For Lisa’s 53rd Birthday

Lisa on the scary bridge at the Japanese Gardens in Golden Gate Park

I am so blessed to call you, my friend. When I met you nearly 30 years ago, I was charmed by your easy laugh and enchanting conversation. We came from such opposite backgrounds but had a similar vision for the future. I sure wish I had pictures of us in our first attempt at gardening in the student plots at IU. All the hours we spent digging and laughing and carrying bucket after bucket of water from the creek to the plot. I have so few pictures of that time in Indiana. Things that stand out to me:

First visit in San Francisco 1994

I loved visiting you when you lived in San Francisco. I was jealous of your adventures and the courage to move to a new, big, legendary city—the cool apartment with the iconic bay window. You taught me how to ride the BART, and we stood in line for burritos as big as our heads. You could see the Golden Gate Bridge every day if you wanted to. 

Shhhh, don’t tell the kids we got ourselves candy

When you moved to Utah in 1995 (I think, or 96), I was in absolute heaven! I loved that we took up scrapbooking with a fierce passion. Definitely the reason I have more pictures of that time, it was so fun having the girls together, even though it was more war than peace. It makes me laugh now; can you imagine them having one of those drop-down-drag-out fights today?

Give me all the nickels!!!

This trip to Vegas just before you moved to New Hampshire was an absolute blast. The highlight is when you won the jackpot on the nickel machine (was it bananas?)!! I swear we took a picture of that, but I can’t find it anywhere. I do have this one with our enormous cups of nickels.

Watching the Jazz break our hearts in 1997

By our next trip to Vegas for my 41st birthday, the cups and coins had disappeared, definitely more hygienic if less fun. The highlights were of massages and pedicures and of sitting in our hotel room, watching an episode of Survivor that I downloaded from Apple because we missed that week’s episode. Do you still watch Survivor? I do! Maybe someday we’ll watch Survivor together again. I’ll keep my fingers crossed.

Blowing away at the top of Coit Tower 2018

The time we spent back in San Francisco in 2018 is an absolute highlight. That perfect little Airbnb, taking the bus downtown to listen to and absorb all the incredible wisdom from the best mindfulness and meditation teachers and taking that crazy fast bus ride that also seemed like the perfect tour through the city. Meeting your brother Jordan for the first time, and feeling like I’ve known him forever. But not that part when we went for dim sum, and a hint of shellfish wafted your way – scared the crap out of me. 

This is not that shrimp meal, it was the most delicious meal we had earlier that week

I dreamt the other night that we were in New Zealand (I still have it on my calendar for 2022, I hope you do too). We were sleeping in hammocks in a treehouse. How much fun are we going to have?

found note

I found this note on a scrap of paper while sorting through my books today.

Being willing to go is different than wanting to go. Yearning, dreaming, going no matter what and under any circumstance.

On an airplane going anywhere is where I want to be. Unless it’s home, gravity must be stronger in the Wasatch mountains. The landing is beautiful to be sure, but heavy. I feel heavier. My feet are enormous in my lead shoes. The gravity even pulls tears right out of my eyes. My chest is so very heavy. I can hardly breathe.

Travel during a Pandemic

I am heading home tomorrow, by airplane. I have a direct flight from Cabo San Lucas, Baja California to Salt Lake City. The world is in isolation, and I am moving from one isolated home to another but with a significant move in what is definitely NOT isolation. For a long time, the anecdotal Petri dish of disease has been an airplane. All those people crammed into a tube, breathing the same air, sharing a tiny bathroom, touching everything. I got this video in an email yesterday, I’m feeling much better about my flight.

Cabo San Lucas during a Pandemic

I arrived in Cabo San Lucas on March 9, preparing to have friends join me on March 15. Restrictions on travel recommended by the U.S. in those few days have left me isolated here, on the beautiful Baja Peninsula, alone. The weather is perfect, the sun rising and setting each day. The whales continue their migration north, even unobserved. If I didn’t turn on my computer to connect to the outside world I wouldn’t know anything was wrong. Is it better to feel helpless here, alone? or at home?

Notes from the Road

I am sitting in the Cherry Hill Park campground near (ish) to Washington D.C. We have our appointment with the FBI experience at 1:30 this afternoon. In order to get this free appointment we had to submit our social security numbers and birthdates to our congressman. Tomorrow we will have a tour of the capitol with a member of the congressman’s staff.

To get into the city we have to take a bus from our campground to the metro station and then the metro into the city. Today we get to time ourselves so we know how early we need to start in order to make our 10 am appointment tomorrow.

Our campground here is snug, all the sites are very close together. The picnic table is right next to our neighbors sewer line, it is falling out of the hole it should be very secure in. I’m concerned about eating next to what may be a massive raw sewage leak. The fire pit is also precariously close to this situation, I hope we can put our chairs out by the fire and roast a marshmallow or two without some horrendous stench or worse.

