome as we motored north. In
Quartzsite, better known simply as the Q to a lot of RVers, we left the
main highway long enough to make a half loop around town to give them a
feel for the place, though there were only a handful of RVs scattered
about here and there, as opposed to the thousands that cover the desert in
January and February. From
Quartzsite, we continued north on State Route 95 through Parker, then
along the Colorado River through what is known as the Parker Strip, a land
of dramatic mountains, cool water, and scenic beauty. I always love this
drive, it’s a good two lane road, with plenty of pullouts if you need
them. However, unlike past trips in our old MCI bus conversion, we
didn’t need them. The Cummins diesel engine powered us right up the
hills without blinking an eye! Arriving
in Lake Havasu City, we parked both rigs at the Elks lodge, and I went
inside to obtain permission to leave them there for a couple of hours,
while Greg unhooked his Dodge pickup. Seeing the London Bridge was on
Jan’s bucket list, so we drove across it, and then back again, then we
parked and got out to see the historic bridge and checked out the shops in
the small English themed village in the bridge’s shadow. We
grabbed a quick snack, then got back on the road and drove another 23
miles north, to hook up with Interstate 40. We took the interstate a few
miles west to Exit 1, then got onto a narrow two lane road that had more
nasty twists and turns than a politician’s biography. I’m sure Greg
and Jan, following along faithfully behind, wondered just what kind of an
adventure this crazy man was taking them on, and Miss Terry uttered a
reservation or two herself. But, eventually the road smoothed out, we
rejoined State Route 95 through the Fort Mojave Indian Reservation, and
came in to Bullhead City, where we crossed the Colorado River into
Laughlin, Nevada. Harrah’s
Casino in Laughlin has an RV parking area where you can dry camp for
$5/night, or $25/week, but every other casino seemed to have signs
advertising free dry camping, so what’s up with that? We saw lots of RVs
dry camping in designated parking lots at casinos all through town.
We
registered, parked our motorhomes, then headed back to the casino for
dinner. If you join their free Players Club, you get a free T-shirt, and
on Monday and Tuesday nights, two prime rib buffets were $9.95 with the
Players Club card. The
line to register for the Players Club was long, and the line for the
buffet was even longer. I must have been tired and cranky, or else the
bunch of French Canadians in line in front of us just ticked me off when
they let some of their friends cut in ahead of us. People in line started
to grumble, and Bad Nick emerged and told them that was bulls&%# and
to go to the back of the line. Two did, but one lady stood firmly and said
“These are my friends!” I told her that Greg was my friend, but if he
tried that crap, I’d throw him out of line too! One
of the guys in their group turned around and told me in very good English
it was okay, she was with him. I assured him that it wasn’t okay, and
that the next time I came to his country, I’d be sure to be a rude jerk
too, He gave me that smirk some folk use when they think they are being
funny, and played the old “I
don’t understand English” thing with me. I told him that I knew that
he understood me very well, and that he understood exactly what I thought
of him and his crowd. I’m sure I embarrassed Miss Terry, Greg, and Jan,
but once in a while somebody has to stand up on their hind legs and tell
the jerks of the world where to get off. Besides the only place more
dangerous to be than between a mama bear and her cubs is between a fat man
and his food! On
To
Vegas We
were up way too early again the next morning, a habit that I am going to
start working very hard to break. But we had reservations at the Thousand
Trails in Las Vegas, and the person I spoke to on the telephone there
advised us to try to arrive mid to late morning for the best selection of
RV sites, because the campground was pretty full. We
pulled out of the hilltop RV dry camping area provided by the River Palms
Casino at 8:30 a.m. and began the seventeen mile long uphill climb from
the Colorado River to U.S. Highway 95. I
was curious to see what our Winnebago would do on a hill like that from a
standing start, so I just left
it in high (sixth) gear and let the Allison automatic transmission do its
thing, instead of manually downshifting. We averaged between 38 and 40
miles per hour on the steepest sections of the road. I can live with that. Greg
