We have taken a brief vacation from our vacation, and boy, has it has been glorious.

We left Utah two weeks ago before making our way to the Pacific. In St. George, UT, we had a wonderful visit with Wisconsin church friends who let our dogs run in their yard, took us out to lunch, and sent us off with a full load of groceries – wow! We also got a few repairs done on Nic’s dirt bike in St. George.

Our brief stay by Lake Mead in Nevada taught us an important lesson: avoid sand in the RV. While reading reviews for camping spots in the desert between Utah and California, I came across a few people warning against driving on certain roads due to sand. They had gotten stuck enough to call for a tow. I asked Nic why we hadn’t had any issues with that yet, and if we ever would. Nic confidently replied that it would never be an issue for us because we were driving cautiously and were much too smart for that. Not even two days after that discussion, we arrived at the shore of Lake Mead at dusk. It had been a long, tiring day for us, and we were eager to find a campsite after driving down several miles of washboard gravel. We pulled off the road and began the typically quick task of levelling the RV and orienting ourselves appropriately to avoid as much direct sunlight as possible. As darkness fell, we managed to get our back wheels quite stuck in deep sand. We tried several quick solutions without success and decided to face our problem in the morning. We went to bed that night unable to think of anything other than how stuck we were.

Flat tires!

Letting out most of the air in our tires and building a path for the back tires

Taking everything off the back of the RV

Stuck in sand

The firepit we had to move

We worked for several hours in hot sun and blowing sand the next morning to break free. We were so thankful for cell service, because Nic found some clever solutions online. We cleared a path for the RV by moving a fire pit (and pushing aside a terrible amount of broken glass and metal debris), took everything off the back of the RV, built a path for the back tires in the sand, and lowered the tire pressure drastically in all six tires. Hearts pounding, we gingerly edged our way out of the sand and maneuvered the RV to a safer spot. Freedom! We spent another hour reloading the dirt bikes and very slowly inflating the tires with an electric pump while our generator stubbornly limped along. Our next online purchase included some tire traction strips and a shovel. Hopefully we will never have to use them!

Freedom!

Our drive into busy southern California was stressful. We still lumber along in the RV, and we did not enjoy watching maniacs speed around us in the narrow, bumpy California highway lanes. We were relieved to arrive in Corona del Mar in one piece. And our vacation began in beautiful Corona.

Good old Huntington Beach

Huntington Beach Pier

Lazy, spoiled dogs

Blue Chair Bakery – a must if you are ever on Balboa Island. The owner and her baked goods and coffee are delightful!

Boat dog

Trying to survive surrounded by so much water

We stayed with close family friends for a week. I’ve been referring to them as my aunt and uncle for years, and they are our family in every sense except for shared blood. We were in paradise in their beautiful home. They helped us troubleshoot and solve our generator issue and let us wash every single piece of fabric we have. They let us tag along for their peaceful morning walks along the Pacific, lattes in hand. We joined them for lunch most days, and they fed us way too much delicious food and homemade bread every evening. They genuinely loved our dogs and gave them the run of their house and tons of attention. Luna even got to take a dip in their pool! They graciously assimilated us into their lives for a week, providing us an amazing breed of hospitality. They encouraged us and loved us beyond belief, and we are so thankful to have people like them in our lives.

While in southern California we got to see a number of other wonderful people too. We cherish the time spent with family and old friends. We left the area feeling so full in so many senses. We certainly don’t look like we’re starving, but the common theme in our visits was people quite aggressively pushing large amounts of food on us. So with an overflowing pantry and slightly tighter (but very clean) clothes, we began our trip north.

We have spent the last three days basking in the beauty of the Sierra Nevada. We were blessed by even more hospitality at Hume Lake Christian Camp. Some Wisconsin friends of ours worked at Hume a few years back, and after hearing many stories about the camp, we felt we simply had to visit. Our friends arranged for an associate at Hume to show us around the other day, and she gave us the behind-the-scenes tour of the incredible camp. We were struck by the friendly and generous tightknit community of Hume. We have never seen such a harmonious little “village.” Everyone pitches in to help, which we saw firsthand when our new friends found a tool Nic needed for his dirt bike and then helped him unload the bikes, use the tool, and load everything back up.

