Part 15: The Midwest and the long trip home

After I dropped Jen off in Minneapolis, I planned to see Paisley Park, the home and music studio of The Artist formerly known as Prince. Unfortunately, unlike the lame Graceland, they don’t just let anybody inside, and I decided that the $65 entry fee would be better spent on gas to keep the party going.

That night I camped at a beautiful berry farm in mid-Minnesota – no mean feat considering pretty much everything around here is a soybean or corn field. Minnesota kind of smells like poo most of the time, if I’m honest – if it’s not a field, it’s a fertilizer plant or a dairy farm full of cows. I really lucked out finding the one place in the state that wasn’t a giant cow pattie.

It was a lovely little Harvest Host where they grew ariona “super” berrries, which I got to sample in some lovely gluten free bars, and I bought a couple of bags of frozen berries to take with me for smoothies.

The next day I crossed the Mississippi River into Wisconsin; which reminds me a lot of Tennessee in many ways.

There are a lot of trees, lots of greenery, lots of farms and food. Like, they loooove their food here.

They love cheese and dairy. They love ice cream and beer.

They love their fish fries and their mustard on their brats and oh my god did I mention the cheese.

They’re cheese people.

They *get* me.

I stayed in Madison for several days, at a Harvest Host for one night, and with Jessica, an old friend from high school for a couple more. I basically ate the entire time. Tons of cheese, tons of fish, lots of beer. And it was really amazing to see my old friend after such a long time.

In fact, I got two-for-one on the old high school friends deal. My other high school buddy Kristen, who works for Google in San Jose, took Dolly for a test drive back in May when I stopped to see her. Kristen and her husband had already been considering taking their four kids on a road trip, and meeting Dolly clinched it for them … a month later they purchased their own RV and were on the road, doing an epic (albeit shorter than mine) road trip with their kids during the summer.

They happened to be driving through Madison at the same time I was at Jessica’s, so they stopped by for a few selfies of Dolly and Blanche (their RV) together!

Next, I went to southern Wisconsin, to an adorable little town on the banks of the Mississippi called Potosi. I spent one night at a Harvest Host, the Potosi Brewing Company, which has a fantastic brewpub (try the mac and cheese) …

… as well as a cool brewing museum. I told ya, they are all about the beer and cheese around Wisconsin.

For the next two nights, I was camping at the Grant River campground, just across the Mississippi from Iowa.

It was a little humid in Wisconsin in the summer (the weather is a lot like Tennessee IMO), so I was glad to have the air conditioner running for a couple of days.

While I was there. I also drove through a town called Dickeyville, which has this incredible grotto outside of the local Catholic church.

A parish priest built this amazing work of art – it must have taken decades – out of millions of rocks, shells, charms, antiques, pottery, gems, and various other items.

It’s really spectacular.

I also spent a couple of days around the Chicago area – I stayed at two different breweries that are Harvest Hosts, and another two nights at a Boondockers Welcome spot. The weather was great and I ate a ton. One of the breweries was Riverlands, where I stayed on a previous trip through Chicagoland. They have an impeccable IPA (several, actually) and I also got a fabulous Lou Malnati’s deep-dish Chicago style pizza.

The second Harvest Host brewery was a lot of fun… Rabid Brewing is just on the outskirts of Chicago, and their IPAs and hazy ales are delicious.

I spent a lovely evening with the brewmistress Raiye, who told me about the amazing beer they make, and who schooled me in how to hula hoop. I was a little tipsy, and I hadn’t used a hula hoop in years – and hula hoops are a little bit random for a brewery manager’s side hobby – but it was a ton of unexpected fun! (Check my Instagram videos for more on my hula hooping progress.)

Before I left Chicagoland – which is basically all of northern Illinois – I got to meet up with another friend from college, which was fantastic. We had a great soul food lunch in Chicago, and then I got to relax for a couple of days.

Of course, I still kept stuffing my face. Shuntae recommended that I try a slice of chocolate cake and a hot Italian beef sandwich (“wet” and with sweet peppers) from Portillo’s.

That was pretty incredible.

I was on my way to Fort Wayne Indiana, to hang out with yet another high school buddy I haven’t seen in years, I stopped at the Indiana Dunes state and national park right in northern Indiana.

It was a pretty nice beach, for not actually being at the ocean. And I checked one more national park off of my list!

Then I spent two nights in Fort Wayne, and my friend Jeannie took me all around to see the sights.

They have a lovely park and downtown area near the river and a historical fort, and we had a great time seeing the sights and eating a bunch.

I basically ate like crazy everywhere I went in the Midwest.

Then I had to head back north to Michigan for my friend’s wedding. I stayed at a few more cool Harvest Hosts on the way – first, a cool bison farm in Indiana. Eel River Bison Ranch was a lovely and peaceful stay, and I left with several packs of delicious bison meat.

… then the RV and Motorhome Hall of Fame and Museum in Elkhart.

This place was a lot of fun.

I had no idea about how they used to make and use RVs back in the day, but it was really cool to see all the amazing antique motorhomes.

