Tag: travel

Let’s do something different

Our front door currently sums up our fall rather well. Our RV life has been relegated to the entry to our new home. After celebrating and enjoying our wandering times, we’re looking forward now to new adventures, new places, new friends. (Photo by Steve Martaindale)

Leah and I have ended our RV run.

There. I just came out and said it. No drama, no guessing games, which is also pretty much the way we made the change.

We’ve been living in an RV for more than 13 years, in three different trailers. We wintered in five different places in Texas. Our summers included one year at Yellowstone National Park, four years at Mount Rushmore National Memorial, seven years at the Six Flags theme park near Buffalo, NY, and the summer of 2024 we took off work and toured the West. Returning to Texas one fall, we took a route to enable us to visit our 50th state (Wisconsin). We actually camped in 31 different states.

Our lifestyle also freed us for more exotic travel. During those 13 years, we took five cruises, including two transatlantic. We visited South Africa, the Amazon River, Thailand, Spain and Mexico with numerous stops along the way. I was able to visit my seventh continent and Leah her sixth. Of course, we’ve also made numerous friends, some now numbered among our closest.

So, we count our RV experience as a rousing success. But, if it was so great, why did we leave it?

We long ago realized that the run would sooner or later come to an end. The past few years, in fact, we acknowledged that debilitating issues with either our pickup truck or our RV would mean the end of our nomadic life. We’ve been in great health, but we both have background issues that could arise again.

Therefore, we’ve often talked the past few years about what we would do when we could no longer pull a trailer, and the best answer for us, our financial situation and plans for the future was apartment life.

But, what happened to bring us to the point of enacting Project Apartment Life? Did the truck blow up? Did we roll the trailer on a sharp curve? Did a doctor order one of us to bed?

No, nothing dramatic. As it happened, it was more like a death by a thousand cuts. Gradually, there were more and more problems, small and not-so-small, with the RV. To be fair, such things are going to happen when you periodically bounce your home down our deteriorating highway system at 60 mph, but the glitches were piling up on our psyche. It all came down on us, rather literally, when the awning collapsed while we were unloading groceries.

We secured the awning until I could figure out what to do with it and we ended the day discussing our situation. We were both thinking it, but Leah said it first, “Maybe it’s time to move on to our next adventure.” She thought I would object, but I immediately agreed. The next morning, my 71st birthday, we put our plan in motion.

That was a Thursday. We already knew of a 55-plus apartment in the Bryan / College Station area where we wanted to live. We toured the place, found an apartment that seemed perfect, and filled out an application on the spot. On Monday, we finalized the paperwork, arranged for the city to switch the electricity to us, bought a few pieces of furniture and started moving in. Wednesday, one week after the awning collapse, we slept in our new home. We spent two weeks (interrupted by four days of jury duty) moving everything from the trailer and taking care of cleaning and repairing little things and selling it. We slowed our pace a little, using about three weeks to move everything out of a storage building we’ve maintained more than a decade.

And, just like that, we’ve completely vacated our RV lifestyle. Well, there’s still the pickup to find a new home. If you’re interested in a Chevy Silverado 2500 work truck – Duramax diesel, long bed, Allison transmission, 132K miles, white, no engine issues, useless radio, and you can deal with some scrapes and a dent or two – well, don’t be a stranger.

P.S.

I must add that, eight weeks into our new life, we are totally enjoying it.

One more thing

Are you worried just a little bit about being too obsessed with something like hoarding old margarine tubs because you might need them all one day?

Well, this should help you feel better about yourself.

The Associated Press is reporting about a man in California who has ridden a particular Disneyland ride 15,000 times. Fifteen thousand. That’s once a day, every day, for 41 years and 25 days.

But he’s done it in about 13 years. That’s more than 22 times a week, every week.

I find this amazing … even if it’s maybe a little concerning.

Get the AP story by clicking here.

For a bonus, I found an online video of the ride; click here.

Signs, signs …

I’ve long gotten a kick out of interesting signs, be they cute and funny or ridiculous. Last summer, when we were traveling through much of the western USA in our RV, I made more of an effort to capture such signs. Finally, after also poring over many of my older photos, I’ve put together some. This is Round 1.

Beginning with the first photo, top left corner, you’ll see that the second sign indicates (squint!), westbound on Utah State Highway 143, which is just south of Panquitch. You’ve probably made a fair approximation of the situation here. Behind us, U.S. 89 had shot straight through most of the town but then took a left turn at what is in these parts a busy intersection. Understandably, a lot of drivers must have missed that turn and soon found themselves on a lonely road toward the middle of nowhere. Hence the sign. All photos by Steve Martaindale

The photo to the right is pretty self-explanatory. It came from an RV park on Lake Eufaula near Checotah, Okla.

The third photo, running across the page, tells a story without telling the story. Visiting friends in Angel Fire, N.M., I accompanied him to the church he pastors when he was running errands on a weekday. I snapped the photo at the back of the nave, in an area designed for someone to control sound, lights, etc. “Do not turn anything on unless you know what you are doing!” sends a pretty clear message that someone in the past has done just that.

“There’s a reason they call it the Badlands,” is my caption for the photo of the bird sitting on the sign. From that perch, it should be able to see a rattlesnake coming.

Speaking of warnings, the next sign tells you, “Head this way in case of a tsunami.” This was on the outskirts of Ao Nang, Thailand, and it along with other Indian Ocean nations take the warning seriously. The Dec. 26, 2004, Sumatra–Andaman earthquake triggered a tsunami with waves up to 100 feet high, killing an estimated 227,898 people in 14 countries. Approximately 8,000 people died In Thailand.

