Girl, Just Wash Your Hair

Giving a title to my writings is usually something I do after I've stayed up way too late and just want to click on the "publish" button before I accidently losing everything, which has happened to me more than once. Reflecting back on our trip south last week, it seems I could title this "A visit to see the birthday girl", or A trip to escape never-ending cold", or "My hunt for a chili ristra".

I'm slowly but surely getting this traveling in an RV thing down. Have cat. Will travel. This time we'd be going to celebrate beautiful Fran's 87'th birthday. May is almost always a beautiful time of year in Arizona. Trying to keep our living space seperate from our business space, we've been working mostly out in the yet unfinished addition with a space heater at our feet and a blanket over my knees. Mom's birthday celebration was great timing for getting a much needed visit and some sun. Dave packed up our printer, scanner and lap-tops. I cleaned out the cabin fridge and loaded the RV fridge and cooler. On our last trip, we replaced the shower head with a new one; I packed travel sized shampoo and conditioner, honestly a little excited to see how I could morph my best princess-life/delicate-flower/taming-the-beast extravagant hair-washing day of the week into a race with the 7-gallon hot water tank and just enough space to reach my arms above my head to scrub my hair.

We worked a full day Thursday and got a late start, staying overnight in St. George; and although I'd stocked the fridge with plenty of eggs, yogurt, fruit and lots of sourdough bread and English muffins we made our first stop to the bakery formerly known as Farmstead now renamed Bonrue Bakery. I always like to get something that is so flaky and buttery I just know it must've taken hours, even days to make.

Behold the Kouign-amann (sounds like Queen Uh-mahn)

We don't discuss calories here. We just appreciate the artistry and the divinity.

We arrived to the Valley of the Sun aka Sun City, Phoenix and had a few lovely days spent with family and celebrating Fran. In this world I've known few people that seem too good and pure to be real. Fran is such a one. She is without guile and there is something so healing about getting a hug from her. I love her so much and am grateful I get to call her Mom. I hope when I grow up I can be as wonderful as she.

An Elect Lady

Ed has worked in his wood-shop for hours making us a beautiful wooden sign/marker for our cabin. He presented it to us along with a new cutting board. I'm anxious to display them both. He and Dave can anchor the sign when he and Fran come up this summer to escape the AZ heat. We said our "See you soon's" and gave our hugs and loaded up to go.

Dave and I are the King and Queen of baby-stepping road-trips. "If we're going to Phoenix....we may as well drive down to Bisbee before heading back home..." Norma and John would join us for our two-night stay bringing their 5th-wheel trailer. We stopped at a fruit stand in St. David to purchase a bag of fresh pecans; no honey had been harvested yet and that made me so sad. There is nothing in this world like mesquite honey and worth a fourteen-hour drive to get some. We'll be back.

I'm not sure we've ever been to Bisbee in May, because if we had I would've for certain remembered the heavy scent of blooming jasmine in the air. After getting situated in the campground we set out for a long stroll through one of my very favorite tiny towns. My birthplace.

Most of the shops and restaurants were closed and as we slowly strolled just the occasional or pedestrian or cyclist rolled by giving a friendly nod.

The campground was nearly empty, the sky was dark and starry, the town quiet. We slept like babies with a nocturnal cat that kept her night-watch over us looking out the window throughout the night.

Before we left, I snapped a picture of the campground picnic table I want to build at our place one of the days when we don't have anything better to do than build a picnic table.

Now we begin the ascent Northward with a stopover to Chiricahua National Monument, my first home. We'd be camping here overnight. Norma and John followed us here and drove to the top to check out the view then headed back to Bisbee. We settled into our campsite and took an evening hike. Forever a night-owl, hiking in the late evening speaks to my soul. The temperatures drop and the wildlife resurfaces for their own sort of animal party, doing the things animals do.

On our little hike we came upon two random huge fireplaces I need to research their origins and also a little tiny cave with prison bars. Very random. Very mysterious. I was glad Dave and I were hiking together. Although I must say, I tend to lag quite a ways behind because I linger to hear birds or go slightly off trail and of course take photos. Dave likes us to stay within eye-sight/ear-shot of each other. He's the responsible to my sometimes reckless.

Driving out the next morning we pulled over to "Faraway Ranch". Built in 1886 by newlyweds Neil Erickson and Emma Sophia Peterson, both young Swedish immigrants. If I were forced to live here I wouldn't be mad about it.

I've been on the hunt for a bathtub but Dave didn't think it'd be a good idea to take this one. Darn.