and Jan followed along behind us in their 1999 American Eagle motorhome,
and since their coach has the same Spartan chassis and 350 horsepower
Cummins diesel engine that ours does, and we both run with the Silverleaf
VMSpc engine monitoring system on, I was on the radio comparing notes with
Greg. On the steepest inclines, the computer showed I was getting about
2.7 miles per gallon, while Greg reported back that his was showing about
3.5. Once we got onto U.S. 95, we had a long, gradual climb toward
Searchlight. On that, I was averaging about 6.7 miles per gallon, and Greg
reported just over 7. Since
our odometer just turned over 40,000 miles, and Greg’s rig has about
91,000 miles on it, I don’t know if his is more broken in or what. Of
course, the 3/4 ton Ford
extended length cargo van we tow probably weighs a little more than
Greg’s Dodge Dakota pickup, so that may be a factor too. We
arrived in Las Vegas about 10:30, and Greg and Jan dropped off to stay at
another nearby RV park. Our GPS steered us wrong, telling me to take Exit
70, instead of 69, where Greg got off. This resulted in us coming back
toward the Thousand Trails from the wrong direction on busy, divided
Boulder Highway. But I got lucky and managed to make a U-turn at a traffic
light with no problems, and got back to the campground. Thousand Trails Our
Thousand Trails membership gives us 50 nights of camping a year in
standard campsites at no charge other than our annual dues, and any nights
over 50 cost $5 a night. Most of the RV sites at the Las Vegas Thousand
Trails are pretty tight and don’t leave much room for parking cars, or
doing much outside. Our extended length van made things even tighter. Having
a neighbor sitting outside smoking, with the cigarette smoke coming in our
open windows, wasn’t our idea of fun. We’ve had this happen several
times before, and the offenders always say they smoke outside so that
their RVs do not smell like cigarettes. No, instead, ours does! I used to
enjoy an occasional cigar or pipe myself in the past, and I have nothing
against smokers, as long as their habit doesn’t impact my life. When it
does, that’s a different story.
I’ll
Take The Detour We
did a lot of sightseeing while we were in Las Vegas. One day Terry and I,
along with Greg and Jan, drove about 30 miles down to Boulder City, which
was the base camp for the workers who built Hoover Dam, back in the 1930s.
At the time, it was the world’s largest concrete structure, and a statue
at the dam honors the men who undertook this gargantuan task. Another
major construction project has been going on at the dam for a few years
now, construction of a bridge that will bypass the current narrow, winding
U.S. Highway 93 that crosses the dam, and is no longer adequate to handle
the 14,000 vehicles that travel it daily. We wanted to see the progress on
the bridge, so Greg drove us down to the dam, inching along in a long line
of traffic moving at a snail’s pace. That was okay with us, we all four
get along well, and we enjoyed the views of Lake Mead as we drove into the
canyon.
The
project’s website says that the bridge will be finished by September of
this year, and the bypass will be carrying traffic by November. I don’t
know, it looks like there is still a lot of work to be done before that
happens. Our
next stop was the Camping World in Henderson, where we didn’t find
anything that we couldn’t live without. By then it was late afternoon
and we were all getting hungry. Jan was in the mood for Mexican food, so
we stopped for an early dinner at Lindo Michoacan in Henderson, which was
named Best Mexican Restaurant in a Las Vegas newspaper survey. As
I’ve said before, Miss Terry loves Mexican food, but after living in
Arizona for years, she is a bit of a snob about it, and it takes a lot to
impress her. I asked her how Lindo Michoacan rated on a scale of 1 to 10,
and she gave it a 25! Our waiter was very attentive, the portions were
huge, and the view of Las Vegas from the windows that make up one wall
were magnificent. Even after eating as much as we all could, there was
still enough left over to take home for lunch the next day. Jan and Terry
assured Greg and I that this was a place we’d be going back to before we
left the area! Casinos,
Crowds And Chow Years
ago, a national newspaper trade group that I belonged to held its annual
convention in Las Vegas, and I used to enjoy an occasional trip to Sin
City. The casino buffets were affordable, and even if you weren’t a
gambler, people watching could provide hours of free entertainment. But
both myself and the city have changed over time, I’m not sure if either
one for the better.
