Calling AAA (Albuquerque, Abilene and Austin)
Driving into sunsets has been blinding, but driving away from the sunset was even harder.
Leaving the Grand Canyon to start our trek home I thought I would feel sad, but instead I felt anxious — or maybe it was a combination. After two nights in a hotel, when we turned on the RV’s main air conditioning (via the generator) it didn’t work. Eric was sweating and not from heat. “We can’t drive through the desert onto Texas without air conditioning.” He was already stockpiling water. This man is always prepared.
Years ago, we hiked the Billy Goat Trail with our dear friends Kristen & Mike. It was the hottest day of the year. A DC summer day in the high 90s and nearly 90% humidity, it felt like 110 degrees. Kristen and Mike each had a Deer Park water bottle. In my memory, it was one of those tiny bottles you’d stick in your kid’s lunch. Eric wearing his hiking boots, hat and was also outfitted with: his platypus filled with 70 ounces of cold water, snacks, Band-Aids, and as a lifelong diver, his Sammy to quickly wick sweat or water away. Mike teased him asking if we were going on a hike or a 3-day camp out. By the end of several hours, the teasing had turned to praise. We used everything he packed, including the Band-Aids. Leaving Arizona towards New Mexico, Eric was that kind of prepared.
Instead of driving through the park to say goodbye, we headed south to Flagstaff to meet with Darryl, the RV repairman. He refused to wear a mask, but did manage to fix the RV with the flick of a switch. Something about the generator and bumpy roads can jostle things. $75 later, the generator fueled air conditioning was blowing strong.
Note: The generator air cools the body of the RV. The driver’s air conditioning is still not working which is why Eric has procured two more Sammys which he keeps in the freezer or cooler to drape over the driver’s shoulders. Today, driving into the desert, he was wearing a frozen t-shirt and a Sammy across his head like a keffiyeh. It reminded me of being in the Middle East last summer, although today’s American desert felt hotter.
When we told my family we were doing this crazy thing — putting the Wagners in an RV for 2 weeks — Tim didn’t try to talk us out of it, instead he suggested we stopped in the Badlands’s Petrified Forest National Park near the Four Corners to see the Painted Desert. Tim is my favorite and only brother-in-law. I’ve known him since I was nine years old. He knows everything. Literally. The man would crush on Jeopardy. At Tim’s suggestion we headed to the Painted Desert. Sadly, Google led Eric astray and after realizing we’d blown past the park, we double backed to screech through the gates fifteen minutes before the park closed.
Fun fact: the Painted Desert is on Hopi lands. While most of the Native American lands have been closed for Covid, this park was an exception. Bonus. Because it’s technically in Arizona, it is on West Coast time, which meant that we crossed from Mountain time back to West Coast and is the only reason we made it before the park closed.
I said to Eric, the sky just feels so massive here. It’s uninterrupted and as big as the desert is vast. The sky goes on forever. It’s just not like this at home — or anywhere on the East Coast. Likely this is because of the building, hills and general congestion of the places I’ve lived my life, but being here, America feels massive. I suppose we are a big country and like the Scottish band’s song goes, in a big country dreams stay with you.
Leaving Arizona, The Grand Canyon State and driving into New Mexico, “The Land of Enchantment” was a significant shift. The state’s motto, it grows as it goes makes sense to me. Endless, arid fields punctuated with the occasional mesa rock formation gave a distinctly new and Southwestern feel to the region. The other major difference upon entering the state were massive electronic blinking highway signs cautioning people to Stay 6 feet away. Wash your hands. Masks are required in New Mexico.
The mask thing has been really interesting. The other night at happy hour on the rim, Topher realized that his mask has been a staple in all of our activities and consequently all of the pictures we’ve been taking.
“Oh look. I’m wearing a mask. That picture must have been taken in 2020,” Topher mused.
Without missing a beat, his brother added, “Or 2023.”
God, I hope Matthew is wrong.
