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Wanderung 8

Swinging Sweetly through the Sunny South.

January-February 2005

February 2, 2005 - Driving towards west in California

We found that our gallon of milk was still good despite sitting in the refrigerator without power for 2 days, so we had a simple breakfast of cold cereal. Since I was perforce the sole cook until Monika's ankle healed, that was also a course that did not tax my extremely limited cooking skills ("You want fries with that?"). Hitching the trailer was also frustrating without Monika's normal cheerful assistance, as I had to run back and forth at some points to work both our jobs. Consequently we didn't start off until 10, but since we only planned about a 3-4 hour drive we figured that would be OK, and that's the way it turned out. As we passed through Yuma, Arizona, we saw RV park after RV park with rows and rows of trailers, 5th wheels, and motor homes arranged in neat rows. It struck me that this RV phenomenon is really an evolution of retirement in the U.S. It allows a full spectrum of retirement options from staying at a fixed place in one park for years to the fully nomadic lifestyle of those who continuously travel from place to place. This spectrum has a lot of semi-nomadic options in between those extremes, but they are certainly different than the "move to Florida" type of retirement common in the 70s and 80s. We definitely encountered many folks at each level of nomadic lifestyle and I was curious as to how all this might shift or transform our culture.

From Yuma we crossed the border into California, had our apples confiscated at an agricultural checkpoint, and descended steadily into the Imperial Valley. Although we passed a huge area of big sand dunes shortly after we crossed the border, the desert was gradually becoming more and more verdant. More importantly, however, was the vast network of irrigation canals that distributed water from the Colorado River to countless farms along our route. Clearly the soil, an old lakebed, was capable of growing almost anything given the right amount of water. Celery, lettuce, alfalfa, and even wheat were being grown in the fields alongside the road.

The wind was rising as we crossed the flatland toward the ridge of coastal mountains, and all of a sudden I saw a sign cautioning "High Profile" vehicles from using the Interstate 8 pass up ahead. Shortly afterwards we were stopped at a police roadblock, and he cautioned us that winds were gusting up to 70 mph in the pass and several trucks had been blown off the road. He said we could go on if we wanted to, but we opted to turn back to Seeley, California, where we put up at the Rio Bend RV Park for the night.

The park was one of the large RV parks populated mostly by the more settled flavors of RV people, but they had a few pull through sites for us transient types. Those transient sites were right on the shore of a pretty little artificial lake, and I was surprised that we seemed to have the best seats in the house, so to speak. I convinced Monika to sit in a camp chair and crochet while I unhitched the trailer, leveled it out, connected the utilities, and set it up inside. Then I whipped up a lunch of Gumbob while Monika called Chris to tell him where we had landed. The rest of the afternoon we spent at our usual computer chores, which thankfully for Monika's sanity she could still do with her ankle propped up. I took pictures of our little lake and a beautiful sunset.

After that had a simple dinner, watched our recently purchased "Man of La Mancha" DVD on Daddy (the version with Peter O'Toole and Sophia Loren), and turned in for the night.

Copyright 2005 by R. W. Holt and E. M. Holt
Prolog Map Epilog

January 05
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February 2005
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