I just checked on all of our lines that are in the front lawn of our neighbors on the other side and they are as tidy as is possible. Ah the joys of close quarters.

My New Wheels

Rachel standing next to the Axis RV

First Steps

My palms are sweaty, and my heart is racing as I pull into the parking lot of Motor Sportsland. I park and walk into the building, scanning the lot full of motorhomes and imagining my life on the road. The first row filled with various brand-new sprinters, I feel like that is the one I should want, the Mercedes peace sign smiling at me. Isn’t this what the cool kids want, or the absolute coolest kids drive into sunsets? The Gen-Xer in me steers toward the much more practical used class C area, sensible adults buy used and gasoline-powered don’t they? I don’t know what I’m talking about which has prevented me from taking the short walk from my car to the reception desk for at least a decade. I choke out that I am looking for a used class-c motorhome and the woman behind the counter calls for Frank as I pace around reading the posters in the lobby. Studying the tiny trailer parked in the lobby, so small and so adorable. With its little booth table that turns into a bed and the little sink and two burner range. What more could anyone want?
Frank shows up, middle-aged with a decent beer belly, and shakes my hand. I’ve noticed lately that men who shake my hand are putting their index finger on the inside of my wrist, it throws me off. Have they always done this or is it a new thing? I make a mental note to start paying attention. Briefly explaining my plan with “always dreaming of driving across the country in a motorhome.” My heart is still racing, why do I care if Frank judges me?

Class C

I want a class C with a bunk over the driver’s seat. Henry will sleep in the bunk; the dream section for the kids and teenagers (is it?). I don’t want to overbuy or overestimate how much this will be used and how many people will be sleeping in it at any given time. For this trip it will be Henry and me for the first half of the journey, adding Colin when we meet up in Washington, DC. I will be doing all the driving. The boys have their licenses, but the memories of teaching them how to drive cars are still way too fresh and it is terrifying to think I can teach them how to drive something I myself am learning how to drive. But maybe this is the best time for us all to learn, give them the skill and confidence and myself the knowledge that I’m not actually in this alone.

Why so short?

Frank takes me to the motorhomes I scoped out online, I open and close the drawers. Sit on the mattress, the booth dining. Finally, I jump into the driver’s seat, and can’t see above the dash. Fumbling for the seat adjustments, I get out and examine the chair. It will go forward and back, but no up and down. Frank recommends a booster (really? as in a toddler seat?).
The second motorhome I like less than the first. The driver’s seat is short again, the ‘bunk over cab’ is so far over the cab it feels like I’m driving in a tiny tunnel (if I could see over the steering wheel that is). On our way back to the office I ask to look into the Winnebago Minnie Winnie. It is brand new; everything is in pristine shape. The driver’s seat adjusted to suit a person of petite stature. I could actually drive this without buying an adult booster seat. I did the very thing I was not supposed to do, and I fell in love with Winnie. I gave Frank a deposit and made an appointment to come back on Monday to drive her and solidify our commitment.

Second Thoughts

I had to cancel my Monday appointment with Frank, but before setting up another one, I decided to look at some other motorhomes in Minnie’s price range, and with more sleeping spaces. I grabbed Alice’s ankles and dove straight down that rabbit hole. I still loved the Minnie but decided that I liked the 22R better than the 22M that I had put a deposit on. I looked at floorplans that had twin beds. My eyes must be bleeding, they burn every time I blink. How many motorhomes are there? I’m back not knowing what I want, how much to spend, where to find it. I almost give up on this dream again. Every chore, walking the dog, cooking, eating, all of it postponed in the name of finding that perfect home on wheels. I finally had to make myself stop.

Class A

My heart is racing again. I’ve decided to journey to Draper, where RVs seem to grow and multiply. The first one I come upon is General RV. I walk to the reception desk with confidence, knowing exactly what I wanted to see and knowing that I wanted to go on a test drive. I look confidently at the men in the cubicles I pass and talk to the receptionist, doing my best to drop some RV lingo I’ve picked up online. She calls Brett, and he walks around the corner with a giant smile full of straight white teeth, his blond hair in a perfect quaff. He shakes my hand hard, without the wrist touch.
I explain that I want to see the used Thor Axis 24.1 he has advertised on his website. He walks me to a golf cart, this lot is much too large to explore by foot. As we drive up the lot, I see the Axis, but he informs me that it is the brand new 2019. We keep driving, and as we get to another Axis, he looks in the window, another 2019, or maybe 2020. I ask to walk through that one as he gets on the phone to find the used 2018. Oh, my fickle motorhome heart. The Axis is as dreamy as she appeared online. Best of all, she is a class A with a seat that fits me and a gigantic windshield. She has most of the things I hoped for, I open and close the drawers to make myself look like I have any idea what I am doing.

New or Used?