Traveling in a pandemic is surreal. In our Grand Canyon hotel, Eric Lysoled all surfaces on arrival. [Thank you Kathy Ricchetti for the generous gift of two enormous bottles of Lysol. They’re my security blanket. It is ridiculous how much better I feel better with Lysol on hand.] When we pulled off at a historic Route 66 rest area to get gas, seeing everyone with masks felt foreign. The first time I’d seen that many people wearing masks was in Japan. It still feels weird to see in America. The paradox remains. I hate this virus, it has killed hundreds of thousands of Americans. It’s robbed people of their livelihood. It has left so many people sick, anxious and depressed. The virus also gave us a global pause to reevaluate, rest and refocus. It gave me a gift of time with my young adult children that I’ll never get again.
In chaos there is opportunity.
Cresting over the hill, we saw Albuquerque, a city of blinding lights. My heart sunk to see so much civilization and the feeling that our trip was winding down. This was popular opinion of everyone in the RV — with the exception of maybe Gillian who claims she’s ready to be home.
The night in Albuquerque was uneventful. In the morning, we drove past Walter White’s actual house in our RV and then towards Roswell to see the aliens. A huge X-Files fan, I named my daughter after Scully and as Eric knows spent years with a ridiculous crush on Mulder. (He’s never jealous of my frequent crushes on fictional characters. Outlander’s Jamie be still my beating heart. Mulder? I crushed on him for a solid decade. God I love a well-written smart character.)
Gillian observed that Roswell really leaned into the whole alien thing. A population of 50,000, aliens are everywhere. A giant spaceship greets new comers. Aliens of all shapes and sizes (tall and green, short and silver) are scattered throughout the town. The UFO Museum was closed, but the gift shop was not. We all came away with souvenirs.
We ended our 9-hour travel day in Abilene. It was hot, the same dry heat that has followed us throughout the West. The winds were something else. Saharan winds have been blowing across Texas because 2020. We sat outside to enjoy the flatness of Texas. I’m grateful the wind blew any bugs away because the citronella candles refused to stay lit.
In the morning, we planned to head to Georgetown (north of Austin) to visit Eric’s sister Kristina and her family. As they say, life happens when you’re making other plans. In this case, the other plans were the slide outs (those gorgeous inventions that increase the interior space by about 40%) were stuck out. I talked “Smiley” a local RV repairman into coming out to the Whistle Stop RV Park to spend several hours trying to figure out how to get us on the road. He said that the slide out motor had come unplugged and in other news, the slide out cover was toast, while assuring us it was not our fault, just normal wear and tear. The interior mechanism that rolled up the cover was stripped and the fabric was starting to tear. He said if we drove down the highway (speed limit in Texas is 75 MPH) it would likely tear off potentially skewering any cars behind us. This is why I have a 12 foot long slide cover at my feet. (Imagine having a massive old fashion wind-up window shade taking up most of your interior floor space.) Fortunately, the Whistle Stop had a fantastic pool, so while the adults literally sweated the situation, three of the Wagners got to swim. Small mercies.
We made it to Georgetown, Texas to visit Eric’s sister Kristina and her family. After so many years, we were happy to make the trip to visit the suburb of Austin to see Kristina, Katie, Jackson and AJ. Covid made things a bit awkward with our family donning masks to hug cousins, but in a pandemic things are going to be awkward. We enjoyed two nights together and a swim at the lake. Gillian also enjoyed a trip to Needlewerx Tattoo and Piercing to get a second set of earrings by a snarky, tatted character of life. Cousin time is a fantastic gift. When this journey is over, and it’s over soon, I’m sure the Wagner’s will remember family time as fondly as the Grand Canyon.
Unable to get through to Outdoorsy and after a really frustrating conversation with the jerk answering phones with their roadside assistance, we bit the bullet and paid Dr. Freeze $550 guaranteed us air conditioning for the drive home. Yay! As my Dad used to say, it’s just money, we’ll make more. At least we can continue on our journey home without heat stroke. Next stop. Graceland.