The mighty Kings River

After leaving Hume we ventured deeper into Kings Canyon, staring up in awe at the sheer granite walls surrounding us. We spent a night not even fifteen feet from the powerful Kings River. The river is especially high right now, and the water appears angry as it churns its way through the rocky canyon. The roar is loud enough for us to keep our windows closed and for Nic to sleep with earplugs.

Grant Cove – a chance to see magnificent sequoias

Our next big goal is Alaska, so we will try to cover some serious mileage over the next few weeks.

We have continued our Utah travels on some spectacular roads. These scenic byways have taken us through quiet backcountry via dramatic cliffs. If you want to know what Mars will look like after terraforming (making it habitable, I just learned), just drive through southern Utah.

Awesome camping spot off the Burr Trail outside of Boulder, UT

Burr Trail Switchbacks – we did NOT drive these in the RV

The Burr Trail winds through Long Canyon

Calf Creek Falls

Roadtrip to Mars

On our long driving days, I occasionally read aloud while my chauffeur takes me and the dogs through new and beautiful country. We have been reading John Steinbeck’s Travels with Charley, a sweet travel memoir costarring Steinbeck’s pooch Charley. We recently read a chapter discussing how someone who is on the road for a long time can become too stuffed with new sights and experiences to keep taking them in, how eventually the urge will be to shorten and even skip certain destinations altogether. And we wondered, is that happening to us at all? Will we hit a point of uncomfortable satiety on this trip? Are our eyes going to glaze over?

We agreed that day that we felt a bit full of desert. We have seen so many beautiful red, orange, and yellow cliffs, arches, spires, hoodoos, and canyons. We have driven through and hiked through and biked through so many dry riverbeds. Our dogs have stepped on and been poked by many varieties of spiky desert plants. We have soaked up so much desert sun and felt its rays wick all moisture out of our dry skin and chapped lips. And now we are thirsty for tall conifers and flowing rivers, for rainy days and storm clouds that actually precipitate.

Bryce Canyon National Park reassured us today that our eyes are not yet glazed over. No way. And we can still gaze out at rock formations with immense pleasure, even if they are some tone of red, orange, or yellow. We spent today hiking our way through more than seven miles of God’s gorgeous creation. Bryce Canyon is a wonderland of peach-colored hoodoos, a feast for the eyes. We felt like we were in some underwater coral grotto, or the board game Candyland, or perhaps Gaudi’s mind as he imagined his whimsical architectural creations. The surplus of eye candy even slowed our hiking pace considerably, which very rarely happens with my regimental tendencies. The background track God chose for today’s adventure was loud and temperamental. With temps in the 30s and 40s, we spent the day shifting clothing layers as we experienced bouts of snow, hail, and strong sunshine. Strong gusts of wind howled around us all day. We like temperamental, and we’d rather be cold than hot. So we bundled up, enjoyed our emptyish park, and decided that this is our favorite place in Utah.

Snow!

A sunny and warm moment

Storm clouds roll across Bryce Canyon

In other news, here are a few interesting tidbits:

• We can cook a frozen pizza in our microwave/convection oven. This changes everything.
• We paid for a campsite last night for the first time in three weeks. Our nightly average has been doing pretty well!
• The small-town grocery store in tiny Escalante charges $1.49 for a can of green beans – outrageous! Strangely, we found Nic’s favorite Greek yogurt brand at that same store for a cheaper price than we’ve ever seen.
• The little camp store at rather remote Bryce Canyon National Park has a far superior snack selection to the aforementioned small-town grocery store. Their meat selection was about equal.
• Fine desert dust sticks to dirty dogs quite efficiently. A small dog with a slightly oily coat (not naming names here) can change his color completely with a few quick twists in the sand. Magic!

Have you ever been so thankful for fully inflated tires? And if you’re twenty miles up a mountain road, having climbed 4,000 feet with your behemoth of an RV threatening to overheat, with not a hint of cell service around, would you then be thankful for six fully inflated tires? We sure were.