With a breakfast of yogurt and granola for the road, we next went to White Sands and I got my little token "white sandy selfie".

I've done this since the first time we visited the park in 2020

Today

2020

It's not actually sand but gypsum and though it was a hot day, the gypsum is cool on your feet and feels slightly wet. You can rent sleds and there were a few people on some of the dunes doing that, but being the middle of the day, the glare of the sun on the sea of all white made it almost unbearable. We parked at a picnic table and I made some sandwiches while Dave got the Starlink hooked up so we could catch up on work for an hour or so before hitting the sandy/gypsum'y trail.

We arrived to Bandelier National Monument campground quite late. Not wanting to make more noise other than just parking we didn't take the time to level the RV; and also too late at night to even attempt washing my hair We both slept with our heads at the end of the bed.

A visit to Santa Fe filled most of our time the next day. Being Memorial Day weekend the Plaza was jam-packed. Though I'm not a very people'ey person, occasionally it's fun to be immersed the buzz of a busy, beautiful city square.

When we finally got back to our campsite, I thought about washing my hair, but knew we'd be hiking the next day, so I just made my nightly braids crawled into bed. I raised the shade to Freya could look out the window. My heart always feels the tug to the house I was raised in just about a mile from the campground. I stared out the window with the kitty and looked at the stars, thinking it really seems just yesterday I was a little girl looking at the night sky in this same place (different kitty). It was a tender time in my life. The 70's in general seemed to be a bit more gentle; at least from my child's perspective.

We had lunch at the Visitor's Center Cafe. Dave got a bison burger and I, of course, had a chili relleno. We ate slowly while taking in the beauty of the little plaza and we got landscape/hardscape ideas for our mountain home.

We got back to camp early enough that I actually finally washed my hair. Being sure to turn the water completely off between wash and rinse since I didn't think it'd be too pleasant to have to rinse in pure cold. There's just something about feeling like a squeaky clean princess while surrounded by dirt. While my hair air-dried, we talked about plans for our final day. Should we head straight home or take one more day to take the hike the Interpretive Park Ranger (this was a new job description to me) recommended to those of us that attended her presentation earlier that evening. I don't think that was such a thing when my father was a ranger. Being what it was, we were very grateful we listened because we did decide to stay another night. After going to the Farmer's Market in Santa Fe, and doing a little drive-by of the Santa Fe Opera House, we made it back in time to do a final evening hike.

Decades of forest fire suppression has had a devastating impact on this entire area. So much undergrowth has thrived and created even more fuel. Three large forest fires in the past few decades have forever changed the landscape through both fire and massive flooding. There are now efforts to let nature take it's course and even do things like re-introducing beavers to help slow the flow of precious water.

Trying to be mindful of our distance from each other agreement, I sometimes have to run to catch up to Dave. He keeps up on pace so that we won't be hiking back in the dark. "Allyson, you have to come over here and see this."

Falls Trail

I haven't hiked this trail since I was ten years old. My dad had taken us even further to where this falls flows into the Rio Grande. Breathtaking.

"If we don't get a waterfall selfie, were we even here?!"

One thing that will stand out in my mind forever more, is actually something I'm glad the interpretive ranger interpreted to me. She spoke of how this canyon was once a place that was home to Pueblo Indians; families that hunted, gathered, and had a thriving peaceful community. That what now is a mostly quiet, peaceful place to reconnect to nature, if you close your eyes and let your mind wander back centuries ago, you can hear the voices of men, women, laughter of children, babies crying, dogs barking. It makes me wonder what people will say about us as a society a thousand years from now.

I also hear the voice of my father as he leads our little family along the trail. A National Park Ranger when he and my mother met at the Grand Canyon until he retired in 1977 and we moved from this little spot of heaven to a small city at that time, called Mesa, Arizona. I also hear the voice of my mother at the dinner table, "All of you children get up and go outside right now. I want to take a picture of you all together. I never want to forget this perfect moment in time."

Time to head back to our campsite. We get back before dark. Dave has a good internal clock and keeps a perfect pace. I stay closer to him on the way back. It's been a perfect day; also a perfect moment in time.

As for my delicate flower, princess'ey ways, I was looking forward to a long soak, and a real hair washing. We drove home the next morning by way of the Million Dollar Highway, and that's another story for another day, but the important thing is that we made it back just in time for my hair appointment. I'm just not sure I'm meant to live a full-time RV life, although knows what will be said about me a thousand years from now.