Sweet freedom whispers in our ears

Oh, where to start? I might need to take this computer down to the beach with a cup (not a Dora cup this time, but a Talavera vaso I bought especially for my wine) of good red medicine. That sounds like just the ticket after a shrimp, pasta with faux alfredo (crema agria (sour cream, but it was leftover from Mexican purchases so it gets the spanish name), parmesan, copious amounts of garlic and some olive oil) sauce and broccoli. I’d much rather a Modelo Negro (dark beer) but the red medicine might be just what I need.

Well, that IS much better. The red medicine is lovely (though it is in the Dora cup; didn’t want to risk breaking the talavera what with splinters of branches and wood flying from Jesse breaking up firewood) and the temperature superb, so far either the red medicine is working or the mozzys continue to present a weak attack.

Michael left last night just about this time. Jamie and I had had many talks with him, starting in Tepic and I never blogged about it because Jamie was not comfortable with my doing so. Interestingly, yesterday he apologised and said it was a ridiculous stance. So yesterday, before heading to the Tall Grass place I can never remember the name of, Jamie and I spoke with Michael yet again to find out how he was going with the “get a job and support yourself” project as we’d seen no signs of him doing anything. It turned out that he had no idea what to do, how to begin and had decided that he’d just hang out on land that he figured we’d eventually purchase to settle down on. Needless to say, that idea went over like a lead balloon. Jamie and I told him that time was running out and abandoning him at the side of the road (how we saw the relationship ending if he continued to do nothing) or getting him a job were not solutions we were happy with. I can’t imagine the stress and worry the kids would feel leaving him roadside. We headed to the preserve and had a lovely time even when Ellen refused to walk and we never got to take a nature walk to see the “real” prarie.
When we returned, Michael had a plan. His plan, to support himself, was that we would give him the Westy, $300 in cash and the keys to our storage unit. He is very lucky I had no implements of destruction when he presented this “plan”. Fortunately for Michael, Jamie was so desperate to have Michael leave that he agreed. I talked him down to $100 and no storage keys and all the kids decided that they would rather have Michael drive away rather than us leave him here at the lake. Michael then decided then and there that he’d leave immediately. It was somewhat shocking and sudden for the kids (we had all anticpated a month of guiding him into a job and supporting himself) but they rallied. In what was typical style for Michael, he neither thanked us for the money and vehicle nor said goodbye.

We were all very very sad and upset and frustrated and worried after he left, and honestly, even this morning (for Jamie and I) but slowly we’re coming out of it. We are all happier. Jamie and I are both amazed (doh!) at how much happier the kids are. Jamie and I feel a sense of hope and freedom we haven’t felt in forever.

Today we headed to Council Grove and immersed ourselves in Pioneer history. We talked about the First Nations peoples, the rape of their land, the hardships of the pioneers, the struggles in new territory and learned an enormous amount. And had cinnamon rolls and cookies and found a great grocery store and incredibly beautiful farmhouses and craftsman sytle homes and, like we normally do, fell in love all over again. We LOVE Cottonwood Falls. We LOVE Council Grove. We are bigoted enough to assume that everyone is very conservative but we love it just the same. We rarely have trouble finding a place to settle down. Our problem is that we find EVERYWHERE to settle down.

And that’s the news from Lake Chase County Fishing Hole, where the geese are honking, the kids are screaming to outdo them and all the men are goodlooking.

the signs of Kansas

It seems so wrong to break the stillness and quiet of this little fishing lake with a generator, even a quiet generator, but I need to work and there is something of a thrill watching the sun rise over a tiny lake, whisps of fog protecting the banks, fish popping to the surface and their tiny rings of disturbance spreading about the lake surface and the sky turns blue then light blue then edges with yellow and then there is no doubt but that the sun will rise again. The thrill? Oh yeah. That we are in a place without drinking water, without electricity, off on a dirt road in the middle of nowhere, no phones (but there are fish) and I’m online. Isn’t that so weird?

If you’re ambivalent about having an abortion, driving highway 50 through Kansas will cure your ambivalence. Sign after sign after sign with fat cheeked white babies advertising anti-abortion dot the roadside. I was amazed at how far they have stretched. They are not in Nevada on highway 50. Nor along the portions of highway 50 we travelled in Utah or Colorado.

There are billboards along highway 50 in Kansas, before each and every town, a small sign will advertise a church. Pretty much that is it. Incase you’re ambivalent about abortion or need a church, signs along highway 50 in Kansas will help you out there. Today should be a cold day in Kansas; the weather people here know their stuff. The clouds forecast for yesterday appeared without complaint and the temperature that should drop today, if it follows the cold night and freezing ground this morning should follow its forecast also.

