ROLLING
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Slipping through San Franciso in the early hours of the day was a relatively
simple task, despite the feeling I was driving a sixteen-wheeler, instead
of a small Class C motorhome with only six wheels. The Golden Gate
Bridge tugged at my heart, as it always did. The memories ... a friend
who had thrown her life from it, the glories of watching fireworks there,
showing it off to friends who visited, the endless trail of ships under
it ... the singularity of it. It represented the doorway to a new life
for me, and I crossed it with both trepidation and delight.
Heading up Highway 101 was not new, it was a path to the wonders of
Northern California which I had often traveled on vacations, so I made
my way to Interstate I-5 as I headed into Oregon. There was a feeling of
pressure, a need to hurry, as if there were to be only the normal two or three
weeks of vacation available for travel. I forced myself to stop
at the fairly frequent rest stops along the way. Walking about, checking
the oil and water levels, napping, making coffee ... stalling; however,
soon the pressure inevitably returned and I would hurry back to the road,
driving hard, my hands clenched on the wheel.
South of Eugene, OR, I left the highway to seek out the 250 acre ranch
of friends. After wandering a few back roads, I found the ranch and made
my way a couple of miles to the house. My friends offered me the choice
of parking the RV by the house, or at a barn a mile away, which had electricity
and water. Of course, I took the barn. This was my first "set-up"
- hooking up the RV to water and electric. The electrical hook-up went
fine, but I couldn't get the water to run through the hose connected to
their water. After much frustration and thunderous curses, I discover there
was a plastic cap on the connector, which I had neglected to take off!
RATS!! I still have that little blue cap pinned to the wall to remind me
to THINK about what I am doing before I go crazy about it.
Exhausted, I climbed (awkwardly) onto the bed over the cab, and fell
into the black hole of sleep. In the morning I awakened to a rocking of
the RV. My first thought was EARTHQUAKE !, but it was too irregular for
that. For the first of many, many times, I found that sliding over the edge
of the bed to search for the ladder with my feet, on a FULL bladder, would
be a daily challenge! As soon as I had taken care of that, I peeked outside.
I was surrounded by cows and calves! Some of the cows were scratching themselves
on the RV, which caused it to rock with their enthusiastic attentions.
That was probably my first of the countless belly laughs which were to
be among my gifts on this long adventure.
In the peace and solitude of the ranch, I searched through my maps and
the Good Sam Campground Directory (see link). My mind told me I was
free to wander whichever way my whimsy led me, but I found that I HAD to
have a goal. A life of planning trips to specific places, on a specific
schedule, was too deeply engrained. So I set a general plan to drive east,
stopping to see friends as I traveled, and ending up at my brother's in
Roanoke, Virginia. That was a little more comfortable for me. Yet, the
pressure to 'get going' remained. In less than two weeks, I left the ranch
and headed north again on I-5.
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