“And, in the end
The love you take
is equal to the love you make.”
Thanksgiving last was poles apart from this and previous holidays for Bobbie and your's truly. You might recall that last year we joined 43.4 million Americans to brave winter highways, overcrowded airports, and nuts-to-butts airplanes—left Goldie behind—drove to Lost Wages, Neveda, and caught an early bird oversold flight to Philly P. A. This, to eat, drink, and make merry with members of our far flung families.
It was the best of times, it was the worst of Times, the latter being Times Square, as I spent a memorable Black Friday hobnobbing smack dab in the middle of a zillion New York City shoppers hell bent on saving a buck. My love hath no bounds, apparently. Though I adore the memory, I don't feel the need to repeat :)).
Previous Thanksgivings, most of them anyway, and this one today, have been/will be spent a few minutes from Zion National Park. Here we will feast with fellow nomadic types at an RV park spread that puts the Lord's Last Supper to shame. I will miss the fellowship and imbibing with loved ones this year. But I won't miss Vegas, paying a small fortune to fly Lowest Class, nor the all-or-nothing five-lane insanity of Interstate 95. Like John Melloncamp, I guess I'm just a small town kind of guy nowadays. Lovely Ouray, Colorado, has nary a stoplight, nor does Virgin, Utah, our current homestead. If and when they get one, it'll be time to move on.
It's hard to believe Bobbie and I are still enthralled with what for most people is a fad. We have been full time and part time RVing off and on going back to when I was a young 49 year old wannabe newbie. Coast to coast, border to border, we've been there and done that. We have learned where our hearts are most content, and now circle our wagons with like-minded people here in southwest Utah during fall's, and then off to my childhood stomping grounds in southern Aridzona during wintertimes.
We will store Goldie down the road and head home in a few days, then spend a white Christmas in Lovely Ouray. Several feet of snow await our tracks up on Red Mountain. It will be an invigorating change of pace (shiver). I will be sorely ready for some fun in the sun come January. We'll see some of you down there in the desert, I'm sure...resume some hikes and bike rides and walkabouts in the lush Sonoran vegetation.
Below are photos of the gang's hike along the Santa Clara Canyon rim…a place once called home to Indians who hunted, gathered, and farmed out an existence in this beautiful but sometimes inhospitable land.
Peace out everyone,
Mark and Bobbie