We had made the long drive into the La Sal Mountains above Moab, UT, to escape the heat we experienced the night before. We don’t sleep well unless it’s under 50 degrees, and we were too hot and sweaty from a day at Canyonlands to deal with heat overnight. After climbing over 4,000 feet in a short distance, the engine did indeed threaten to overheat. We gave the old girl a quick nap and then proceeded to the next pull-off we could find. Exploring for dry camping spots on forest roads always take time, and the gravel area where we stopped seemed more promising than the last few we had passed. We decided to move on and find a better campsite after a few minutes, and as soon as we got going, we heard an ominous thumping. Oh. No. We backtracked to the gravel and had a quick and desperate conversation about how one of us would need to ride the dirt bike down to cell service to call for help. And whoever showed up probably wouldn’t have the right tools to change the flat, so then we’d need to get a tow. But you can’t easily tow our rig down a steep mountain. And the whole thing would cost a fortune. Fortunately, we had a huge rock stuck between one set of the rear tires. Problem solved, thank you, God. The worst part of it all was that I tried to hit the rock out with the sharp end of the hatchet in an unsupervised moment and then unashamedly lied about it. I can’t imagine why Nic doesn’t appreciate the way I very skillfully dulled his hatchet blade. He kept the rock as a souvenir.

Our mountain campsite

The La Sal Mountains from a distance

The campsite we found shortly after the not flat tire incident is one of our favorites and gave us a reason to like Moab. At 8,200 feet in elevation, we had huge views of snowy mountains to the east and Moab and its surrounding rock craziness to the west. We were able to sleep well as the temperature dropped each night. Our little grassy knoll was serene, breezy, and delightful. I even found a level spot to do my old yoga routine, a weekly practice that has been sorely lacking (terrible pun, I’m sorry) from this trip. Every yoga session should be done at 8,200 feet with a cool breeze coming off the mountains and strong sunshine taking the edge off the wind.

Canyonlands

Overlook at Canyonlands

We sandwiched our mountain retreat between two long days at Canyonlands National Park and Arches National Park. At Canyonlands, we hiked on the rim of the Island in the Sky, a spit of land that juts out over layers of canyons carved by nature’s forces. At Arches, we hiked through sand and over sliprock to see many beautiful natural arches glowing red in the afternoon sunshine. We’re exploring Utah in high season, unfortunately, so the parks swarmed with a mix of interesting people: very dirty river-rat types who have given the grocery store a reason to post a “Do Not Shower” sign in the bathroom, sunburned college students who travel in packs and make sure everyone understands their central location in the universe, foreigners wearing all sorts of interesting hiking apparel, retirees with zip-off pants and matching Seattle sombreros, families with kids forced to pose for pictures at every step. We certainly had some opportunities to people watch as we hiked. I guess that’s what these parks are for, after all – for everyone to have a chance to enjoy the natural treasures of this country.

Mini cairns

Walking on fins

Delicate Arch from a distance

North Window and South Window

Call us antisocial, but after a few days in Moab, we’re ready for some peace and quiet. Our RV doesn’t allow us to drive endless miles down Utah backroads, but I’m sure we’ll find a few accessible and quiet spots for the next few nights. And we’re hoping for clear skies Friday night, so we can watch the Lyrid meteor shower. Views are supposed to be best over the western US and western Great Lakes, so check it out yourself!

More smooth sailing might make for some boring writing, but I still have no huge catastrophes to share – just the list of places we have been in the last few days.

Sunset falling on the South Rim

Lunch with a view

We did indeed see the Grand Canyon last week. Too big for comprehension, its rocky walls assaulted our eyes. Even through the dusty haze kicked up by the wind, reds and yellows and oranges vividly decorated the canyon walls. We felt overwhelmed by the crowds, completely unaccustomed to being surrounded by so much commotion. To escape the bustle, we took a shuttle to Hermits Rest at the west end of the South Rim and watched the sun set slowly as we walked ten miles on the Rim Trail. We camped that night off a forest road just south of Tusayan, the town closest to the South Rim entrance. The next morning, we witnessed dozens of helicopters full of tourists flying just over the treetops above us on their way to and from the nearby airport, sometimes only separated by ten seconds. On our way out, we stopped at a few viewpoints on the east side of the South Rim and had lunch with huge views of the Colorado River winding its way through the canyon.

We entered the Navajo Reservation for the second time (first time was in New Mexico) after leaving the Grand Canyon. We have done some sightseeing on reservation land, but for the most part, we’ve driven through reservations without much stopping. This time, we stopped for groceries right off the highway in Tuba City. We were the only white people in a very crowded grocery store. Nic thinks he heard a mom pointing out the lone white people to her kids, but his hearing isn’t always so good. We definitely felt a little out of place. Even though the grocery store selection and prices were pretty bad, we could have gotten a good deal (and had quite a few choices) on cuts of mutton artfully displayed in their very own glass case.

