Day Three: Sewage Dumping, Do It Yourself Physical Therapy, and Reflection Circles
We are missing part of the whatchamacallit which hooks thesewage line to the ground. Several visits to YouTube confirm this. I textedthis concern to our Irish homebase in Vegas, along with all of the othermishaps we’ve discovered and don’t want to be charged for. Including: The latch on the shelf above themicrowave being broken, which turned a hard left into a coffee cup missilelauncher. Thankfully Petey has ninja ducking skills and I’ve cleaned up a hardynumber of broken wine glasses in my day. The suspicious hole in the ceilingthat clearly used to be a light. The screens that are only one quarter of theway attached to the windows. The storage areas that don’t actually lock. Thebedroom drawers that have never closed. The lone wall mount that is obviouslyhome to a missing TV.
You know the cartoons where Bugs Bunny would be driving the jalopy and parts would fly off one at a time until he was just jogging on the road holding a steering wheel? It’s a lot like that.
The sewage line remains our most pressing issue. Zackdecreed that we are public bathrooms only from here on out, unless someone isabout to die. Ever one to put his money where his mouth is, he marched off tothe campground bathroom before we left from Prescott this morning.
He came back unnervingly excited.
“I just met a guy in the bathroom…” he began.
***Sidebar nation: Ifyou ever want to get my full and undivided attention, begin with the phrase “Ijust met a guy in the bathroom.” Never once has a story that started with thisbeen disappointing.
Except apparently this guy that Zack met is on his third RVbecause he keeps upsizing, spends most of the year traveling the country withhis wife and dogs, and will pick up the grandkids two at a time to take them onthe road exploring. In just ten minutes, this stranger completely sealed myfate.
“So start taking notice of some of these models so we canlook them up later, ok?” He bounced excitedly in the driver’s seat as the kidsslapped at each other in the back and we headed to downtown Prescott.
Prescott is actually the greatest place on Earth. It’s whereI want to retire, with miles of trails and outdoor space and an idyllicdowntown featuring rows of shops and restaurants and an honest to goodness townsquare. The city is apparently run by Leslie Knope, because every two daysthere is a festival or concert or some other small town novelty that the localsnever fail to turn out for. Evan limpedalong behind as the rest of us explored antique shops.
Starting cross country practice gave Evan the opportunity togo from zero miles a day to up to eight miles for four days a week. Since weleft in the RV he’s been complaining that the bottom of his foot hurts,something I’m familiar with from every time I’ve ever suddenly jacked up mymileage running. I’ve started an aggressive treatment plan with him, whichincludes alternating yelling “you’re fine” at him with scolding him for notpacking more supportive shoes for the trip (you knew we were hiking.) To reallyamp it up, I give him some ibuprofen every 26-32 hours and also repeatedlypromise to tape his foot but never actually do it. Zack is doing his part byrepeating the phrase “collapsed arches” thirty thousand times. He should begood as new before we know it.
We headed up to Sedona with the kids passed out in theback. Zack and I had the chance torevisit our most major issue “How did you make it this far in life withoutbeing able to read a map? How did natural selection not take care of this atsome point?” We also had the added bonus of being able to look up potential RVsand argue about which size or amenities we would need.
We were both speechless as Sedona came into view. I’vereally never seen a place so beautiful. I love the desert and I love the forestand to see thick green trees against a background of bright red rock ismagical.
And magical is a good word for Sedona. Its hippie reputation precedes it and just the drive through the Village of Oak Creek proved it all to be true. Chakra healers, energy adjustments, psychic readings, and reiki practitioners were as far as the eye could see. Even our RV park is peppered with Reflection Circles. Never have I been in a place where I’ve been so confident that my homemade deodorant and belief that ceiling fans cause ear infections would be so well received.
We checked in to the campground, which is also spotless andnestled in a forest. The lady at the desk encouraged us to check out the creekjust behind the campsite, which she said is perfect for swimming. Shepronounced it “crick” which added to the charm.
After we set up camp, we headed to the public restrooms(again with the sewer line) and meandered over toward the creek. People in thispark are not as friendly as other places, maybe because it is mostly long termrenters. Or maybe because my kids yelled “Don’t play with that! You’ll get bitby rattlesnakes!” at the little boy and his dad playing with a frisbee.
If you can predict it, you can prevent it.
We also passed the “adults only” portion of the park, whichI fully intend to spy on later tonight. I promise to report back. When we gotthe the creek, I realized why she called it a “crick”. Because it was indeed a “crick”.Round bellied men and swarms of children floated on tubes drinking things fromcans. It is the crickiest crick to ever crick.
Still, it was beautiful and Zack, Petey, and I had a greattime wading in the cool water, even if Zack did reference the leech scene fromStand By Me no less than three times. Consumed with teenage angst, or maybeyesterday’s ibuprofen wearing off, Evan perched on a rock on the side.
Tonight is burgers on the grill to make up for forcing themto eat salmon last night. Tomorrow we hit the engery vortexes and get ourchakra blocks cleared.
Cheers!
Number of dogs pet so far: 7 and 1 desert tortoise