2013 - Oregon to California

I'm waiting to receive the photo book I put together (via Shutterfly) covering the first cross-country trip BC and took in 2013.  When we're traveling I'm usually thinking about where we're stopping for the night, and by the time we do I'm not up to blogging.  Some of these stories may be familiar, but I'll be adding details I was too pooped to pop out at the time.

Our vehicle: a 1986 Ford F150, which I anticipated sleeping in the back because I was pretty much broke. I was heading to New Jersey to help organize and downsize Mom's home.  She was living with my sister following Hurricane Sandy, and was in the early stage of Dementia, which we were just beginning to comprehend.

2013 route

I've already prepared a book of our 2016 trip and liked it so I did this one; because I want snippets of things to jar my memory when I'm old and sitting around most of the time.  Wait, isn't that now?

The previous year, my next door neighbor in the RV park gave me the truck for nothing.  Fairly recent residents, Bob heard from his wife that I was looking for better transportation to tow my 16-foot travel trailer.  One morning Bob knocked on my door with his generous gift.  He was the original owner and kept it in immaculate condition; that’s when I learned about Full Synthetic oil.  Bob was a retired machinist who no longer needed a work truck, since he and his wife planned to die in the park and they already had an SUV, his words, not mine.

Wait a minute...if I'm going to tell the story right, I've got to add this part: the day before the gift, some redneck moved in a couple spaces away.  He, too, heard I was on the lookout for a truck and told me about a friend who had one for sale up in the mountains, reasonable price.  He'd take me up there the next day. After I said, "Great," he added something about watching a movie and soaking in a hot tub.  I hemmed and hawed so he quickly said, "Or not.  I can cook us dinner down here when we come back."  He had an enormous smoker on his deck.

So the next morning I'm thinkin', "I don't know this guy from Adam and have no idea where he's taking me.  Nobody knows him.  If anything happened no one would know where I've gone or with whom..."  I was shaken enough to write my "If Found Dead" note for the police.  No sooner had I finished the note that there was a knock at the door.  "That's it...my doom has arrived," but it was Bob offering the truck.  That's the SECOND time in my life I had proof there IS a God, (here's the first.)

Months later I turned that note into a card which fit inside a luggage tag. While walking in strange neighborhoods with BC I never carried a purse or phone, so rather than wind up a Jane Doe in Potter's Field I came up with this solution. Purses can be swiped; so the card went inside pants pockets or pinned to the inside of my coat.

Back to the trip:  My income was about $700 from SSI plus $175 in SNAP, which fortunately is accepted throughout the country regardless of originating state.  Bob had attached a nice canopy on the truck bed, with windows on both sides which offered a nice cross-breeze. A platform was added across the front half of the back for him to sleep if he was away on a lengthy job.  Bob also attached a piece of pegboard to the ceiling inside to hold tools, but he drilled completely through the roof. I was ALWAYS having to check and caulk 8 bolts, so I stapled a piece of plastic table cloth (from Joann Fabrics) to the pegboard to catch any drips (see photo above). It immediately brightened the place up, too.    

Two small sliding windows between the canopy and truck cab were handy for a number of reasons; primarily as BC's perch, for the view was better  The space between was an added draft, for the truck had no air conditioning (or radio).  Bob joked, "360 degree air."  I attached a small 12-volt fan above her passenger seat. With a few carpet scraps and space for storage, we'd be quite comfy 'roughing-it'.

I prepared for a month.  The side windows on the canopy opened up and outward, so I put up screen material and attached 12" wire grids to the windows to prevent BC from jumping out, plus a bit more security while sleeping. A spring rod for a curtain was stretched cross-wise for privacy, and a decorative wooden ladder was cut down for a partial barrier to keep BC and stuff from toppling backwards off the platform.

But by the time I left, the truck looked like like an explosion went off inside. I always overpack and this was no different.  I didn't know how long I'd be gone nor what I'd need, so I took the dumbest things, leaving myself little room to move, let alone sleep.

Regardless,  I was excited to be on the road again.  I'd spent the winter house-and-pet-sitting in Albany, OR, the grass capital of America.  Not grass as in pot, but green sod, because it never stops raining there, you've heard about Oregon rain.  Talk about depressing.

My friends would store my RV while I was gone.  I'd already towed it around Oregon and learned I had difficulty not only towing it safely because of my vision; but it's awfully hard to hook up and unhook alone.  No way was I dragging it 3,000 miles.

"Do you want to know how much it's going to cost in gasoline?"  Dave kindly offered to figure it out.

"No, thanks.  If you tell me, you might have to declare me on next year's taxes."  Truly, I hardly had a cent to spare and didn't want to feel defeated before I even got started.

I hate technology and so refused Dave's offer of a GPS.  Lea whispered, "He means well," so don't say NO.  It's impolite to refuse something, I've heard so many times.  (You can see it mounted to the dash in the top photo.)   Lea did, however, understand me better; so pressed a Walmart atlas into my hands, which not only shows roads but locations and services of Walmarts throughout the country.  I kept it handy behind BC's backwards bed lounger.

We headed south to visit my Aunt and Uncle in San Jose.  Uncle Julian is Mom's younger brother and he's always been my favorite.  But wouldn't you know, on my last day in Eagle Point I accidentally tossed my cell phone into the washing machine.  Free government phones weren't available like now, so my sister put me on her plan and had a phone sent to California, it would take a week.

"You can't leave without a phone!!"

"Why not?  We didn't always carry phones with us and we survived."  My friends no doubt had their doubts, but wished us well.

We left familiarity for the unknown.  I didn't know nor care how long the trip would take and didn't plot my course.  No matter; what's the rush?  I planned on taking the southern route, hoping to visit relatives and friends along the way.

We left in early April.

It's a long, meandering up-and-down drive crossing the mountains into California. The first time I saw Mt. Shasta I was dumbstruck, you would be, too.  Elevation:  14,179 feet; second highest in the Cascades (Mt. Rainer at 14,411').

We stopped at Lake Siskiyou, near the town of Mt Shasta, for a BC break and photos.

 

Then at a turnoff to view the expanse and see the Brown Aqueduct, a system of canals, tunnels and pipelines, which conveys water from the Sierra Nevadas to Southern California.

I absolutely hated the GPS, how god-damned distracting!  I tossed it in the back, that's what those handy windows were for.

I gripped the wheel as drivers flew by like I was standing still, it was hard to point-and-shoot.  We passed all kinds of groves, I think they were olive.  The afternoon was growing late so I pulled into a rest area for the night, near Redding, I think.  It was the most uncomfortable evening I spent, crammed in the back between all that shit.

I travelled about 160 miles that first day, but pleased we'd made it so far without incident.  Next stop, San Jose!

Click here for Ch. 2