Getting from Here to There

 

After, “May I look inside your trailer?” the two questions I get asked most often are, “Aren’t you afraid to travel alone?” and, “Don’t you ever get lonely?”  And it might surprise some of you, but the answer to both is “Yes.”  But being afraid of something doesn’t mean you shouldn’t do it.  And loneliness is possible when you are surrounded by people, even people you love.  Besides, what choice do I have?  I want to explore the planet and I am plum out of exploration partners.

And so I set off from Convict Lake (the picture above was taken on my last morning walk) toward my ultimate goal of Littleton, Colorado, having decided to take my time along the 900+ mile route and check out some areas that might invite further exploration next summer.  My route that morning had me taking back roads and two-lane highways all the way to Rachell, Nevada, where I would spend a night at the Little A'Le'Inn RV Park right smack dab in the middle of Area 51. 

I left the Eastern Sierra’s heading East, with no one else on the two-lane road and nothing but desert stretching out in front of me. 

As always on these two-lane roads, there is no room to pull over and you quickly lose cell service.  My thoughts quickly turned to what would happen If.  Not a great way to start the trip.  And since I was trying to keep my blood pressure down, I took some deep breaths, and reminded myself of a few things:

“Kit, first of all you are brave and you know you are thankful for that—it has led you to this incredible life, so just keep being brave.”

And,

“This is why you prepare:  You test all the tires' pressure, you empty your black tank and make sure you have at least 25% of fresh water, you fill two gallons of drinking water, you move your Garmin [capable of satellite communication] to the front seat.  You have a driving plan, just stick to it.”

To distract myself I decided to count the cars I saw; no one was in front or behind me so I counted those coming toward me.  After only tallying five cars in an hour I realized this particular game was stressing me out even more.

Loneliness set in.  I missed having a driving companion—at least one with a dry nose.  So on the few occasions when I had a bar of service, I reached out to some close friends.  The talks were restorative but quick, often ending without warning as the cell service disappeared.

When I turned onto the Extraterrestrial Highway (I kid you not) and knew I still had about 100 miles left, I decided to listen to a downloaded session of the aforementioned “Smartless” podcast.  Those four guys got me through; because honestly, I was close to turning around and heading back to my comfort zone in the Eastern Sierras.  Not that there was any place to turn around—that would have been about a six-thousand point turn but completely do-able since there WERE NO CARS ON THE ROAD.

Anyway, Jason, Sean and Will interviewed Ken Burns and it was a delightful hour during which my mind was whisked away.

It was only just after 3:00 when I pulled into the Little A'Le'Inn Café and RV Park.  My goodness.  If I wasn’t so tired, I would have kept on driving.  Check this out, that is Wurzig and The Beagle under a tree:

But I was tired and, after three nights without cell service, I had a lot of email and financial work to do and was getting an unbelievably great Verizon signal. 

I walked into the Café to ask about an RV spot.

“Hello and how are you today?!” the bartender greeted me like I have walked into the café every day for the past month. 

There were a few customers, it was easy to tell the locals from the tourists; the locals clearly take great pride in living in Area 51 and all look more than a little spaced out.  After registering and being directed to one of the three pull-through spots out back, one of the locals said, “Welcome to the neighborhood!”

My my.

I parked, walked the dogs and got down to work.  One of the things I love most about the Beagle is how beautiful she is inside; it is a pleasure to just sit inside working and occasionally glance out the wrap-around windows at…well…that day, a flying saucer held aloft by a cherry picker.

Thankfully I could stream Thursday Night Football and so watched the Seahawks lose again.  It was nice to have somewhat live entertainment.  Then, around 9:00 PM, loud booms began.  At first I thought they were sonic booms but then I looked outside and saw fireworks going off.  And not just the little ones an average person can pick up, these were giant, bursting spheres, showering red and yellow sparks right down upon us.

Poor River was a wreck; she has never liked fireworks and these were way too close for comfort (for me too.)  She crawled under the bed and Beagle shook with her trembling.  It took her hours to calm down.

I suppose they set the fireworks off so the aliens know where to land.

This morning we woke to a vicious wind storm; the noses were not at all interested in being outside, they quickly did their business and then Opus stared at the car door as if to say, “Let’s get the hell out of here.” 

I couldn’t agree more.  I could see the black clouds moving in and hurriedly packed up Beagle.  I do have to say, after a delicious breakfast and coffee at the bar in the café, the locals won me over.  They are a wild bunch, but so very down to earth.

-K