This
is a fantasyland for grownups, and whether you like The
country may be in a recession, but you wouldn’t know that from Las
Vegas! The streets, sidewalks, restaurants, and casinos are all packed
solid. Playing
tourist can work up an appetite, and Las Vegas has more places to stuff
your face than fleas on a hound dog! Every casino has a buffet, but unlike
the old days when I came here every year, the $1.49 breakfast buffet and
$5.99 dinner buffet are ancient history. These days you can expect to pay
a minimum of $15 for a buffet dinner, and over $30 per person at many of
them! The Village Seafood Buffet at the Rio Casino is very highly rated,
but at $38 a person, we’ll never know. We
did find a good deal at the Boulder Station Casino, a few miles from
downtown, and not far from the Thousand Trails campground. After
registering for our free players club cards, we paid $15 each, including
tax, for an excellent selection that ranged from Chinese food to prime
rib, barbecued ribs, and a half dozen other entrees, along with plenty of
sides and a great dessert bar. Everything was delicious, and we promised
ourselves we’d go back again while we’re in town. Pawn
Stars We
loved playing tourist again with Greg and Jan. We had a lot of fun hanging
out with them, and because Greg was doing all of the driving, I got to see
a lot more than I do when I’m behind the wheel. The
Gold and Silver Pawn Shop has been in Las Vegas for decades, and is the
setting for the popular History Channel reality show Pawn Stars, which
airs on Monday evenings. Think of Pawn Stars as sort of an Antiques
Roadshow for the working man. Since
the program debuted last year, the pawn shop has become a tourist
attraction, and when we first drove by, there was a long line of people
waiting to get inside. But on another day, traffic was a lot slower all
over town, and we walked right in. The
first thing we noticed is that the shop is much smaller in real life than
it appears on television. Ahh… the magic of cinematography! This also is
not like most pawn shops. There were no tools, electronics, cameras, or
firearms on display, like you’ll find in most pawn shops. I’d say that
80 percent of the inventory was jewelry. They also sell a lot of souvenirs
promoting the hit show.
Over
The Hump To Pahrump In
our nearly eleven years as fulltime RVers, we have stayed at many of the
Escapees RV club campgrounds, from Washington state to Florida, Texas,
Missouri, Tennessee, and Arizona, to name just a few. One we had never
visited was the Escapees Pair-A-Dice co-op in Pahrump, Nevada. Pahrump
is about 50 miles west of Las Vegas, via State Route 160, a good, mostly
two lane road that passes through the Toiyabe National Forest, climbing
from 2300 feet in Las Vegas to 5500 feet at Mountain Springs Summit,
before dropping down to about 2300 feet in Pahrump. Locals call this drive
“going over the hump. We
took the trip “over the hump” to Pahrump, and I’m sure glad we never
tried to make the trip in our old MCI bus conversion! The V-8 engine in
Greg White’s Dodge pickup was getting a workout as we made the climb. We
know a lot of folks who really like Pahrump because it is quieter and much
more laid back than busy Las Vegas. But I have to be honest and say that
we were just not impressed. There is little, if anything, aesthetically
pleasing in the community, just a lot of businesses stretched out along
the main highway, a casino or two, a scattering of RV parks, and lots of
subdivisions springing up out of the desert. The
office was already closed for the day, but we drove through the Escapees
RV park, which was pretty full. But the few people we saw out and about
didn’t seem too welcoming as we drove past and waved. Basically, the
campground is all gravel and dirt, with some desert landscaping. It’s
just not our cup of tea. Pahrump
is in Nye County, where prostitution is legal, and Pahrump is home to two
legal brothels, the Chicken Ranch and Sheri’s Ranch, which are located
next door to each other. Well,
who can go to Pahrump and not at least drive by to check something like
that out? Not us, obviously.
Business
seemed to be rather slow, there were just a few cars in the parking lot at
either place, and I don’t know how many were there just to shop the
souvenir stores that both businesses have. But if you saw me there,
that’s all I was doing, shopping for souvenirs! That’s my story, and
I’m sticking to it! Actually
Miss Terry is pretty open minded, and said I could go in and take the
tour. But then she said something about me having to go into quarantine
for 30 days afterwards, so I decided to pass. Saying
Goodbye To Sin City We
spent two weeks in Las Vegas, and while it was fun, we were ready for
something different. We have had an absolute blast playing tourist with
Greg and Jan. It has been like going on vacation from our permanent
vacation, and all four of us agree that we have seen things and done more
than we would have if we had not all been together. There
was only a steady breeze blowing when we left the Thousand Trails. We had
a little bit of wind coming out of Las Vegas, and a couple of gusts hit us
on U.S. Highway 95 somewhere around Searchlight, but by the time we turned
onto State Route 163 for the seventeen mile long, steep downhill trip to
Laughlin, the wind had died. The
Winnebago’s exhaust brake handled the downhill run easily, and once we
crossed the Colorado River into Arizona, we began another long uphill
climb on State Route 68. Our Cummins diesel engine had to work a bit on
this one, and we got down to 39 miles per hour for a short stretch, but