Driving from northern Arizona into Utah was like watching live drama unfold before our eyes. We started in scrubby red hills interspersed with pink canyons. The rosy cliffs gradually took over, making a stunning contrast against the light yellow and green groundcover. As the cliffs fell away, we began to see dramatic rocky buttes and spires appear on the horizon in front of us without reason or warning. We stopped to take a few photos, iconic American road trip pics for sure with that dramatic scenery. Several miles down the road, we were shocked to see a number of people setting up tripods in the middle of the road, posing for selfies, and scampering off the highway just in time for us to lumber by.

Goosenecks State Park – San Juan River snaking through cliffs

Valley of the Gods – our front porch

We found ourselves a free campsite in the middle of the buttes, spires, and mesas of Valley of the Gods. We have 360-degree views of gorgeous red rock formations, warmed each day under a strong sun and technicolor blue sky. The ground is such a deep, rich tone of red that Luna looks a little green against it. I would have included a picture of her, but she didn’t think it would be very flattering

For anyone who wanted an update, the hurting loved one I wrote about recently is out of the hospital and working hard to heal. Praise God! He sustained a few injuries that will take time to heal completely, but we are grateful that he is smiling and walking and still here with us.

Excursion deep into the AZ hills to Crown King

Sunset views from Aunt Dori and Uncle Mike’s backyard

More of Nic’s extended family welcomed us into their home this week, and boy, did we ever feel welcomed. We hadn’t planned to stay a night, but the company was just too sweet and good to leave so quickly. Aunt Dori and Uncle Mike filled our stomachs with their famous red gravy (pasta, red sauce, and garlic bread), and Grandma Hendrychs made pound cake. We hiked through some beautiful granite rock formations with Uncle Mike on a lovely spring afternoon. The dogs even got special treatment with playtime in the backyard with friendly little Jack (hope he’s not permanently scarred by their antics). Although it wasn’t one of our darker nights, Uncle Mike set up his telescope, and we gazed in awe at the texture of the moon and Jupiter’s visible moons and swirling layers of gas. They sent us off the next morning after a hearty breakfast of Grandma’s crepes and many mugs of good, strong coffee. We left with full hearts and bellies, and we are so thankful to have been welcomed so warmly. We love being on our own, completely free to follow every whim, but quality time with loved ones can feel like an oasis in a vast desert.

Campsite views of red cliffs

Sun-kissed hour

Humphreys Peak in the distance

Views from the summit of Bear Mountain

First live snake sighting in AZ

Moving north on some spectacular scenic roads, Sedona also welcomed us warmly…literally. We basked and then began to wilt under the strong sunshine as we explored Red Rock territory. We were overwhelmed by the sprawl and traffic of Sedona, but its natural wonders made our stop worthwhile. Throughout our day of touring, we heard the constant hum of small aircraft and helicopters. Jeep tours and aggressive drivers churned up dust on every dirt road. I did not even find peace and quiet at the summit of Bear Mountain, since I had been closely followed by some foreigners pumping euro pop from their cell phone. We shook the fine red dust off our feet and left Sedona on the scenic route north through Oak Creek Canyon, supposedly the most beautiful drive in Arizona according to our guidebook. The sun glinted off the windshields of the long line of cars edging forward into town on the other side of the road. A very relaxed Arizona driver passed us on a double yellow, honked, and gestured rather unkindly. Nice touch, man.

Red Rock Crossing

Luna takes a dip

Sedona overlook

Curvy climb out of Oak Creek Canyon

We are in prime tourist territory and will experience much more of the crowds today as we head to the Grand Canyon. We are looking forward to gazing into the expanse of the canyon, but we are also looking forward to the solitude we will find after we leave.

Since writing last, we have been busy. Normal life chores have consumed some of our last week. We waited around for a few hours in Las Cruces, NM, while we got an oil change, each taking a long and enjoyable shift in a deliciously packed used bookstore while the other watered and entertained the pooches. We then wasted away another very hot and sunny seven-hour chunk of time (with some very warm pooches in tow) outside of Fountain Hills, AZ, as our RV’s rear end finally got a much-needed lift. We also filed state income taxes, did three loads of laundry, shipped a very late birthday present (went out today, Em!), replaced my dirt bike’s mirrors and grips, installed a new battery in my phone, and cleaned and lubricated our bike chains. You can probably guess who did which tasks.

