June 18, 2025
Home on Hiatus, Oregon May-June 2025
I turned on the ignition to Wandering Spirit this morning and with it felt my spirit ignite along with her, anticipatory joy! We’ve been sitting in stationary mode for about a month, and I worried she would feel neglected and forgotten, so I checked to see if she was ready to go and she jumped to life instantly – my trusted steed of adventures and my comfort, my home is almost ready to take off again. I am 19 days away from my next departure, and I am antsy to get back on the road. If I am honest, I was ready to go within a week of coming “home” into my respite, my hiatus from my travels.
Hiatus = a temporary gap, a pause, a break or an absence from what you are doing. For me, this pause allowed me to get a few things done; taxes (got a federal refund already but paid some to the state), get the cat’s blood work done (he’s doing great, thyroid medicine is working) and scheduled service for this rig (which will happen this Friday, the soonest I could get her in). I also dealt with some tasks that had been on my to-do list from my trip – a new 4” memory foam mattress topper (comfy), a new portable grill and small folding grill table – easier to pack and use when indulging my love of all things grilled. I purged excess clothes and unused stuff – feeling lighter and have been able to move most of my belongings into cabinets rather than in boxes on the upper bunk.
Family and Friends
I’ve had time to spend with family and friends, with more time coming for my ‘Golden Girl’ friends in another week. I was able to convince my sister, her husband and son to do moonshine tasting from the two bottles I brough back from Gatlinburg, TN. Actually, it wasn’t that hard to convince them, just pulled out the bottles and set up the shot glasses and they were in 😊. Oh, and I helped my sister assemble new patio furniture incorrectly (LOL). I met my eldest grandson’s new little family and special lady in his life (wait, does that make me great-grandma – I love it!). I celebrated my youngest sister’s birthday with all my sibs and their spouses present. I hiked with my sister, my sister-in-law and a special guest from Hawaii – my great nephew! (The photos of that hike won’t post for some reason). I went to my youngest grandson’s 8th grade promotion ceremony. I watched my middle grandson reconnect with my Audy-wee – they have always had a bond. Those are the types of special moments with family and friends I have always cherished in my life.
I’ve washed rugs, bedding and cleaned out more red dust from my journey through the southern states. I’ve planned my initial northern route and made reservations to get me to Wisconsin and then have visioned the route from the mid-west to Maine and my next turning point – Ives Road on Narragansett Bay in Rhode Island. Some of my earliest memories are there, running through the cornfield or among the horseshoe crabs barefoot and wearing those matching coats and snow pants ensembles, walking amongst snow drifts towering over my head. And of my very first best friend, who I will be able to see again on this trip – the thought makes me so happy. We last saw each other when we were 16 (after I got my driver license and VW Bug) but then we drifted apart. Social media has been good for reconnecting with people from my life that were dear to me.
I admit to feeling a letdown after 5 ½ months of travel adventures. Hmmm, got a plan in place for after the next trip but worry, will I be done with this gypsy lifestyle when the time comes? Thinking of ways to keep the adventure alive once I’ve settled in – when the time comes. I even felt excited the day I found the little town I’m near – even though there isn’t much too it. Now that I’ve allowed my inner wandering spirit free, she craves discovery, new insights, different perceptions and experiences to feed an appetite for the revisited, the new and the unexpected.
To keep sane, and feed that hunger, there have been days where I’ve had to jump into the car and drive somewhere just to reduce anxiety created by lack of movement or new sights.
Trillium Lake Afternoon Excursion
Yesterday was one such drive, where I went to a small lake I’ve been to multiple times since my move to the Portland area in 1983. It retains its beauty under the oversight of Mt. Hood – it is a popular place but still carries the pristine clearness of a forest gem. Audy was beyond himself to be around water, as always – you can see the tension in his leash where he strains to go play, particularly with the ducks swimming by. It was restorative for me to be up among the big trees and mountain blue waters; it reminded me of why I choose this part of the world as my home.
Pausing to share my concerns about this authoritarian government
Being temporarily parked in this fairly new RV Park made of asphalt level lots with little grass and small trees has also afforded me opportunity to add my voice to growing protest of this fascist dictatorship that is cancelling our democracy. I once promised myself to not make my blog too political, but my concern grows daily. I cannot sit aside and see the cruelty inflicted on marginalized groups and the destruction of our constitutional rights while I simultaneously wonder if I will receive a social security benefit in the future. There is too much going wrong to cover here, but I think my sign summed up my feelings on that man, his council of incompetents and the Project 2025 agenda.
