It's A Hard Rain's Gonna Fall

When Kerri and I were at the spa yesterday afternoon and at dinner last night, it rained on and off, sometimes so hard it was near impossible to see when driving. And when we returned home last night after dinner, the large awning on the curb side of the Airstream (the side where the door is) had been ripped down by the thunderstorms, and one of the struts that supports the awning had been snapped in two. It was almost 9pm when we made this discovery, and it was dark and raining hard. We couldn’t even get in the door, since the awning had fallen in front of it, effectively locking us out in the rain. With some struggling and maneuvering, I was able to get the door open enough for us to squeeze inside out of the rain, but not before my arm had been slapped hard a couple of times by the broken strut, powered by the spring that makes the awning retract (when it hasn’t been broken by a storm).

I slept fitfully last night, occasionally waking and pondering how to get the awning fixed, since it had the potential of being a catch-22: we couldn’t tow the Airstream to a shop to get the awning strut repaired if we couldn’t retract it; and it needed to be repaired so that it would retract properly to be able to be towed.
Luckily, it wasn’t as bad as I had feared, when the morning sun shed some light on the situation. With some strategizing, grunting, groaning, straining, moaning, and tugging, we were able to actually get the awning retracted and secured. Now we can proceed at will down the highway again, and we’ll get it fixed when we return to Dallas. We’ll just do without that awning for the duration of the trip, and I’m very relieved we didn’t get a huge damper laid on our trip.

Might you have guessed that there would be duct tape involved in the temporary fix? Holds the world together, is what I hear.

Maybe even the universe.

Day 7: Santa Fe

So we're on day 7 of a planned 21-day trip. First stop was Lubbock, and now we’ve been in Santa Fe for several days. If all goes according to plan, we’ll be here through Sunday morning, make a one-night stop in Flagstaff on the way to Vegas, where we’ll be for four nights, then to the Grand Canyon for a couple of nights, followed by another overnight stop in Flagstaff, then back to Santa Fe / Albuquerque for a couple of nights, then an overnight stop in Amarillo, then back home.

I really like the RV park here, Rancheros de Santa Fe, because we have lots of trees, excellent privacy, and a hiking path circling the park that is an excellent place to walk Sadie. The downside of the park is that their wireless network at our spot is dicey, so I’ve been less disciplined about blogging.

Yesterday we did a tour up at Ghost Ranch, the location in northern New Mexico where Georgia O’Keefe lived and painted for many years. The guide was knowledgeable and passionate about her subject, and did a fine job. The scenery in the area is stunning, a landscape so fascinating that driving safely becomes a challenge, because the vistas are so distracting. The mountains and hills rise up in a variety of shapes, heights, colors, and layers – it’s easy to see why she chose to eventually move from Manhattan and spend most of her life painting in this area.

Our four-legged traveling companion Sadie Mae is boarding for a couple of nights while we spend long days away from the campsite. I decided that she would be more comfortable and cared for in a kennel than spending all day alone in Streamy. The place where she’s staying is constructed such that she has an indoor space, and a door to a small fenced outdoor space where she can go any time she chooses, until they close the dogs in for the night.

Today we are going to Ten Thousand Waves, a spa, where we’ll have a soak in a hot tub, followed by massages. It’s a tough life, but someone has to do it.

Just Lots Of Rain

This morning in Lubbock dawned cool and pleasant, but you wouldn't have guessed that would be the case last night. The pickup had rain drops on it when we exited Caprock Cafe after dinner, and the rain picked up a little as drove back to the RV park. It picked up even more later after we went to bed. In an Airstream, it seems like you can hear every drop that hits the roof, especially when the rain comes down hard while you're lying in bed in the dark.

It made me think of May, 1970, and the tornado that devastated Lubbock that night. My college roomie Gaines Baty and I were getting ready for dates in the dorm room, when we noticed the rain going past the big window on the end of the room was raining sideways. Not down. Not across. This concerned us somewhat, and along with the green sky, made us think we might not have dates after all. Not long after that, there was a warning via the P.A. system to get to the basement quickly, as a tornado was imminent. There weren't many of us huddled there, because school had been out for several days, and we were only there because we had to stay for a Phi Delta Theta initiation. You may have heard that a tornado passing by sounds like a freight train roaring past; that's close to accurate, but I'd say it sounds more like three or four freight trains thundering by simoultaneously. It was beyond loud in that basement, even though the tornado didn't even touch our building. We were very fortunate, because we incurred no injuries, but many in the city were not so lucky; the tornado killed 24, and did millions in damages, blowing away all buildings for many blocks, and heavily damaging numerous others.

But last night, it was just lots of rain. Technology can be so reassuring. We hadn't hooked up the cable to the Airstream last night, so we had no TV. Instead, I just picked up my iPhone, loaded the Weather Channel app, and saw that there were no severe weather warnings of any kind for Lubbock, just rain.

So I went to sleep to the sound of rain on the roof, inhaling the sweet scent of the breeze streaming through the open windows.