Awoke this morning at 5:15 to a bright sunny sky and the music of morning doves and twittering others and the rustle of leaves. Since it was sunday and I had not found a church while going thru town last night, I decided to get out my banjo and sing a few of the hymns from my church in Corvallis. My fingers are so dry and cracked, i wasn't sure if I could apply any pressure to the banjo strings. Oh Susannah! Even if I could, it's been half a year since I held a banjo on my knee. It went better than I thought. I especially enjoyed Amazing Grace, one of my all time favorites. Luckily, most of the neighbors are gone (the RV place is strictly a snowbird neighborhood).
Afterwards, Jubie and I walked the endless, faceless grid that defines Yuma, then returned and loaded up the bike. We rode for an hour over land as flat and dry as the back of my hands. The desert floor, leading up to the surrounding mountains is truly beautiful in it's austerity. plenty of sage (I think), Acacia trees (I also think), and other yellow-flowering bushes. Very pretty. This natural landscape has been largely plowed over and paved to make settlement grids and a golf course. I longed all day to see some water and a shade tree. As the day progressed, it got much hotter and quite windy. I always feel restless and edgy with so much wind, and I could not find respite from the glaring, hot sun. I tried to put up my portable canopy and had a WHOLE LOT OF TROUBLE! I worked and strained against the metal and the wind, and again, I was reduced to tears. I couldn't keep the hair out of my eyes, the bugs out of my face, my spirits out of the toilet. At last, after one last big breath and all my resolve, I got it up! It provided a little shade to read a book under. but the wind was relentless and the bugs stronger than the wind. either that or they were just using my face as a crash-landing site. At about 5 I gave up and packed up my Motherload, dumped the holding tanks, refilled the freshwater tank, removed any visible sign that we were there, and hit the road. I made it about 35 miles when i saw this lovely NEW motel off the I-8 interstate. I abruptly left the freeway and checked myself in for a night of comfort, space, cleanliness and TV. I also splurged and walked over to Jack in the Box for a burger, fries and chocolate milkshake. My pants have become so alarmingly baggy, I figure a couple thousand calories will do me good. I walked up to the drivethru window, where a border patrolman was waiting in his car for his order. I asked the worker at the window if I could just place my order there rather than go inside. I told him I didn't have a car and that I had my little dog with me and couldn't walk into the restaurant with her. He said no, you have to go inside. As I pondered whether Jubilee would tolerate being tied up outsisde for a few minutes in a strange place, the border patrolman looked very sympathetically at me and said, "I sure wish I could help you, Mam." I realized then that I looked so disheveled by the wind, with gritty grime all over me, my pants floating around me in the wind, and a little dog on a leash--no car. I looked just like a hapless vagabond! He must have been perplexed when I chuckled my "thankyou anyway". I figured it was too long of a story for a fast food drive-through.
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