Lightening the mood a bit is advice I’ve heard from a number of friends through the years. Yeah, you know I’m talking about you.

The bottom left photo is from a non-commercial tourist site known as Sand Caves, located a short distance north of Kanab, Utah. There is a short trail from parking to the caves (which require a challenging climb to reach). You’ll notice on the left side of the photo a traditional trail marker, modified with succinct advice on whether one should follow the offshoot trail.

In Belle Fourche, S.D., there’s the Geographic Center of the Nation Monument. We’ve never been there, but we did travel several miles down a rough dirt road, held up for a while by a small cattle drive, to see the true center of the nation. The cairn you see in the bottom right photo still is not quite the center. Squint inside the yellow circle and you should make out a white spot, which is the U.S. flag flying over the exact geographic center of the 50 states. Now you know.

There are more in my signs collection and I’m certain to do this again. And it doesn’t have to be just me. If you’re willing to share your own cute/clever/flabbergasting sign photo, I’d love to have it. If you don’t have my email or Facebook, leave me a comment (link at the very bottom of this article) and I’ll send you one. I do ask that you send me only a photo that you took and not something neat you found online. I will also give you credit when I share it.

Now, y’all be careful driving out there; don’t get too distracted looking for cool signs.

Happiest tees

Photo by Steve Martaindale

After spending more than three weeks this winter mooching living space from overly gracious cousins in Valencia, Spain, Leah and I relocated to Mallorca, a Mediterranean island a short distance away, for our final week in Europe.

As is often our style, we landed there with no real plans other than to see what we could see, but even that laidback itinerary eased as soon as we arrived. We found ourselves simply wanting to chill a bit. And then, while walking around the resort, we saw the sign pictured above. Now, even two months later, we try to remember to play our happiest tees.

Uh … what?

OK, a quick explainer for those who do not understand the sign.

On a golf course, each hole ends at the same spot, the green, where the destination cup resides. The golfer’s objective is to put the ball in the hole. But you knew that.

What might be unfamiliar to some people is that each hole has multiple starting points – or tees. It’s common to have at least three, usually labeled “women,” “men” and “pro.” They get progressively longer and, in some cases, more challenging.

Finally, there can easily be some pressure applied, or at least imagined, to play the longer tees, to take on a bigger challenge. Someone who accepts that pressure and sees a worse score because of it might not be having as much fun.

And this golf course, much to its credit, is encouraging its guests to have a good time and not worry so much about the score.

Don’t get teed off

One last comment.

It was the second or third time we walked by the sign that Leah pointed out it was only in English. Because this island receives planeloads of German travelers every day, most signs are in Spanish, English and German, but definitely in Spanish.

So, why is this only in English? Spend some time in Spain and it might appear obvious. Residents here lead a much slower life. Many businesses really do close during the afternoon for a couple of hours. People spend time enjoying their meals and their fellow diners. It’s not perfect, but the concept of playing the happiest tees seems to be par for the course.

A life

Santiago de Compostela street. Photo by Steve Martaindale

We’re approaching the final week of our one-month visit to Spain. We arrived with no more of an agenda than to simply explore what we could, greatly relying on serendipity to provide. While those explorations have been principally in our host’s hometown of Valencia, we’ve made a few trips out, including an overnight visit to Santiago de Compostela.

But I’m not doing a travel guide piece.

I mention Santiago to introduce the 2010 film “The Way,” starring Martin Sheen and directed by his son, Emilio Estevez.

But neither am I doing a movie review.

Instead, let’s look at two lines from early in the movie.

Sheen’s character, Tom, learns his son died in an accident in France. Tom has not been happy with his son because he dropped out of school to personally experience life around the planet. Speaking to his assistant while leaving for France to claim his son’s remains, Tom says with some resignation, “He wanted to see the world.”

In the most comforting manner possible, she replies, “And he did.”

Dreams are like that

The weight of that exchange didn’t really hit me the first few times I saw the movie, but it’s truly an encapsulation of Tom’s transformation over the weeks he spent walking the Camino de Santiago – a centuries-old pilgrimage to Santiago de Compostela. (Now the beginning makes sense, right?)

Do you identify with those lines?

“He wanted to see the world.”

“And he did.”

Tom did not understand what his son really wanted, so he thought Daniel had failed. In truth, his son had been fulfilling his dreams all the while his father was disapproving. He was seeing, experiencing, influencing the world.

When Leah and I sold our house almost 11 years ago, bought an RV and set about following our dreams, there were many people who did not understand, some who even, indeed, disapproved. I think a large percentage of those might better appreciate why we’re still living this life that may seem strange to them. If not, we’re OK with it; we don’t expect or need everyone to accept it.

Let’s close with another exchange from the movie that helps explain our decision. Tom has just spent his first night in a hostel, known on the trail as an alberque. After the woman stamped his Camino passport, he asked, “Have you ever walked the Camino, señora?”

“Never,” she replied. “When I was young, I was too busy. And now that I’m older, I’m too tired.”

Is this a great country or what?

Aussie frt stand 3
A rural fruit stand in Australia was one of the highlights of our visit down under.

Do you live in a great country? The best? Is the rest of the world envious of you, desirous of your homeland?

I grew up thankful for being born in the United States, the best place in the world to live. Indeed, I sometimes felt guilty. More than 95 percent of the world’s population was denied the blessing I received.

That’s right, isn’t it?

I was 48 years old before I visited another country (excluding three short border crossings into Mexico and Canada) and it really opened my eyes.

Continue reading Is this a great country or what?