Strange rock formations at City of Rocks State Park

Catwalk Trail

We have also had plenty of time for fun. We spent our last few days in New Mexico making our way from Las Cruces to Glenwood, a tiny town at least an hour away from cell service. Shortly after leaving Las Cruces, we passed through our first US Border Patrol Checkpoint. I didn’t particularly appreciate having to stop and talk to a government official when I hadn’t broken any laws and hadn’t crossed any borders, but I guess these checkpoints are pretty common so close to the border. On the way to Glenwood, we camped amid the whimsical rock formations of City of Rocks State Park and bathed in a very hot private pool at Faywood Hot Springs. We spent two nights at a free campground just outside of Glenwood, NM, a town that claims you will never forget her. We did indeed make some good memories there, so maybe the claim is valid. We walked a mile on the suspended steel Catwalk Trail over a river rushing through a rosy canyon and explored the area’s curvy mountain backroads a bit. Also in the area, and reminiscent of our time in Iceland, we hiked to the alleged San Antonio Hot Springs without finding anything other than a quietly cool (and probably high) river.

Crossing the border into Arizona, our route took us over a rapidly descending mountain road. As we left the thick forest behind, we began to see bits of color on the side of the road. Over the next few days, we watched our world don a colorful coat of wildflowers, the hills dusted in hues of yellow, orange, purple, and pink. We’re so accustomed to traveling in shoulder seasons and hitting awkward weather that it was quite a shock to be somewhere for the peak of anything. And with the wildflowers came the many mighty saguaro cacti, standing guard for centuries over their surroundings.

Apache Trail adventures

Roosevelt Dam

Cliff dwellings at Tonto National Monument

Inmates working away

The bridge by Roosevelt Dam

Snack break at Apache Lake

We spent two nights by the shores of Roosevelt Lake, a beautiful azure gem set in the hills of central Arizona. Our favorite activity in the area was a scenic drive on part of the Apache Trail, a mountainous dirt road along the Salt River. With beauty around each curve, wildflowers abounding, eye-popping views of the Roosevelt Dam, the Superstition Mountains to the south, and a gracefully meandering green river to the north, we had to work hard to keep our eyes on the road. We cooled off from a long day of blazing sun on the road by taking the dogs for a dip in Roosevelt Lake. A few hours later, we brought our dinner down to the water’s edge to watch night quietly fall accompanied by the sound of bird calls and crickets. The one particularly memorable moment of our time in the area was when I took the dogs out one morning right after waking up, looked around, and saw a group of men in orange jumpsuits walking towards me with weed whackers. Arizona has a very, very high ratio of public to private land, so I guess they use their basically free and captive public workforce to take care of things!

We took advantage of the rare opportunity to spend time with all four of Nic’s grandparents in Fountain Hills during the last two days. It was good to be with family, and it was odd to not be cooking for ourselves and to use sinks with an unending supply of water.

And more than anything, at the end of a long day in a busy week on the road, we are thanking God for the way He has cared for us and for those we love. Someone we love so very much ended up in the hospital today, and we are so, so grateful that God protected this person from worse harm. Tonight, we can indeed proclaim:

            Great is Thy faithfulness! Great is Thy faithfulness!

            Morning by morning new mercies I see;

            All I have needed Thy hand hath provided –

            Great is Thy faithfulness, Lord, unto me!

It’s tough at times to be a great distance from a hurting loved one. Fortunately, that hurting loved one is in stable condition and surrounded by excellent medical care. And that professional earthly care doesn’t compare one bit to the “strength for today and bright hope for tomorrow” promised to him and to each of us by our heavenly Father.

It was the day Homer almost died. Well, he wanted us to think he was dying.