I really enjoy driving the backroads but the trucks in Kansas on highway 50 are driving me insane. Why are the taking the little 2 lanes? Why not drive the interstates if they don’t want to be held up by a trailer going 50-55? All day yesterday, we had convoy after convoy irritated by our poking along. I stay off the interstates because we like the less travelled roads and I don’t want to drive faster than 55. But here in Kansas, all the trucks seem to like the highways I’ve chosen (50 or 56 or 400 they like them all) and I can’t figure out why they don’t just stay on I-70 if they want to zip down the road. We love stopping at the Santa Fe trail roadside markings and reading what they have there, we like toodling along at 50-55 and I don’t like 2597 semis lined up behind me riding my ass.

Real estate agents from California would slowly loose their minds travelling the small roads of Kansas; enormous, gigantic farmhouses litter the roads and it boggles my mind how much even a delapidated ruin would go for in the Bay Area. I can’t imagine these are very old farmhouses even if they look ancient; how did the settlers HEAT those monstrosities? And why are Kansas farmhouses so tall? Why don’t they spread out? I’d love to take the time to simply photograph them all, but I am reduced to trying to capture something from a moving vehicle. They are graceful, ornate, gigantic, confusing and dominate the landscape.

Cottonwood Falls, Kansas

We ended up spending 3 nights in Lakin, Kansas. If ever there was a family that could meander about Kansas, we must be it. Jamie was certain that the fishing lake we stayed at just south of Lakin (which Don Wright’s book reported to be a “beautiful place”) would be the glory spot for the rest of the country. Once we got out of the Colorado mountains Jamie figured the camping would be quite awful and figured we were in the glory spot for the rest of the midwest. The fees were lovely; $5 for water and electric and the kharma must have been flowing liberally (but NOT Liberal, Kansas) because when Jamie got the generator out of the back of the van to drive himself into deep frustration ‘fixing” it THE DAMN THING STARTED!!! He then ran a bottle of carburator cleaner through it and it has started each and every time since. We are thinking it was an issue with altitude (as we never tried to use it under 6000ft) but last year we had no problem using it at altitude.

The kids had a lovely time at the very lovely Lakin library and Jesse has added yet another temporary card to his collection. He took out about 3000 books and Pikey took out 2 Snickett books on tape and both managed to almost finish their selections by the next day.

We left rather late yesterday and managed to get about 75 miles down the road from Lakin to Dodge City before giving up for the night. We had a trailer tire blow itself to smitherenes but the trailer is so steady the only way I could tell was the smell of burning rubber and the sight of smoke behind me. We really had no place to pull over, other than the shoulder but when your vehicle is as large as ours, the shoulder doesn’t give you much. I would have loved to pull off into the grass but the slope was quite severe for the trailer. I had been looking for the Holcomb grain elevator to signal us the best preserved wagon wheel ruts from the Santa Fe Trail, but the exploding tire completely distracted me. I think we must have pulled over and changed the tire just before the elevator and by the time I was thinking again, we’d long past it. We’ve been following highway 50 (The Lonliest Highway) since we crossed the pass in Colorado which, in eastern Colorado and all of Kansas, follows the Santa Fe Trail.

Last night we stayed at (yet another) fishing lake outside Dodge City (where we stopped to replace the shredded tire) and the kids covered themselves with mozzy bites. I was astonished not only at the incredible coulds of mozzys but at the kids’ staying power out in the clouds. We left at the crack of dawn this morning; about 11:30 and the next traveling day, I think I’m going to insist on an earlier start. We stopped in Kinsley, the midpoint of the railway (1561 miles to New York and 1561 miles to San Francisco) and found an absolutely fascinating museum. There was a locomotive, a church which had been moved from a couple towns and a sod house. I expected the kids to play on the locomotive the whole time but they were just as interested in the museum as I was. We’ve been listening to “Little House on the Prarie” for many miles and were able to see much of what we’ve had described to us in the book. It was an amazing collection of Kansas memorabilia.

We kept to highway 50 today and NOTHING BROKE DOWN! At Kinsely, highway 56 follows the Santa Fe trail but we stuck to highway 50 so we could visit the Tallgrass Prarie National Preserve, but by the time we’d gone grocery shopping in Newton (it must be the largest town we’ve hit since Santa Fe, it was almost evening. We had been bypassing town after small town on highway 50 and just outside Newton, Jamie called over the radio that we’d stop in Newton. It looked to be a very large town (by comparison to all the towns we’ve hit since Santa Fe) and I stopped at the very first store. It advertised its recent opening and we were all astonished to find The Most Incredible prices anywhere. It seemed to be a dented can store run by Mennonites and everything was incredibly cheap. We stocked up on canned tomatoes (15 cans?), 10lb of apples, 6lb of potatoes, sunscreen; you name it. Even Jamie stocked up on 3 boxes of PopTarts.

