Unbroken Horizon Lines

After repairing the breakdown with a new ignition control module, I stop at Safeway and load up on food to last a few days.

All I want is to be out on the desert to reset my work-life balance. Somehow my personal goals and objectives have fallen off the bus, and I need to find them again. Primarily, I want to get back into consistent Bible reading and exercising. The spiritual woman inside me feels starved, and my physical self feels overfed. Time for a reset and a rebalance.

Second to those things is a kickstart on one of my big writing projects. At this rate, I won't have anything to publish this year. I need to set some real goals. I've got four very serious projects and one dream writing project. Each of these is in development or already written.

So, I spent a few days on the desert down near Bouse, Arizona.

Why don't you go to Quartzite? That's what my friends want to know.

Probably because I can't really stand Quartzite. Too many people. Too many rigs polluting the natural landscape. I want naturally unbroken lines of sandy horizon with only the wind to whisper in my ear.

So I find an isolated spot near Bouse and start the work of resetting my life.

On Friday, while working my remote job, I get to thinking about how hungry I feel. Like...my stomach is seriously grumbling. With no snack food in the RV, I've been eating consistent, rationally sized meals, ones that keep me sustained but not overfed. I like feeling that balance. I read an article once that as Americans, we rarely feel our stomachs grumble. I think it's a good thing to feel that every now and again. It's a good digestive reset. But...dang! Now I'm really hungry!

While working, I think about how much I'd really like a steak. And potatoes. Mashed potatoes...or maybe a baked sweet potato. And a Texas Roadhouse salad. There's an early-dinner special they offer throughout the week--a steak dinner for around $15! It comes with two sides. If I order a water, I can get out of there for around $20.

So, I look at the map on my phone to see where the nearest Texas Roadhouse might be.

Yuma.

I'm not planning on being in Yuma until next Tuesday. My plan is to camp overnight in the lot near the border. Then, on Wednesday, Brenda, Frank, and I have plans to cross the border. If I go to Yuma now, I'll have to find a different place to park for a few days...a free lot. Don had been talking about some parking space down near Yuma but out on the desert, so I send him a quick text, jump out of my desk chair, and start locking things down for a two-hour drive south.

As I drive, I realize that I won't be able to go to Mexico on Wednesday. It's an interview day. Me....giving...interviews. For the first time in my life, I have full license to hire whoever I want for several positions. In past jobs, I've had input on new hires, but not unfettered freedom. So, I've been taking this very seriously. I don't want to reschedule my Wednesday interviews to go to Mexico. Further...when would I reschedule them? I've been very busy with this job in other capacities. I've seriously got no time to reschedule.

On the way to Yuma, I call Brenda. "Hey...I can't go to Mexico."

She understands. Frank will go with her.

At a stop light, I check my maps app for directions to the Texas Roadhouse and see a return text from Don. The desert parking space is in California, just over the border.

California? I don't want to go there. The place scares me. Besides...I'm boycotting the state until their government gets some common sense.

After my mid-afternoon steak dinner, I head east toward Gila Bend. At dusk, I pull over and put my five little triangle flashing lights in the back bedroom window.

Slow

Moving

Vehicle

That's what I am.

I travel Godspeed.

This is as fast as the good Lord wants me to travel.

The speeding semis push past by me in the darkness. I can feel the volume of air backing up against their windshields as they pass, the shudder of my motorhome a reaction to the sudden change in interstate wind currents.

Despite running the engine around 50 m.p.h., the engine maintains a consistent temperature. Maybe the new engine control module made a difference and is regulating the engine functions better now.

I stop for the night in a wide dusty truck lot across from a small gas station somewhere between Yuma and Phoenix on Interstate 8. I pull into the lot and notice two semis parked along the back edge of the lot near the scrubby bushes. A third semi parks perpendicular to the road. He'll be able to pull straight out and hit the road first thing in the morning. Mimicking the angle of that semi, I also park perpendicular to the road, but at the southern edge of the lot.

I spend no time getting into my jammies and calling it a night.

Buena scratches at the side door. She wants to go outside. I hurry to get dressed. I look to the eastern sky as I walk her near some creosote bushes. The eastern horizon is a low, dusky blue. I don't know whether to go back to sleep or get back on the road. By my calculations, I've already slept about six hours. What's the chance I'll actually get back to sleep after getting dressed and standing out in this cold, still night with Buena sniffing at the end of the leash?

By the time we get to Gila Bend, the eastern horizon is awash in dim yellow and orange light. I head into the Love's truck stop for a shower. By my calculations, it's been five days since a proper shower. It is time.

The world is in a strange place prior to Inauguration Day. Right now, we've still got an open border. Will there be a mad rush to cross the border before Trump takes office? Am I safe this close to the border?

I've got an appointment in Phoenix on Monday, but I don't really want to stay here. All I want to do is go back to Bouse, park on the desert, and get back to balancing my life.

So, on the western edge of Phoenix, I stock up on a few more grocery items at Aldi's (!) and Fry's (i.e. Kroger). Aldi's is the place to go for low prices, organic, and non-GMO food. I like their stores, but Phoenix is the only place in the four-corner states where I know to find Aldi's. The Fry's store is like a little Walmart. It was not like the other Fry's I've seen, so I spend some time shuffling around in there before returning to the Godspeed in the parking lot.

As I drive back toward Bouse--two-ish hours away--I consider how I'll get to my Department of Transportation physical in Phoenix on Monday. Maybe I'll reschedule.

So I get back to the desert, back to rebalancing and restructuring my priorities. This is what people do in January, right? I soooooo need to do this now and stay at it until I get it right.

My other project has been cleaning and organizing cabinets and cupboards. I don't have the storage space in this RV, so every inch of available storage is valuable, making the reorganization like a game of Tetris with irregularly shaped objects.

• On Sunday, I ask Don if he could pick me up in Bouse and take me to Havasu to get my van.

• On Monday, I drive the van into Phoenix to do the Department of Transportation physical. (I passed!)

• On Tuesday, Frank helps me by shuttling my van back to Havasu.

I've got great friends. They are like family to me.

For several more days, I do my remote work and rebalance my life.

Thursday is windy. Extremely windy. For some reason, the wind impacts my internet. Where once I had full bars of internet, I now have a tiny drop of internet. I spend the early morning watching the loading thing on the computer spin around and around and around. I'm not moving forward--and I have interviews starting in 40 minutes!

Impulsively, I pack up the motorhome.

Parker will have internet. I load up a map to Parker. I know the way, but I want to watch the clock that gives the ETA on the app. My ETA is 9:56 a.m., exactly three minutes before the first interview.

Racing against the clock, I move as fast as old engines will allow while facing a headwind. I watch the clock tick up to an ETA of 9:57. I've lost a minute.

At the Parker Fairgrounds, I pull off the road. I can't make it into town before I have to be on the phone with this applicant. A cell tower stands tall and is in view. I can finish my work here and put Buena out on a lead if she needs to be outside. It's easier to put her on her lead in the desert than in a Walmart lot.

For the next three hours, I work while parked along the side of the road.

I'm ready to head back to Havasu.