We explored White Sands National Monument this morning and decided to take the whole family on a 5-mile hike around the blindingly bright dunes. We arrived later than planned and were fortunate to have a bit of a breeze to counter the hot sun. At the heart of the dunes, it’s very difficult to orient yourself. The 275 square miles of dunes stretch seemingly endlessly in all directions, swallowing up any kind of landmark. We carefully followed the orange trail markers up and down and around the dunes. We found a soft breezy solitude shortly after leaving the trailhead, punctuated occasionally by jets flying practice runs from nearby Holloman AFB. After about a mile of obnoxiously strong pulling on his leash, Homer engaged in a very pathetic and very funny canine version of “Stop, drop, and roll.” He stopped dead in his tracks, threw himself dramatically on the sand, and somehow managed to start rolling down a dune while still connected to his harness and leash. We coaxed him to walk a bit farther, gave both pooches plenty of water, and had another good laugh when he added a little sand angel action to his rolling. Homer loves to roll in any kind of ground covering, but he was so enthusiastic about the gypsum that he decided to cover every inch of his face with the stuff. And with his new coat of sandy white eyeliner and lipstick, he insisted on being carried. I’m almost embarrassed (nope – too much of a proud dog owner) to admit that we purchased a special doggy backpack for this very purpose, but we didn’t have it with us on our hike today. Nic fashioned a comfy seat for his highness in his backpack, and we walked on. Homer made a startlingly fast recovery when he saw Luna tearing up the dunes off leash a few short minutes later, and I don’t know where he got the extra energy to sprint after not being able to walk. I doubt he’ll suffer any lasting trauma from today’s exertion, since he is now happily back to acting like a cat and jumping from counter to couch to table to cooler.

Doggy bag

Desert beauty

Just a short distance down the highway, we set up camp (for free!) on BLM land. A huge view of the Organ Mountains fills up our windows on one side. We can roam freely through the desert plants surrounding us. It’s finally warm enough to throw open the windows and enjoy the breeze into the evening. We knew the setting sun would turn the mountains to gold, so we made sure to be soaking up every moment of the sun-kissed hour when it arrived. Shadows deepening, the mountains took on new dimensions. Previously unseen texture emerged. The stony cliffs glowed and then darkened gently with the advancing dusk. We shifted our view west to the twinkling lights of Las Cruces. We are thankful to have no plans and this great view tomorrow.

Love these blooming cacti!

The friendly cows wandering our campground

She’s pretty

Yucca

An afternoon moment, complete with lots of messy details for you to examine

Perfect campsite views!

Luna and I just returned from a few hours of hiking up Dog Canyon just outside of Alamogordo, NM. When I say up, I mean UP. The trail rose over 2,000 feet in 3.5 miles. I earned those sweeping views of White Sands, the Tularosa Basin, and the Organ and San Andreas Mountains. And at last, having weathered the final weeks of winter, I also earned the views of wildflowers beginning to show their colorful blooms. Cacti draw attention to themselves with flaming red flowers and vibrant yellow new growth. Thorny shrubs wear hats of orange. I don’t know the names of the desert flora surrounding me, but I can tell that traveling to southern New Mexico has brought us into spring.

One of our more unusual “campsites” – a gravel clearing on BLM land outside of Carlsbad, NM

We are camped at Oliver Lee Memorial State Park, which sits just outside the entrance to Dog Canyon. The landscape around us is surprisingly lush, the mountains above striated and golden in the splotchy afternoon sunlight. We are reminded of Iceland’s moss-covered mountains, although New Mexico’s mountains don’t have streams of water cascading down their sides. About fifty yards beyond us, away from the slopes, the greenery gives way to brown. Several miles beyond that, we can see the glimmering gypsum of White Sands National Monument, a stark expanse of dunes we are looking forward to seeing tomorrow.

Crazy rock formations

The Big Room in Carlsbad Caverns

Descending into Carlsbad Caverns

And just like the rapid transition from green to brown to white, New Mexico is a state consisting entirely of abrupt contrasts. In the space of 200 miles of driving, our route yesterday took us from the damp and otherworldly rock formations of Carlsbad Caverns, through barren and sandy oil fields complete with blowing tumbleweed, over foothills pocketed with orchards and green fields of grazing cattle, past the scenic alpine town of Cloudcroft (where it snowed on us briefly), and down a steep mountain road with desert views. We passed through towns of every variety: Artesia with its ugly oil and natural gas industry, Mayhill with a gleaming church and very little else, Cloudcroft with its thick evergreens and charming downtown area, and Alamogordo with its heavy barrage of too many bright signs for every fast food chain you can imagine. The weather started warm and dry in the desert, got windy enough to make us grip the wheel tightly while driving, threatened rain, delivered some light snow, and finally left us with a drizzly spring night. We thought we heard thunder several times, but we were actually hearing the rumbling roar of jets flying over from nearby Holloman AFB. We are either mesmerized or dizzied by the huge changes we see and feel on days like yesterday. New Mexico is a potent drug for one addicted to seeing and experiencing new things. We only have about a week here before heading west to Arizona, and I am already feeling sad about leaving this enchanting state.