Brett locates the 2018, and we climb back on the golf cart for a wild ride around the lot. She is just as lovely as the 2019, identical actually, except there is duck tape on her awning and a crack in her windshield. I take her for a ride with Brett in Shotgun, and I zone in on my life on the road. Back in a cubicle that is filled with pictures of Brett, his beautiful wife and three darling toddlers in matching clothes. The walls are covered in certificates of achievement in RV sales. Brett is a big deal. We talk briefly about money, I’m not prepared to go into real negotiations yet.

Negotiation Sucks

Within 24 hours I get at least 15 texts and two phone calls from Brett. He tells me there is a brand new (never been used) 2018 Axis 24.1 on their lot in Michigan. In another text, he tells me about a Winnebago Intent that they just took as a trade. I start wondering why he doesn’t want me to buy his used 2018. He tells me he has never had anyone ask to test drive an RV. Could that be true?

Negotiation Really Sucks

When we talk on the phone, I give him my offer for the used 2018. There is a rush of negotiations, thankfully via text. I provide another offer, but this is for the new 2018 in Michigan. He calls back with his manager. Frantic back and forth discussion, they will consider the offer if I would be willing to finance the purchase and to get it off the lot in MICHIGAN before May 1st. It is April 25th, and I am supposed to be in Boston on the 27th. I tell Brett I will get back with him when I am back in town.

Another Opinion

Because I was in Kaysville that same day, I stopped into CampingWorld. Much to my surprise, there is an Axis pulled right up front. Talking to Glen, an older gentleman with gray hair and a Camping World polo. We sit in his cubicle, and I let him know I am interested in the Axis they have on their lot. It isn’t an Axis. This motorhome is a Vegas. It is the Axis with a different name, Glen tells me that the “Vegas” has a few more features but that they are basically the same. He invites me to think about a class C again and takes me to tour a few, pointing out the differences between a Thor and a Jayco. We walk through a Winnebago Navion that has the floorplan with twin beds and the Mercedes diesel, and even though my heart is fickle, it isn’t $124,000 fickle. Finally, we end up at the Vegas, that I already love. Of course, I’ll be out of town and he promises to call when I get back.

Decisions

As much as I want to buy my motorhome from Glen, I haven’t called him back yet, and he hasn’t called me. I text Brett because deep down I’d rather drive an “Axis” than a “Vegas” – I guess a name does make a difference. I give Brett two offers, a new lower offer for the used 2018 and an offer on the new 2019. As it turns out, on May 1st, all the new 2019 Axis dropped in price because the 2020s have arrived. Brett laughed at me for my low offers but said he would give them to his manager. We bickered back and forth on five phone calls in 30 minutes. Time to sleep on it, but I think I’m going to go forward with shiny Brett and sexy Axis.

Summer Home Shopping – search for the perfect Motorhome

In an attempt to become part of the cliché, I have decided to buy a motorhome and drive across the United States for Henry’s final summer break as a minor. We looked at the map of the US and determined that our route must take us to the South.

United States map from #beenapp

Here is our working itinerary on Roadtrippers

But the very first order of business is finding the motorhome. I’ve been researching this for years. There are so many different brands, classes and floor plans that it was hard to even know where to start. My sister Suzanne lived the dream of a motorhome a few years ago and shared her wisdom that I need to start somewhere and that this didn’t need to be the “perfect forever home.”

Growing Pains

I’m putting together the slideshow of baby/little kid pictures of all the 8th graders. I’m left deciding which to include of my own baby. These two picture captured right before and right as he is losing his baby teeth. I don’t know how to choose. I don’t know how to let this kid grow up. He is one of the very last boys who hasn’t hit that growth spirt quite yet. Most of his friends are a full head taller than he is. He is a tiny bit taller than me and Izzy, but not so tall.

Oh 8th grade. I’m so happy you are OVER! What an emotional roller coaster. But I am also very sad to see my baby leave middle school. I’ve loved all the music concerts. I love watching Henry play any instrument he picks up. The kid seems to know how to create a tune out of anything. I worry that he will lose interest in music with the vast number of kids in high school band or orchestra. He’s been ridiculously lucky to be in a small public middle school with a music teacher who just loves music and loves the kids. The last concert we went to, my last at this beloved school, Judson invited us to stay and listen to the musical story that each of these children has to tell.

I wish that for every child on this planet. That the world or someone will pause and listen to the musical story they have to tell.

As for this slideshow and the story of how this little boy has become a middle school graduate, I think I’m going with the pancake one. Mostly to remind Henry that he knows how to make them himself!

Last Days in Dublin

Dublin.
A great way to end this adventure. I want more. More stories, more history, more walks, more dinners, more childhood for my children. I want more moments. I struggle with feelings of scarcity. Profoundly pronounced right now. We will go home, and my children will not go on long walks with me after dinner. I will have to share them with their social worlds. Please press pause on this moment.