We found yet another fishing lake here between Cottonwood Falls and Elmsomethingorother. It is an absolutely lovely site and we’ll probably stay here a couple days. We’re camped on a beautiful beach that the kids enjoyed until dark.

Flat as panqueque

We’re in Kansas. Just about 30 or so miles into Kansas, but it is very flat, has no snow, no ice and is easy on the driver. I may be complaining about being bored out of my skull with the flatness in the future, but I doubt it. All day today I was reliving the evening on the mountain and I keep getting flashes of what DIDN’T happen, but almost happened and what COULD have happened but didn’t happen. I should be able to be thankful for the positive, but I keep reliving the negative. Jamie has prescribed “stress relief” that crafty devil and we’ll see if that helps. If not, I’ll just keep getting drunk.
We’re at a “lake” by Kansas standards and when we find it I’ll let you know. Suffice to say it is flat, but there are bathrooms and electricity (!!) for five dollars a night. Yet another reason to love non-snowy, flat, non-icy, flat as a board Kansas.

We will stay here two nights, waiting out the weather which is projecting tornados on our expected route.  If someone is holding onto the locusts, please just release them.  I’d like to just get it all over with already.  :0

No more snow, pretty much EVER for me, thank you!

I sure hope that what we found today was that which the Westy was warning us about. The tourist office in Chama told us that the passes were very dangerous; people were turning around, there was ice and snowpack (but strangely enough, the pass was open with no warnings). They said that La Veda was open, dry and snowfree. We could get there by going back some 70 miles, just before Espanola and take 285 around the mountains. That would eliminate La Manga and Cumbres passes but add about 140 miles to our day. The forecast was for sun tomorrow, but the forecasts had been terribly wrong so far, and the heavy snowfall on top of Cumbres today was forecast as “sun” yesterday. We checked again in Antonito, after taking 285 all the way back to Colorado and after they checked 5 different numbers, agreed with Chama tourist information that La Veda was dry, clear and snow-free. We knew we were chasing time; it was 4pm when we left Antonito and the other side of La Veda (under 10K ft) was about 100 miles away. We didn’t want to cross La Veda in the dark or at night just in the event that snowfall could be possible. Just outside the pass, at Ft. Gardner, we tuned into the tourist information radio station which was very quiet. The pass was light and we could see the peaks of surrounding mountains. We never imagined it could be as awful as it turned out.

We headed up the pass with dry roads but watching the windshields of approaching cars, I noticed some had snow. I hoped that they had come from roads off the pass as the majority of cars were dry and didn’t even have dirt around the tire wells. Just before the summit, the road turned slushy. At the summit the road was pure ice. Everyone had dropped their speed to 5mph or less. Enormous trucks were inching down the pass. A fifth wheel pulling an additional trailer pulled off at the pass (into deep snow) and joined two other 5th wheels waiting there. I figured they’d all head down together but we never saw them again. I assume they are still up there, surrounded by white. After beginning down the pass, I saw a sign indicating the grade would last 4 miles and was hopeful but the icy road too soon turned to thick pure ice and I had no control over the vehicle. I had the Ford in 1st gear and was going less than 5mph but I almost lost all control when I saw the trailer inching into a jacknife. I had already hyperventilated by then and tried deep breathing and telling myself to “relax, calm down, breath deep” to keep from falling apart. We actually jacknifed but it was so slow that I was able to get straight again. I headed the the middle of the road where the slush was thicker and the ice seemed to be less. A sherrif’s car drove by and berated me, telling me I should pull off the road (WHERE?? and I had little to no control of the van+trailer) before zipping off to presumably berate someone else. I literally inched down the mountain. I’d let off the brakes; the wheel cranked to the right and move a tiny bit, then hit the brakes to eventually skid to a stop, inch again to the right or out of whatever skid I was in at the time, and slowly, quite literally inches at a time, made out way down. Jamie jumped out of the Westy and stood at the driver’s window with me, encouraging me on and getting splashed by oncoming snow spray. I took the middle of the road and eyed the oncoming lane, so wishing I could use it; it was dry and plowed and had neither ice nor snow nor slush. Finally, I got to the point where the oncoming uphill traffic had 2 snow, slush and ice free lanes (and our sole downhill lane was thick ice) and I took over one oncoming lane. It was terribly dangerous, but the oncoming traffic was slow. We hit a wall of fog and a Sherrif’s car drove by to berate me once again. I was in the oncoming lane but the downhill lane was thick ice. He told me I was holding up traffic (there was none behind me, but perhaps they had stopped it somewhere, waiting for me to crash) and to get off the road (again, WHERE?? no pullouts…). Finally, after what seemed like hours (we headed up the pass at 5:15 and got down at 8:30), I got to slush. Then the snow began to disappear. Then the hail turned to rain. I had control of the van and trailer but I was still to scared to trust it to more than 25mph. It was a leap of faith to go to 10mph, then 15, then 20, then 25. I kept testing my brakes and when I stopped skidding I increased my speed. Then I lost my trailer brakes. Luckilly, I was only on wet highway and the trailer brakes held all through the ice and snow.

