Life in the RV Parks

We have, no doubt, reached that moment and that post that many of you are waiting for. I've been requested to share with you how life in the RV Parks has been going. I have NO idea why that would be, but I shall do my best to be as objective as possible....

The first two RV parks were fantastic! They had paved, level pull-throughs. They had sparkling clean bathrooms, with stone and marble showers and amazing water pressure. So clean that Nicole said she would stand barefoot in the shower. Said bathrooms were just a short, smooth, flat walk from the RV to said oasis of pleasure and delight. The parks themselves were secured with gates and official looking people with badges around their necks. They were well lit...so much so that when we pulled in late at night (because, you see, it's a big country and we've been trying to see a lot every day. We didn't plan our trip to stay in the parks much.)....we could easily attach all the periphenalia up deftly and quickly, and be in bed in under 10 minutes. Ahh, the life.

We spent 12 hours on the road yesterday, seeing the breathtaking beauty of the Painted Desert and Petrified Forest. Dining for lunch and dinner on Route 66. Driving through amazing countryside, marveling that something so foreign to us was a part of America as well. Nigel (our British-speaking GPS system) plotted our course for Ranchero de Santa Fe, and we all romantically thought that sounded as if hacienda-style, dripping with blooming flowers and delicate water fountains style RVing was in our near future. We began to be a bit concerned when we twice asked Nigel to recalculate the route, and both times he pointed us 12 or so miles north of Santa Fe. At one point, took my eyes off the wheel long enough to see Nicole, my navigator for the day, studying intensely both the TripTik, a map, Nigel and a Arizona/New Mexico Guidebook. Ever had the feeling that you were driving yourself to your own doom?

It got darker and darker - here's spin: the stars became brighter and brighter - as we drove through and then past Santa Fe. We turned off the road and followed the interstate (per Nigel's insistence) for about 10 miles, then found Rancheros de Santa Fe a few miles up. First things first: there was no hacidenda. I've looked again in the light of morning, and there's still no hacidenca. I saw something that passed for a pool, but it was a far cry from a delicate water fountain. It was 1 a.m. when we pulled up, so Nicole grabbed the map of the campground (when did I miss that we stopped calling it an RV park and called it a campground?!) and we found our hole. Notice, dear people, that I didn't say spot. So, we pulled into our hole, much to the delight of Kristi and Nicole, who were excited that they could pull out there "light on their head" gear. Of all of the nature things we had to take care of, there was one nature call that could not be ignored. There was a delightful man/woman international sign for potty pointing us in the direction of sheer darkness, so off the intrepid campers took, with me glued to Kristi's backside.

Up a gravel hill and around a dark bend later, we found IT. A composting toilet. Now, I will admit, it was pleasantly surprising, if one could use such a word as pleasant to describe a nightmare such as it. It didn't smell. It didn't have much by way of amenities, like, you know, water. Or soap. Or toilet paper. But it had a hole, and by giminy, we used it! On our way back around the pitch black bend, we were growled at. Nicole, who in some sort of weird genetic mutation was actually skipping ahead like some intrepid explorer actually enjoying this whole danged experience, stopped in her tracks. We stopped right behind her, if just for a minute. I'm sure it was me who asked, "What was that?!" but I couldn't tell you for sure, as the voice came out in a high squeal. Kristi, ever the wonderful encourager, took my arm and said, "It's just a dog. Yes, ummmm, right. Just a dog. Let's keep walking."

Flip flops flipping at the speed of light, we hoofed it back to the RV, the only one blazing with light and life in the midst of sheer darkness. I noticed that we didn't have the nightly debate on air conditioning vs. open window. It was cool to the point of cold out, so we cranked up that AC to high, bundled up, and I huddle in the queen-sized chamber of death with Nicole and Oscar the Super Security Stuffed Puppy all night. Nature be damned. This girl's got her limits.
Katrina