since it was a nice divided four lane highway, we just got in the right
hand lane and chugged right along. We
arrived at my friend Mike Howard’s home in Kingman, where we spent a few
days hanging out with my old friend and reliving past adventures and
misadventures we have shared. We
had originally planned to stay in Kingman about a week, but a combination
of my friend Mike not feeling very well, terrible cell phone and internet
service, and a scheduling mix up changed our plans. We
had been in contact with the marketing folks at the Grand Canyon Railway
in Williams, Arizona about doing a story on the train ride to the Grand
Canyon. The original plan was to arrive in Williams on a Monday, stay
overnight at the Grand Canyon Railway RV Park, and ride the train Tuesday. But
somehow communications between their main office in Denver, Colorado and
the folks in Williams went awry, and after a lot of phone calls back and
forth, and a false start or two, it was decided that we’d go to Williams
a few days earlier, and take the train to the Grand Canyon on Easter
Sunday. I
know that Mike was disappointed to see us leaving so soon, but if he’s
anything like me, the last thing I want to do when I’m under the weather
is have to entertain guests. We hope to stop in and see him again in a few
weeks, after we spend some family time with my daughter in Show Low. What
a difference a year makes! Exactly one year ago to the day, we left
Kingman headed for our old hometown of Show Low. I re-read my blog post
for that trip, and noted that it was a slow, torturous trip uphill, and
that between Seligman and Williams, we were crawling along on the shoulder
of Interstate 40 in our old MCI bus conversion at 10 miles per hour,
radiator misters on, and temperature gauge just bumping the red line. This
trip, in our Winnebago, we were doing over 50 miles per hour, and passing
eighteen wheelers on the steep climbs. There are a lot of things about
that old bus that I really loved, but driving it in the mountains wasn’t
one of them. Once
we arrived in Williams and were settled in at Grand Canyon Railway RV
Park, we went looking for someplace to eat. A girl at the railroad depot,
and somebody at the local Visitor Center, both recommended the Pine
Country Restaurant, which features 25 different pies, baked fresh daily.
Well, let me at them! You
can see a feature story on our train ride to the Grand Canyon in this
issue, but let me just say that it is an experience everyone should have
at least once in their life. Caught
In A Dust Storm The
wind blew hard all Sunday night, rocking and rolling our motorhome We had
decided to sit tight in our RV site at Grand Canyon Railway RV Park in
Williams, but the next morning, when I went to the office to extend our
stay, I learned that they were booked up and that our site had been rented
so we couldn’t stay there. What they did have available just wouldn’t
work for us, and we decided that if we had to move anyway, we’d just
move on down the highway. We
were only 165 miles from our destination in Show Low, Arizona, and we knew
that we had several options if the wind was too bad and we had to get off
the road. So we set off like a herd of turtles, and though the wind was
pretty stiff from the southwest, and we didn’t appreciate a few gusts
that hit us along the way, overall it was no big problem, just a typical
windy day in northern Arizona. We climbed up to Flagstaff, and then
started downhill. At Meteor Crater, we could see a lot of dust up ahead,
and debated whether or not we should stop, but (foolishly) decided to
press onward. A
few miles down the road the world suddenly disappeared, and we found
ourselves driving in almost zero visibility, caught in the worst dust
storm I have ever experienced; and I lived in and traveled all over
Arizona for many, many years! We
were barely able to see the rear end of an RV ahead of us, and we stayed
as far back as we could for safety and still maintain visual contact, all
the while hoping that some idiot driving too fast for conditions didn’t
slam into the rear of us. But traffic was just crawling along, so we were
okay. It took us two or three miles, and several lifetimes, to drive out
of the worst of the storm, and then the road was relatively clear again
and we motored on eastward, counting our blessings. We
learned later from readers Kathy and Dave Bossert, who were wise enough to
stop at Meteor Crater RV Park, that the state police closed Interstate 40
down soon after we passed by, and it remained closed until 8 p.m.. Once
we turned south on State Route 77 in Holbrook, we had a headwind to
contend with, but no more than we were used to on that stretch of highway.
We made the rest of the trip just fine and arrived at Juniper Ridge
RV Resort, where our friends Tim and Sue Daugherty have a lot that they
have graciously offered us the use of while we spend some time here in our
old hometown. We’ll
be here a few weeks, spoiling grandkids, reminding my daughter Tiffany
what a wonderful Dad she has, and sponging the occasional dinner off of
old friends from our days before we became fulltime gypsies. Then we’re
off down the highway again, in search of new adventures. Somewhere along
the line, I hope we see you in our travels. Click
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I
don’t think I have ever seen any Camping World as busy as the one in
Mesa was that day. The entire parking lot was jammed, and Terry could not
even find a place to park the van, let alone me the motorhome. I finally
left it double parked and went inside to check in with the service
department, and they pulled it right into one of the work bays. 
