We started in this tour of western National Parks in early September. It wasn’t hot most days, but it was wonderfully warm. We, Maureen and I, are very susceptible to cold. There were nights in mid-September in South Dakota and Wyoming when we had flannel sheets, a blanket and the bed spread over us. She wore wool socks to bed. We were still cold, but then we could not get the furnace in the RV to work. We were miserable. It’s, to me, absolutely amazing how cold 58º can feel when you roll out of bed in the morning for that first cup of coffee and how warm 58º feels in the Spring.
After that we fixed a few things and traveled into the mountains and deserts. We had a lot of nights when it was very hot and in the day we covered our windows with bubble-wrap coated on both sides in foam (Reflectix) to reflect the sun. Those nights we put away the flannel sheets and brought out the polished cotton and ditched all the blankets and covers. But we were comfortable, in fact happy, being what other people would call ‘hot.’
For four months we have been in sunshine. We noticed we had only been in rain, in the daytime, once in southwestern Colorado, driving into Norwood. It’s rained, a little, two nights since then and that’s it. Most of our time has been in the brilliant southwestern sun. Gorgeous. Our moods have been consistently upbeat and we have gone out to walk, hike, jog in every location.
Now it is mid-January and after 7,000 miles of driving we’ve left the glowing pleasures of San Diego, Joshua Tree, Phoenix, Scottsdale and Tucson for the high mesas of New Mexico. Driving from Santa Fe to Roswell today for a few minutes we had a heavy mist from low, leaden clouds. It cleaned the windshield so we could more clearly see nothing but desert to each horizon: dead flat to rolling, coated in short grass and dark, scrub shrubs.
At night we have to disconnect the water hose, lest it burst. This morning, before I reconnected it, I ran water through it. Out shot two-inch ice slugs that lay intact in a mass in the weak sun on the dead grass outside the RV until we left two hours later.
In Oroville, California we lay under the RV for two days attaching heating pads to the black water and gray water tanks, wiring them through switches into the circuit breakers inside and wrapping any exposed wires or pipes to protect them from cold and abrasion. We hope they work. If they don’t we’ll be leaking bio-hazards on our site and, if unnoticed, down the roads.
We like to RV. It’s fun. We get along well in this tiny space. We’ve seen beautiful places, challenged ourselves with heights, enjoyed glorious sunsets and wondrous starry skies and (thanks to Maureen) had some great meals out in the middle of nowhere. But, it’s going to be eighteen tonight. We’re sitting inside with fleece quarter zips and booties on, the thermostat set at 64º, two ceramic space heaters blowing (to save propane) and hoping, really hoping, nothing breaks that forces us outside. M will wear a wool cap in bed tonight.
We’ll be home in a month, mid-February. March is really the end of Winter in central Indiana. Our plan is to sell the RV and return to more stationary lives, re-involve ourselves in things that we think matter. But, in the warm, in spring and summer, I know I will feel the urge to do this again. In winter, no thank you.
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