Weather over the San Andreas Mountains

Our campsite at Oliver Lee Memorial State Park

In an amazing turn of events, I have no catastrophes to report. None. No dog puke, no toilet leaks, no fuel filter malfunctions. We have had smooth sailing for the last few days, and we are thankful to not be seeking out a hardware store today!

The view from our campsite at Navajo Lake State Park

We enjoyed our time at Navajo Lake State Park and left there for Chaco Culture National Historical Park via a very nice laundromat in Bloomfield, NM. Now we have loads of clean underwear. We heard the roads to Chaco would be rough and knew there was a chance the campground was full. But it’s only twenty-one gravelly, rutted, pot-holed, bumpy, uneven, sandy miles in – how bad could it be? I’m sorry – a precious eight of those miles were paved, so that leaves only thirteen miles of hell. We crawled along as slowly as I jog at times, but we made it to an open campsite without once scraping the motorcycle carrier (quite an accomplishment on Nic’s part with our current clearance).

Impressive masonry for being built before 1000 AD

Cliff-top views of Chetro Ketl

Chacoan stairs carved into a cliff wall

Petroglyphs

One of the large plazas in Pueblo Bonito, the largest Chacoan ruin

Beautifully crafted doorways

A brief informational aside: Chaco Canyon is a collection of ruins from Puebloans who lived in the area more than a millennium ago. The settlements in the canyon most likely served as a ceremonial, administrative, and economic center for a conglomeration of people groups. Most modern-day Puebloan New Mexicans are descendants of people who lived in Chaco Canyon. So the place has an air of significance, even for those of us too impatient to read all the informational plaques. We marveled at the petroglyphs and tidy masonry of the ruins, and the size and scope of the larger ruins was particularly impressive from the cliff-top overlooks accessible from our long hike.

Pueblo Bonito overlook – the largest ruin in Chaco Canyon

Nic patiently and skillfully made the long, rough drive out of Chaco Canyon this morning, and we are spending the night free of cost at Angel Peak Scenic Area. Staying free tonight brings our 7-night average cost of camping to $6.14, a figure I am quite proud of. We could be trying even harder to stay places for free; after all, we haven’t tried a Walmart parking lot yet. Even so, we are keeping costs low in at least one category, and we’ll count that a success. The Angel Peak campground is nearly empty, and we have expansive views of miles of colorful badlands below us. My eyes can’t quite comprehend the height and depth of this area. With so many layers of canyons and cliffs, it is difficult to take it all in. We watched a lightning storm roll through just west of us and even got to a lower point at the campground for a little while to avoid playing lightning rod for the whole area. We are in for some rain tonight, and we are happy to be dry and cozy in our little house.

So happy she’s not puking today!

Badlands at Angel Peak Scenic Area

Luna showing off the view from our campsite

We have the generator on as I type, since I’m baking in the Instant Pot. I found a delicious recipe for personal-sized Molten Chocolate Lava Cakes. Actually, the recipe said they were “Better Than Sex Molten Chocolate Lava Cakes,” but we don’t comment on things like that on this blog. I am baking one little cake now. Fifteen minutes from now we will be snuggled under a down blanket with the dogs, listening to the rain, and filling our plastic spoons with a delightful confection of drippy, melty, yummy, sweet chocolate cake.

I think it’s time to give you some background information on our dogs, just in case you don’t know them personally. They are, after all, our children.

His new favorite spot to hang.

