Had we known we could have made good use of the drive from Cortez, Colorado to Page, Arizona. We could have churned cream into butter, agitated clothes in a basin or proven those cereal boxes claim that “some settling may occur.” It was a fairly straight and level road, but by no means flat. Arizona tax dollars not at work. Washboard road for over an hour. After a while you start shaking your head in dismay and muttering, “damn.” It reminded me of what a challenge it must be to build these homes on wheels in a way that corners and connections don’t vibrate apart. Someone experienced with RVs asked reviewers to be more tolerant of the problems of older units since they suffer extended earthquakes every time they’re moved.

We started this adventure with a back-of-an-envelope budget. Guessing an average of about $20 a night for camping space. We have, even accounting for the generosity of friends and family, blown the heck out of that budget. Two things have contributed to that. We’ve been hitting the crown jewels of America’s National Parks and we’ve not made reservations months in advance. 

The Glen Canyon dam holding back Lake Powell. Some started lusting after this monster as early as 1947. January 3rd, 1963 John Kennedy flipped a switch to begin filling the reservoir and forever burying under water and silt a gorgeous length of the, then wild, Colorado river. The campsite for its construction workers became a company town and finally, Page, Arizona.

Maureen and I are planners by nature. We make lists, calendars and plans, lots of plans. We’ve, at time been guilty of mentally making lists of the lists we wanted to make. On this extended trip, our adventure, we have instead decided to take a leap – in fact, many leaps. We’re not planning more than a week ahead and altering those pencilled proposals as the weather shifts. Our prime directive is to not spend the night where it will drop to 25º or below. We’re trying to avoid going below freezing, but this late in the season that would shut out too many major parks.

One way to reduce our expenses is to stop between points at WalMarts. Some are “ask for permission” and some are “no overnight camping.” There are some where there are city ordinances against overnight “camping” or “parking” overnight in parking lots, but it’s not enforced. Every time we’ve stayed in one we’ve gone into the store and bought more than we planned. It’s called “dry camping.”  With our rig we can operate on our tanks and generator for up to five days. WalMarts have no hook-ups or services, but they are relatively flat, paved, well-lit and often populated with other RVs. Almost twenty this night in Page!

We pulled in, leveled and went outside for fresh air. It was after sunset, and just before the full moon rose. We noticed a tiny slash of a few bright white pixels stationary in the massive, deep blue screen that was the sky above the small city of Page, Arizona. As we stared at it we thought we could see a slight wobbling at the bottom. I brought out me pirate’s telescope and saw a tall, thin balloon shape connected by a wasp’s waist to a swaying, slender, round cornered rectangle with scalloped sides; the whole apparatus glowing pearlescent white against the dark blue sky. A weather balloon?

Still, despite our resistance to extended planning, we agree we spend too long deciding where to go next and what route to take to get there. I have the sense there are routes on the map M knows she will not take (often sinuous and accompanied by dotted lines) and places she wants or doesn’t want to see. That’s fine with me. I’m just out to see what’s before me. We can see documentaries, high res still photos, etc. of any attraction, I don’t have to see them all in person. Going in person commands more attention, gives a sense of scale, adds scents and sounds and encourages more involvement.  Still. We have to get to a point where if either of us do or don’t want to go there . . . we quickly speak up.