As Co-author, I assist Judy Howard. I do research because I am of a curious nature. My four waking hours I act as editor, supervising the mouse’s motions.
You may meet me at one of the libraries, RV rallies or Veteran centers when Judy presents her writing seminars.
When we are not traveling in our motorhome, I oversee Judy’s Pet Grooming Salon, in Sun City, California where we reside.
I hope to meet you as we journey through life.
Saturday, October 5, 2013
The Good, The Bad Roads, and The Right and The Wrong Turns
I watched Judy for the past weeks, carrying clothes and stuff
to the motorhome. When I spotted my bag of food in her arms, I knew the trip
was on. I purred contented we were finally on the road. When we rendezvoused at
Home Depot right on time, Judy said. I panicked when I saw mom’s friend Julie pull
up in her fifth wheel and her two dogs, Kona and Rocky. I've done trips with mom’s
friends before and they all have dogs who want to be my best friend.
Really? Dogs are not cool.
I heard Judy tell her friend she needed a walkie talkie because
her cheap, less than a year old, twenty dollar set wasn’t walking or talking. “No
problem,” Julie said. Brand new at RVing,
Julie pulled out her brand new eighty dollar set with whistles and bells and we
set out on the road, headed out for adventures and good times.
Judy led the way to Buckskin State Park on the outskirts of
Parker and located on Arizona side of the river. A few years back she and I
enjoyed a Thanksgiving weekend there, watched a boat parade on Thanksgiving Day
and I rock climbed at the campsite. A gracious family invited Judy for
enchiladas on night. I declined the invitation. Pleasant memories.
Half way to Lake Havasu Judy realized she made a wrong turn
that led us on the California side of the river. She and Julie settled for a
nice campground with wild burros grazing throughout the campground. Climbing
back into the cab Judy said, “The office help seemed nice.” She said she explained her intention to drive
the Arizona side and they reassured her. “Don’t Worry. You are only thirty
miles from Havasu.”
Everything was so nice Judy booked two nights and selected the
reasonable priced spaces, away from the water. She marveled at the picturesque red
rocks of Copper Canyon that formed a postcard backdrop as we watched the wild
burros graze peacefully. Now I wasn’t keen on the huge creatures but they
seemed docile enough. I guess I was as thrilled as Judy and Julie with the campground
Judy and Julie didn’t expect it to be as hot this late in
the year, me I was fine stretched out on the kitchen counter. I could see the
river from my vantage. It supported a variety of bugs. Numerous bugs swarmed in
the air. I looked forward to catching a few when the sun set and it became
cooler. Judy claimed the “burro pies” left by these constantly eating creatures
were a delicacy for the insects, which constantly competed with the flies for
the space in front of her face. She pawed at her face at the same pace the
burros' tails switched back and forth.
When the burros belted out their screeching, grating hee haws
to one another, my heart flip flopped and my hair stood on end. I listened to
Kona’s deep, excited barks. What did she think she was doing? At that moment I
decided curiosity was not killing this cat. I was exploring no farther than the
scents that drifted through the screen door.
No bars. Judy gets agitated with the condition. No cell or Internet
service toned down the two friends’ happy, joyous mood like a flat tire
alongside the road. The final fly in the burro pie - no cable - forced us all to
retire early into our air conditioned rigs with a good book Nap time is always a
Morning coolness tried to cheer Judy’s red-eyed spirits as
she prepared to pull out of the River Lodge Resort on Parker Dam Road. A brief
stop at the office confirmed what she expected - the request for a refund of
second night would be denied. She shrugged it off and headed north to Havasu,
No traffic led Judy to assume no one traveled the California
side. The rough and twisted road left no shoulder or pull outs for photos of the
red rock canyon scenery. She slowed to five miles of pot-holed-road per hour. I
tried to sleep but the rig rattled and rumbled as it stumbled down the poorly
maintained asphalt. Civilization disappeared. Five vultures perched on a rocky crag
ten feet above our heads. Are there no small animals in this place? We crept
by. The big birds seemed to wait for us to run out of gas.
Around the bend emerging out of a dust cloud a man appeared
in a golf cart. Like an alien in this forsaken country he bounced past me and
Julie flagged him down. Not an alien, the man confirmed Judy’s fears, we were
on a road that went nowhere, but he assured her that around the curve was room to
turn around. “The only way to Lake Havasu is head back to Parker,” he said.
“You can’t image how many people make this mistake.” And off he buzzed vanishing
down a dusty canyon road..
Forty-five minutes later we pulled into the Parker Elks
Lodge - the majestic red rock canyon and family of vultures - the good side of
a bad, ugly road.
Judy left me to write my blog while she and Julie had
hamburgers and chips inside the lodge. Tomorrow we would continue on, leaving
the good, the bad routes, the right and wrong turns behind us.