Dirty dog

Watchdogging

The youngest Hendrychs family member is a Chihuahua-dachshund mix (or chiweenie) named Homer, after the poet. He’s five years old, and we got him from a shelter in Union Grove, WI. We refer to him as our cat, since he has many cat-like habits: perching on tables and counters, basking in the sunshine, batting things out of his way. He loves his creature comforts and burrows his way under every single blanket and sweatshirt. He has sharp eyes and a shrill bark, so he’s the family watchdog. He thinks he’s about 100 pounds heavier than his 14-pound frame, but he’s actually the most pathetic creature most of the time. On this trip, his most endearing/annoying habit is to insist on being in someone’s lap every single moment that we are driving. He’s not picky about whose lap he hogs, so he will spring for the driver or passenger at any given moment. It falls to the passenger to keep him out of the driver’s way. Another “endearing” habit of his is to roll in dirt or sand with great enthusiasm. He loves to find the dustiest powder and get every inch of his little body covered. He’s dumb enough to sit on cacti and get into the trash as we are watching. He barks at children without exception, most likely because a mean little boy was part of the family who fostered him. He cowers and hides when we raise our voices in anger or as a joke; we can’t get him to understand contextual clues and tell the difference between the two. He has a beautifully messed up underbite that perfectly complements his perpetual look of guilt. He’s our silly little boy.

Planning her assault on the RV carpet later that evening

Time for a pedicure

Campsite shenanigans

And Luna…the firstborn. She is my first dog, and I will never love another animal quite as much as I love her. She is a neurotic, beautiful, graceful, strong Weimaraner. She’s six now, and middle age suits her well. We considered her a puppy until about a year ago. Weims are notoriously energetic and needy, and our velcro gray ghost needs to cover lots many miles before she can relax. She’s at her best when she’s running off leash, exploring fields and forests for the most disgusting and smelly treasures she can find. She’s a flash of silver velvet in the sun, big ears flopping unashamedly. Luna is a lapdog just like Homer and will try to either steal a lap from him or “share” the lap by sitting on him. She’s on my lap now as I write, her head resting heavily and warmly on my right forearm. She is clever enough to stay out of the trash until we are out of sight, and she’s the main reason we had to keep our fireplace closed and put the covered trashcan behind a closed door. She smells like heaven when she’s sleeping, and stroking her ears is a potent relaxing medicine. She moonlights as a psychiatrist, and her loving eyes are always sympathetic and kind. You can trust her with your secrets, and she is ever-present when you need a hug. She could use some glasses and gets nervous around generators and fans. She will eat literally anything. Anything. Some of her favorite snacks over the years have been sticks (the sharper the better), any type of excrement (especially goose poop), library books and DVDs, expensive sunglasses (only polarized ones), chocolate cheesecake, chocolate chip pumpkin bread, Homer’s breakfast for three months, dead fish, dead rabbits, dead deer, dead anything. And this brings me to our latest RV mess.

Lazy dogs

We had a fabulous and free two nights camping off a forest road next to the Rio Chama outside of Abiquiu, NM. We were far from civilization, and the setting was stunning with colorful red, orange, and yellow cliffs rising up on each side of the valley. The milky green river whispered its way by outside our windows. We wore ourselves out riding through miles and miles of curvy dirt roads and hiking to Chimney Rock. At the end of a perfectly exhausting day, Luna’s eating habits got the best of her just as we were showering up and getting ready to make a hard-earned dinner. With barely any warning, she dropped her entire dinner on the carpeted RV floor – good thing we were already planning to rent another Rug Doctor. We put her outside for a few minutes, and she seemed fine. After using most of our rags and patience and all of our stain remover, we let her back in. When she showed signs of being sick again, I put her outside for a few minutes without result. The minute I let her back inside, she generously offered more of her stomach contents to the RV floor. Don’t worry – we were out of stain remover but still had plenty of carpet cleaner. She was sick most of the evening. The silver lining was that we ate dinner in camp chairs under the Milky Way by the river. She’s not at all embarrassed that we call her Luna the Puking Dog. She would eat whatever made her sick again in a heartbeat, because the more harmful, the more delectable.

Our remote campsite by the Rio Chama – can you find the RV?

Technicolor skies

Chimney Rock hike

Colorful rocky cliffs

Pancakes!

Spence Hot Springs with its rocky “sauna”

We crossed the Continental Divide yesterday and are staying at Navajo Lake State Park. We’re sacrificing privacy and a remote location for unlimited electricity, water, and really good cell service. We have a great view of the lake and marina from our campsite. We’re almost out of clean underwear, so we’ll take advantage of the crummy weather forecast tomorrow to find a laundromat and that Rug Doctor. We started our morning with whole wheat chocolate chip pancakes and strong coffee. Life is good!

The sun-kissed hour at Navajo Lake