Let’s stick with some more of these journal entries, dear reader, and Roll, Baby, roll! We covered some time in the last post, did we not? But now, we must cover some distance. Hold on, if you will, and not loosely!

  “Getting ready to FINALLY head south toward New Mexico. One last night at Crow Valley Campground (which was last night) in the Pawnee National Grasslands, out on the hustling, bustling oil country prairie of northern Colorado was great. Bonfire/campfire/cookfire made from gathered wood…but now I gotta go. I am ready to roll. Bring it!”

–Journal entry: Wednesday; November, 14rd, 2018; 11:26 am. Anxious in this camper, which I like to call Cochise.

  “This is so SWEET! I’m at St. Vrain State Park, Eagle Loop campsite #52, and I have COMPLETE UTILITY HOOKUPS! WTF is up with that? The “city water service” shyte is the Bomb.com, as some youngsters used to say. I’m parked on a concrete pad just off I-25 and Hwy 119 – known as the Del Camino exit on the interface with Longmont – where CJ [my son] lives. How about that?

  It’s such a 180-degree flip from how I’ve been living lately – which at times was total seclusion – to seeing the candy-colored neon lights of the gas station, truck stop, McDonalds village, and hearing the interstate HUM, with the big, red sunset and growing night sky and WARM ,WARM, WARM! I think this will work just fine; I do. Oh yes, I think this will work just fine!”

–Journal entry: Same day, hey!; 8:31 pm. Relaxing in Cochise.

  “Wow, I had the electric heater going all night so I wouldn’t have to use propane, and when I woke it was 80 degrees in here. Amazing! The water hook-up is a treat – enough pressure to actually flush the toilet. And having a septic connection means I can actually clean this place and empty the tanks. Quite the unknown luxury, I must say.

  Now, I’m off to see CJ, and tie up some loose ends. Then we’ll go have some breakfast – at a restaurant, with other people milling about.  Silly, the things that give one pleasure when stepping out of solitude. Silly indeed, and nice.”

–Journal entry: Thursday; November,15th, 2018; 10:33 am. Contented and warm in my camper, Cochise.

  “Alright, this is it. Last day at St, Vrain State Park, and last day in Colorado. I’m about ready to hook-up and head to Raton, NM, and Sugarite State Park, on the other side of the pass. It’s 32 degrees and overcast here in Longmont, so I’m waiting for it to warm up a bit – and then I’m gone. Shooting for Last Chance, CO, where I’ll head south on Hwy 71 to La Junta, and on to Raton. I put new lights on the trailer so I’m ready for the trip. NO MORE APPREHENSION!”

–Journal entry: Saturday; November, 17th, 2018; 9:10 am. Feeling ready as ever in this home on wheels, Cochise.

  “FOCK THAT! You should have been more apprehensive. It turned to freezing rain for a bit, so I didn’t leave until 11 am and then I noticed my new lights didn’t work. Long story short…I didn’t get out of Longmont until 2:30 and made it to Strasburg after the roads turned to ice. DON’T EVER DO THAT AGAIN!!!”

–Journal entry: Later that day; 5:54 pm. Witless in Cochise.

  “Well, the sun has melted the ice off the roads, and I’ve finished breakfast at Rookies in Strasburg – where I camped last night in the parking lot. Ready to hit the asphalt and see if I can’t actually get out of Colorado and into the Land of Enchantment.”

–Journal entry: Sunday; November, 18th, 2018; 11:58 am. In the same little camper, Cochise.

  “Yeah, that was a nice thought. These prairie highways (CO 71) are rough-surfaced and perched atop a berm of road base with no shoulder. No one lives out there, it seems, and you might see another vehicle every 10-15 minutes. There are no places to pull off if you would need to. Very unnerving.

  But I made it to Rocky Ford around 4:30 and decided to stay here because the highway I get on now goes west, and the sun sets early these days. It was the smart move. I’ll see how far I get tomorrow with an earlier start. Deming is over 8 hours away (at my speed). I’ll have to shoot for somewhere between there and Las Vegas, driving on I-25 most of the day. Right now, I’m still about an hour north of the border.

  This is an interesting town. Trains pass through loudly. It’s got great architecture, much of which has seen better days. Lots of NM license plates.”