So, I did get out there on No Kings Day and will join similar peaceful protest when and where I can. I don’t want to lose our country to an authoritarian regime – not for me, or for my daughter and grandsons. This is also part of my retirement adventures, one I didn’t anticipate but like the rest of the journey, dealing with storms of all types has been the norm.
Make no mistake, I am a patriot in the true definition. I love my country even as I see its flaw and historical mistakes. I am the daughter of two Navy veterans who swore to uphold the constitution – they were more conservative than I am, but they would not agree with what is going on today under this administration. I honor their service and those of others who fought this type of BS elsewhere.
So let me talk about the last few weeks of my journey, not as exciting as the rest of the trip – visiting national casino parks of Nevada (okay, not federally recognized as parks) and driving through familiar territory in Northern California.
The Journey Home, Utah– Drained pools, Thunderstorms and Hiatus Practice
The day I left the beautiful canyons in Utah, I first headed to a place I thought I could relax a few days, swim, catch some rays and hike. Unfortunately, this was a bust – the pool was bone dry, there was a big grass field behind the RVP (can you say hay fever?) and nothing within walking distance. The KOA manager was really nice and refunded the extra two nights when I decided to move onto Salt Lake City.
I spent 3 days in SLC, and did major housecleaning, still trying to leave behind red dust (which I am still finding in nocks and crannies even today) and was able to get the dirt, but not the bugs, off Wandering Spirt since they had an RV wash on premise. The pool, well managed to get some time at the pool between more thundershowers and high winds – the last afternoon, I felt like I was swimming in a forest lake with all the leaves in it. This was the start of getting the adventure out of the girl, at least temporarily.
The National Casinos of Nevada
I miss the old Nevada of large roadside casinos with free drinks, coin dropping slot machines and buffets. It seems what is left of the gambling industry is small locations, smaller hotels or stand-alone buildings that are more interesting in your feeding their machines $20 bills rather than letting a person win back their quarters every now and then to make the fun last. Tight isn’t the word anymore for the one-armed bandits, it’s more like suffocating squeeze from video machines that slurp in money like they were dying of thirst. The glitz, glamour and titillation of the penny slots seems to have dried up, but I made my contributions anyway in Winnemucca and Reno. I did manage to net $70 on my first night in West Wendover but donated it back at the next two stops.
At West Wendover, I arrived at 1-ish to an RV Park that was perhaps ¼ full and was greeted by a person who told me that check-in was 3pm. This was the first time anywhere on the whole trip that anyone was strict about their check-in policy. I pleaded old age, too many reservations in too many states with different check-in times, and stated I’d be happy to sit in my rig for 2 hours in front of the building if she wished. She relented and let me in, which I appreciated a lot because once I was hooked up and got my hot spot working for the TV, a hailstorm hit. The theme of this trip – wild and unexpected weather!
My last night in Reno, knowing the next day would be travel to my other hometown of the Rogue Valley in Southern Oregon, I splurged on a nice steak dinner with fancy drinks (a cherry pina colada and a palette cleanser of raspberry sorbet with champagne). I was disappointed in the Boomtown KOA here, the site backed up to a ravine overlooking the river but wasn’t weeded and had litter in the weeds. However, what I’ve learned on my travels is you can sleep anywhere for one night.
The Final Drive to Oregon
The last leg of this trip, the drive from Reno to the Rogue Valley was filled with memories of family trips to Reno, in its glory days. My little sister’s wedding, Blues Festivals or just some plain ole “why don’t we go down to Reno for the weekend” trips. I took the road we always traveled, through Susanville, up to Mt. Shasta to reconnect with I-5 with the ghosts of family fun riding in my rig – Mom and Dad, my siblings and even my daughter, we’ve all travelled this road together. Along the way I remember the car games, the music, the laughter driving down, and the places we’d stop for breakfast coming back while trying to pretend we weren’t hung-over and exhausted – ah, the good old days? And we always dropped a few pennies, dimes or quarters on the way out those days, positive we’d hit the big jackpot on our way home. We did. Not monetarily, but in terms of family love and memories.
What made me sad was to see the destruction along this beautiful route – the Goat Creek and Humbug fires of a few years back have left acres of scarred, blackened forest near Lassen National Park. If I recall properly, man-made. And then I saw Mt. Shasta, a nice coat of snow still and I felt like I was home again.
Overall, I covered 12, 616 miles on my first journey. Let’s see if I can match or beat it during the next trip. Coming soon – new episodes of Sandy’s Retirement Adventures. Or How a Woman, a Dog and a Cat Travel the USA in a Chevrolet? (Yes, my rig is on a Chevy platform- lol) Sorry, you may need to be a baby boomer to get the car jingle reference.
I’m ready to roll!
Namaste