After
a stop for fuel at the Flying J on the east side of Yuma, we arrived at
the fairgrounds and stopped to check in at the office. They had several
other events going on before our rally, so we found a quiet spot away from
the main area, next to the stables, which were not being used. We had 20
amp electric and water, which is plenty to sustain us indefinitely.
The
fairgrounds is right across the street from the Marine Corps Air Station
Yuma, and most of the day Northrop F5 and AV-8B Harrier jets were flying
overhead. It was amazing to see how closely those pilots fly in formation.
You
all know about Good Nick and Bad Nick, but here is a picture of Tired Nick
taken Monday night, after operating on adrenalin, nervous energy, and only
about six hours sleep in two days. 
much of the burden in everything we do. While I get to be up on stage
goofing off and telling my little stories, she’s the one behind the
scenes who makes sure the donuts get ordered every morning, the coffee
gets made, the day pass visitors are handled, and a 1,001 other details
that I can’t even begin to list. Without her, there wouldn’t be a
Gypsy Gathering rally, or a Gypsy Journal at all. They say that behind
every great man is a great woman, and I’ll tell you what, behind this
very mediocre man is one hell of a lady! I love you, baby. How did a guy
who looks like me ever get such a beautiful, intelligent lady to even give
him a second glance? It’s one of the great mysteries of life. 
Here
is a shot of the crowd gathering for our official welcoming Monday night,
which kicked off the rally. For most of my life, I have had such stage
fright that the idea of getting up in front of even a dozen people and
speaking terrified me and made me physically ill, but now I’m perfectly
comfortable on stage talking to crowds like this, numbering in the
hundreds.
Then
a fine young man from the Yuma Marine Air Station, Lance Corporal Benson,
spoke to the crowd about the mission of the air station and its role in
training combat pilots for overseas deployment. It did this old
veterans’ heart proud to see everybody on their feet, applauding and
giving Lance Corporal Benson such respect for all he and the rest of our
men and women in the military do for us. I know I wasn’t the only vet
there with a lump in his throat, and a tear in his eye.
Once
all of the welcoming and introduction duties were handled, I was only too
happy to relinquish the stage to David Bradley, who put on a wonderful 90
minute concert that had the entire crowd clapping and singing along to the
music.
We
had 55 vendor booths, and our vendors all seemed to be doing good business
as people shopped for everything from satellite TV systems to tire
pressure monitors, jewelry, and RV insurance. If you need it, was probably
for sale in our vendor area.
We
stopped for the night at the River Palms Casino, which has a free dry
camping area high on a hill, with great views of the casino lights below.
Security told us we could get a free permit to stay up to 14 days. Then we
would need to renew the permit, but we could do so for as long as we
wanted to.
Right
across from our cramped RV site was a large corner site sitting empty, so
I went up to the guard shack and asked about it. The ranger on duty said
that it was a 50 amp electric site instead of the standard 30 amp sites,
and there was an up-charge of $3 a day for it. The site was easily half
again as large as the standard 30 amp site we were in, and I jumped on it.
Here is a picture of our first site, now occupied by the Medallion fifth
wheel in the center. And here is our 50 amp site, which is much larger. We
had more power, more space, more privacy, and all for $3 a day! It was
probably the best deal in Las Vegas!
Looking
up from the ground, I can already tell you that this is one bridge I
won’t be driving over, I don’t care how strong the supporting
structure is. I’ll take the longer detour south through Searchlight and
Laughlin and then over to Kingman, Arizona.
We
took a ride down the Strip one night, admiring the bright lights and
unique architecture of the casinos, and marveling at the crowds. The folks
who design the casinos truly are artists, and on a drive down the Strip
you can see everything from castles to pyramids, the Statue of Liberty,
the Eiffel Tower, and pirate ships.
angels, demons, winged goddesses, Elvis impersonators, drag queens,
magicians, country superstars, or anything in between, an hour on the
Strip will provide just what you’re looking for. I was glad Greg White
was driving, so that I could eyeball everything around us.
One
of the most popular members of the cast is the bumbling Austin Russell,
know to one and all as Chumlee. Hmm… a big guy who is charming, clumsy,
and named Russell? Could I have found a long lost cousin here? Miss Terry
took a photo of Chumlee and me. Do you see any family resemblance? After
Terry took the picture, we quickly moved away to let the folks behind us
say hello and get his autograph.
We
stopped to take pictures of both houses of ill repute, and noted that both
offered free tours, and that ladies are welcome. Terry and Jan decided
that seeing the places from the road was probably just fine, thank you
very much!