–Journal entry: Same day; 5:36 pm. Back in the camper, Cochise.

  “About to get back on the road from my street-side sleep spot in Rocky Ford, home of the best dadgum cantaloupe you’ll ever eat. Sunny and warm outside, short drive to Raton, NM, and then down to Las Vegas where I’ll hopefully be able to store the camper at the campground. Deming is too much of a long shot at this point. I should be there early this afternoon. Then tomorrow it’s off to SoCal and Thanksgiving with family. Whew! I’m getting ragged.”

–Journal entry: Monday; November, 19th, 2018; 9:05 am. Still in this camper, that I call Cochise.

  “So far, so good! I made it here to Storrie Lake State Park in Las Vegas, NM, but got in later than I thought I would. I guess I’m not set up for going very fast. My top speed was 60mph on the interstate. Anything more and the whole rig would start to pitch like a ship in a tempest. No bueno!

  “I stayed in the right lane and let the traffic blow by at 70 [mph] plus, but when I had to hop into the left lane and allow cars to enter from a ramp, I realized that I couldn’t see safely far enough behind me with these cheap, plastic side view mirror extensions. I’d hit my blinker [turn signal] and just ease into the fast lane, listening for the blast of a truck horn and praying like a dirty sinner.

  There were times I’d pull off at a rest stop, wobble out of BroBo on what felt like sea legs and dry heave behind Cochise. Scariest driving I’ve ever done. No way I’d ever try to go through Santa Fe and Albuquerque with this set-up. That could be the end of it all. No gracias!

  I still need to secure storage for this trailer. There are a couple options…

  Watched a great Monday Night Football game on the tablet, because I have AC electricity and a 4G cell signal. Ate some chicken that needed to be eaten before I leave for Thanksgiving at Amanda’s [my daughter] in Encinitas. Tomorrow. Damn…”

–Journal entry: Later that night; 11:15 pm. In the camper at Storrie Lake Campground, Las Vegas, NM. Finally in the Land of Enchantment!!!

  “The first night in NM State Parks is a success! I like this place, even though it’s in winter mode (no water) and the [septic] dump station is closed (and has been for 3-4 years, I hear). But I did find storage for the trailer just 2.2 miles away at the Vegas RV Park, since I can’t leave it here longer than 24 hours. It’s more than I would have paid in Deming, but I’m not in Deming. I’ll be glad just not having to pull that damn trailer.

  Then, it’s off to SoCal… This has been quite the adventure, and it tends to make me nervous – which is putting it mildly. But I’m facing my fears and trying to punch them down. That’s how you gotta roll, Boy!”

–Journal entry: Tuesday; November, 20th, 2018; 8:48 am. I believe you know where we are.

  And here, dear reader, is where my journal takes a 6-day jump. The journey to visit my daughter and her fiancée in Encinitas (actually, it’s the beachside, uber-funky, surfer neighborhood of Leucadia) twenty-some miles north of San Diego is told in retrospect at the end of the return trip. My son, CJ, will meet us there, in that Pacific paradise, and we’ll celebrate Thanksgiving as a family, with me being the eldest generational member, since my folks passed away several years ago.

  I’m glad you have stayed with me this far, and I hope you hold steady to the course. I need to take a break and once again eat. Sometimes I get going with this story, drinking coffee and tea until my thoughts start to falter.

  Pulling words from this journal is easier than finding them in my mind, but I’ll continue to do so with your consent.  I want us all to be there, in the moment, as these rubber tires roll through this rubber tramp existence I’ve chosen to adopt, hoping it lights a spark in your imagination as it did mine several years ago, when the vagabond lifestyle became more appealing to me, more alluring – an elixir to what was fast becoming a sedentary life – in the post Great Recession depression for those of us Baby Boomers who went into it smelling like a rose, only to come out wiping dog doo off our shoes. But no tears here, my friends. No lagrimas, acqui, mi amigos!

  So, I’m off to prepare a healthy meal and better enable myself to take the next step of this seemingly unending tale. I hope you return, to further accompany me on this trek. It’s much more enjoyable if I’m not going it alone, with my faithful dog Rambeaux, piloting BroBo and lugging Cochise – into that vast unknown…