I used the gearing as brakes and really didn’t even use the van brakes and here we are in Walsenburg, Co; it can snow and rain all we care; we’re off the damn mountain. Tomorrow we need to figure out why the trailer brakes kept going off and on; perhaps it is a rain or snow or ice issue, but for now, we’re eating, relaxing and enjoying the fact that we did not end up pulled down the moutain by the trailer; jacknifed and completely out of control. And send some warm thoughts for the poor bastards spending the night in their trailers at the top of the pass. There is bad weather coming from Chama and they might be there a while (another reason I wanted to get down).

Now I am going to get quite drunk and fall asleep. And it will be a VERY long time before I have any desire to see snow, slush or ice.

SNOW!!! Otra vez!

So, i get an email from my good friend John in Pueblo CO (we are so close to CO that we drove there today) who tells me it was 80F there today. They are at 6000 feet. Chama is in the 7000’s. The signal strength on my satellite connection had been slowly dropping all evening (as I answered the 45 emails sitting in my inbox, and no, I didn’t have merely 45 but 45 that needed a response) and finally in dropped below 30 and I lost my connection. I wondered if Germantown (the NOC; don’t worry, if you don’t “do” satellite internet, just go “la la la” when you read this gibberish) was having weather trouble as I had noticed the sound of rain had stopped. I waited and played a few games of Spider Solitaire and finally, when the numbers kept to the single digits, figured the tipod had settled in the rain and was no longer plumb. I found my jeans (.50 at the recent yard sale in El Dorado and they fit like a DREAM) and pulled them on, couldn’t find my shoes so I stole Jamie’s (I better hurry as the signal strength is dropping again) and headed outside, my trusty laptop relaying the modem’s signal. As I stepped down, I crunched. Got a flashlight and saw frost? snow? Walked further, crunching, and found the dish was completely covered with SNOW! It is snowing here in Chama and we are tucked in tight! I wiped the snow from the dish and immediately the signal strength climbed 55 points! It has dropped 2 points since I started typing so I’d better hurry.

The boys are so jazzed about the snow and hope it will stay for the morning. I just want to try to get a picture, so I’ll post and then see what I can get. Can you believe? Snow in mid September?

Snow!!

We will most likely be saying goodbye to Micheal in a month. He is unwilling and/or unable to put forth the effort to participate in our family. He would rather be homeless than put someone other than himself first. To say this is an enormous surprise and disappointment to Jamie and myself is an understatement. Jamie has not been able to sleep or eat for weeks; the situation with Michael has been eating away at him. Today we told him that we would be unable to wait a full month of him proving himself; in his own words he says he will “try”, “doesn’t want to”, “can’t do that”, “doesn’t like that”, “doesn’t think he can”. We are hoping that if our expectations are zero, it will be much less frustrating when he decides not to help out. It is a terribly sad situation; that someone would prefer homelessness to making an effort and deciding to put the needs of others ahead of their own. It is incomprehensible to Jamie and myself that someone would not be chomping at the bit to help “pay” back (not monetarily) the effort we have made to bring him back from the brink of homelessness. We would both be working our asses off to work off our “debt” (emotional and, quite frankly, financial; we have to keep saying “no” to stuff the kids want to do because we spent around $6000 on Michael alone) and can’t imagine the concept of just saying, “no; I’d rather YOU do the work; I deserve a break”. We have never seen this attitude in him in all the years we’ve known him, but he has always been a very solitary animal and perhaps this was what was hidden. We now can imagine why none of his friends in Tahoe would help him.

Today we headed up to our old stomping grounds from last year; the top of the Cumbres Pass to see our old spot. We then headed down to Elk Creek Campground where we spent Labor Day last year and the kids played in the stream until the remnants of Hurricane Lane rolled in. By the time we got to the top of La Manga Pass it was almost impossible to see, snow was accumulating on the sides of the road and piling up on the windshield of the car. At first we were incredibly excited until the realization dawned that should the snowfall increase, we’d have a hard time getting over the second pass, Cumbres. Luckilly, it is slightly shorter than La Manga Pass and we had no trouble. It is raining here in the campground and I’m glad we have hookups and are not boondocking with a defective generator at the top of Cumbres Pass, snow in the making for tonight. We will probably stay here another night and then head to Colorado Springs, where we hope to get the generator fixed and Jamie to get some most excellent (sans snow) riding in.