Still on the Desert but Here at Last!

The last road-night was spent at Gila Bend which is fairly close to the US/Mexico border. Accordingly, the night could have been marked off in half-hour increments by the criss-crossing serenade of Border Patrol helicopters. It is amazing, however, that this noise, not unlike the sound of trains and planes, is one to which the human body can quickly and thankfully adjust.

• Highway I-8 cuts across the Sonoran Desert National Monument, where, on the last road-morning, a spectacular sunrise silhouetted thousands of saguaro cacti. Prickly arms raised in welcome, I am certain they were cheering us on to the final destination: Casa Grande, Arizona.
  

• After eight days, one dog-eared scribbled-upon spreadsheet with matching notebook, about 1,856 miles and $481.59 US dollars worth of gas ….. mineRVa finally glided along an imaginary red carpet and through the gates of the Palm Creek Golf and RV Resort. Whew! It is nice to be stationary and with almost a full month ahead before battening down the hatches to hit the road again.
  

• Having taken care of the business of leveling mineRVa, turning on the propane, and hooking up to the local water and electrical outlets, I cracked open a bottle of ready-made Margaritas. Purchased in the local WalMart “liquor and cold beer” aisle, $15.64 buys 1.75 litres of limey delight! With the late afternoon sun dropping toward the southwestern hills, we filled our glasses and set out in search of Bob and Melanie Ashton who had arrived from Kamloops a week earlier. Groups of neighbours, gathered on patios to toast the setting sun, called out welcoming hellos. Happy Hour, it seems is de rigueur. I’d say there’s a good chance I’m going to fit right in!

• And thus the first Palm Creek Happy Hour passed, swilling margaritas and swapping stories. Bob and Melanie are both instructors at the Kelowna RV School that I went to last June. We made fast friends and it was the Ashtons who gifted me with the coupon that is getting me a month at this swank resort for a mere $199. The Ashtons will be here until mid-December when they depart for Southern California to rendezvous with a group for a 14-day tour of the Baja. At Kelowna I took a course about RV’ing on the Baja from a wonderful woman named Gillian. She lived many years in Mexico, was the first travel agent on the Baja and from late fall to early spring, Gillian lives in her motorhome on a Baja beach. This year she has organized a tour group and kindly invited me to come along. While this prospect was initially enticing, my enthusiasm waned as I learned about the Baja roads and driving conditions. The list of must-bring spare parts includes ‘at least one side-view mirror’ since a mirror loss can be the price of safe passage when an on-coming vehicle is encountered. Apparently, roads can be as narrow as 12 feet, with no shoulders but instead, a minimum two-foot straight drop-off on either side. When the Ashtons, who have been RVing for 20 years, commented that the Baja adventure would stretch their driving comfort zone, I decided to count myself out and am sticking to that decision.

• Ta ta for now. I’ve got to dash over to the front office to complete my registration and start exploring the resort…..
  

P.S.

• When I first realized that my Palm Creek month ends December 24, I called the resort to inquire about staying another week or perhaps a month longer. The quoted rate of $900 per month persuaded me that a road trip at Christmas could be a good thing and Christmas Eve in a Wal-Mart parking lot might be an adventure.
  

• Just before leaving Victoria, however, I decided to forego the Wal-Mart Christmas and reserved a spot at Golden Village Palms Resort in Hemet, California, where, conveniently, I have a “half-off for a week” coupon. I will actually stay there for 5 weeks. This was a fortuitous decision since the only two WalMarts we’ve checked have both been “overnight unfriendly” with tow-away signs at all entrances. When we pulled into the WalMart at Barstow, we had barely crossed the property line when a security guard frantically waved us down and said we couldn’t park a motorhome in the lot, even to shop.