Oh dear, what have we done?
So, we went back to Tucson and we loved it. We had a wonderful three weeks there. It was almost time to leave for Los Angeles and it was time for an oil change for Queenie. We named her that as a shortcut to avoid enunciating m o t o r h o m e 12 times a day. It seemed an appropriate name because she was as large and white as an ocean liner, i.e. the Queen Mary (Okay, it’s a little dated).
She had been a good girl and we loved her. She was cozy and candles made her glow with warmth and hominess in the dark windy night. We were waiting and to while away the time, I asked a salesman in the RV place if we could take a look at the Phaeton on the lot. Less than 24 hours later, we had traded Queenie and bought the Phaeton.
How to explain this bit of insanity? We loved what we were doing – living in a place for a while and moving on when we felt the spirit push us. We would not go back to a house NOT on wheels, not for a good while at least. “Cozy” also meant stacking your clothes, hair-dryer, etc. on the stove while you were in the tiny Barbie bathroom and one person in the kitchen and the other waiting in the bedroom for an opportunity at the toaster. And other things largely around the gas engine –v- diesel. Diesel = more power, more speed, more weight pulled. (And more $, don’t mention that)
So, we bought the Phaeton. It seemed like the right thing to do.
Man daunted by new toy
A day later, we were moving in. They park the new one next to your old one and you move. Sounds easy enough.
Movin’ day
But it was 97 degrees and sunny that day, probably 110 on the black top parking lot. And it was just like any move: there is way more stuff than you thought and it takes way more time. And we still had to drive 200 miles. We began to just shove stuff anywhere. I watched in dismay as cupboards and closets filled up.
First misgiving
Is it possible that this monster is actually smaller than Queenie? A lot of the space seemed to be in the living room between the chairs and sofa and in the ceiling. I don’t know about you, but I don’t usually keep clothing and pots and pans there.
Also, was beginning to feel quite sad about leaving Queenie and I felt that she was sad as well watching us move away into this fancy thing. This probably comes from too many TV shows as a child (“My Mother the Car”) and too many Disney-type movies (“Cars”). And perhaps also, from my propensity to name inanimate objects. I probably should not do that. I have enough difficulty with animate things.
Last moments with sweet Queenie
White knuckles
Finally, late in the day, all is done and this ox is our ox and we are off – terrified. There is a learning curve here moving up to something larger, heavier and also diesel is a bit different. But the ride is so smooth, so quiet, 65 MPH so easy – nothing like the gas engine. And there are toys. An air horn! Ever wanted to strike back (benignly of course) at annoying people in the highway? K W O N K K K!! So fun! We sped along almost relaxing in the desert twilight.
We’re out of here
Blythe, CA
As long as I can remember, I have known about Blythe, a small bleached bone of a town baking perpetually in the California desert. It frequently holds the high temp record for the whole country. Not that I have ever been there, but it was in my mind as a horror of a place, so that whatever awful place I lived in (Dayton, Ohio) I could always comfort myself with the knowledge that at least it was not Blythe. I had an unreasonable fear that if I ever drove through there, the car would break and I would somehow have to live there. ( Later on Blythe was replaced in that regard by the entire State of West Virginia.)
So, we were headed to the Blythe KOA, which was exactly half way to LA and the only choice (check the map). There are no directions on the website and there was a conflict between the GPS and MapQuest.
The worst happens
We missed the small totally unmarked road to KOA. We missed it by three blocks and are now stopped in that position on the road. We cannot back up with the jeep in tow. We cannot turn around as we are too big. The road ahead is unpromising – dark and narrow – and the GPS is sketchy about what is up there. Just as I always feared, I am going to have to live in Blythe, CA for the rest of my life.
Well, didn’t happen obviously since I am writing this from the beach and there are none of those in Blythe. We got out and dropped the jeep and I drove off in search of the KOA. It was miles away and nowhere near where GPS or MapQuest said it was. The night clerk (which I will always think of as the Knight clerk) followed me to Bob and stopped traffic so Bob could turn around at a cross road. Blythe KOA, put some darn directions on your website, a sign, something!!! But you have a wonderful night person working there, so you are OK by me.
All is well that ends well
We bedded down in our new home, not quite at home and a bit shaken. After a harrowing drive on LA freeways, we arrived at Dockweiler Beach State Park where we are parked Oceanside with our toes nearly in the Pacific.
We are now truly moved in with Bob, the master packer, finding ample space for everything and room to spare. We have spent the last 10 days luxuriating in all our new space. So many places to sit, doors that close and make separate rooms, each of us has our own sink and vanity. Never will I take such things for granted again!
We are nearly at the end of our trip – this part of it. We will leave the Phaeton (no name) in San Jose and go home for a bit. Then we shall head north for further adventures.