Mia is a dear friend of mine from college, She and I were roommates senior year, and we worked together on the newspaper staff for four years. She has had to reschedule her wedding several times due to Covid. This time, with the Delta variant causing all kinds of problems nationwide, they rescheduled the wedding again, but then asked for everyone to be masked and to take a home test before attending. I also got my third Covid vaccine (my doctor recommended it due to my compromised immune system) just to have a little extra protection.

The wedding was super fun – I got to dance, eat delicious catered food, have a few drinks with old friends from college …

… and watch my good friend get married. It was a long trip to get all the way to Michigan, but I am so glad I did it. It was all worth it.

While I was in Lansing, I stayed at a Boondockers Welcome host that was really amazing – they let me shower and do laundry and use their water and power, so I could get ready and enjoy my time with my friends after the wedding was over.

After the wedding, my goal was to get home to San Diego as soon as possible.

I was tired of driving, and of the fires, and the heat, and I craved the smell of the Pacific Ocean and a taco in San Diego. I wanted to see my brother, my friends, and maybe park for a few days in a peaceful place without crazy weather.

It was going to be a long drive, and my plan was to drive as much as I could and then stop at truck stops or big box stores instead of Harvest Hosts or campgrounds. Truck stops are great when you don’t want any fuss. I knew that this way, I wouldn’t have to reserve anything ahead of time, and there would be showers, gas, propane, dump stations, food, and a safe place to sleep. Plus they are all right off if the freeway and open 24 hours, with security and people around all of the time.

I figured this would me back to the beach in record time. I made it a few days from Michigan, through Missouri, without incident.

However, Dolly had other plans. She was not appreciative of my plan to cross seven states in as many days, stopping only to sleep. She decided to show me this attitude when we were in Kansas.

It was really hot. Hot for anywhere, but really hot for Kansas – 100 to 102 at the hottest. I had been driving straight west on the 70 after going south to Indianapolis from Michigan.

That morning I had been in Missouri, and I really wanted to make it to Colorado before I slept.

It was an hour before sunset; 120 miles to the Colorado border, and 102 degrees outside.

Dolly gave up.

I managed to make it off of the freeway because I was right next to a freeway exit. The engine died in the same way it had when I was in Montana, so I suspected that there might be more rodent damage and/or damaged wiring. Last time it was a spark plug wire, so maybe it was a spark plug. I prayed it was something minor because I couldn’t afford a big repair job.

Inexplicably, after a very long and very hot and uncomfortable night in a Kansas truck stop, the engine started and didn’t die again. At this point, I was feeling kind of uncharitable towards Kansas.

But it got better. I called a mobile mechanic; who was super busy but (luckily) didn’t charge me to stop by and poke round for a few minutes. He said there wasn’t any rodent damage to spark plug or any other wires that he could see. And the engine was running. So I, figured what the hell and I decided to hit the road again.

I made it to Colorado that day … maybe 35 miles into the state. I only drove a couple of hours, and it wasn’t nearly as hot as it had been the day before. That day was uneventful, so the next morning I continued through Colorado on Interstate 70.

It was beautiful – Colorado is just breathtaking – but I will never take this route again in an RV.

I made it through the Mile-High City just fine, but west of Denver is when the real mountains start. It’s a very gradual climb – Dolly wasn’t complaining at all. Same as always, no overheating, no lights. I was at over 11,000 elevation.

The freeway climbs and climbs and climbs, then, at 11,158 feet, there’s the Eisenhower Tunnel. According to the internet, the length of the tunnel less than two miles, but it feels so long. Really everything feels different when you’re at that kind of altitude.

Remember in my last post, when I talked about how scary it was when the engine died in Montana, right as I was going down a mountain? Well, I need to rephrase, because that one in Montana wasn’t really a mountain. THIS was a mountain. I was nearly out of the tunnel – like, less than 10 yards – when the speed started to drop, despite me pressing the gas. I knew something was up even though the lights hadn’t come on yet.

If you’ve never been through this tunnel, let me paint a picture. As I mentioned, it’s at extreme altitude. It’s a one-way tunnel, two lanes, just like the freeway. Just as you leave the tunnel, there is a brake check area for trucks, because about 100 feet later, there is a steep, steep grade for almost eight miles, straight down a mountain.

If the engine had died when I was in the middle of the tunnel, I’d have been (at the least) rear-ended and stuck in a damn tunnel. If it had died a minute later, I would have been speeding down a mountain at the time, which would have ended up with me probably in one of those runaway truck ramps, in a pile of sand. As it happened, it was at the exact perfect time, and I was able to punch the gas and get Dolly into the brake check area before the engine completely died.

So, a similar refrain in my life the last year or so: It sucked, but it could have been worse in several different ways.

After what had happened in Kansas, I decided to stay there for an hour or so, both to let the engine rest, and to chill out myself (that was a little bit stressful!), and then it was fine. I made it to a slightly lower elevation, planning to camp at a truck stop or something, but there were none to be found. This was in the fancy touristy area of Colorado, with all of the ski lifts and bungalows, so no overnight parking was allowed in any of the gas stations or big box stores.

I was starting to feel a little too stressed. All I wanted was to get home. I was running out of money, I was afraid my engine could die at any moment, and I didn’t have a free place to camp. This was the longest I had been on the road by myself without a long pit stop in San Diego or with family.

I lucked out.

I found a local campground called Heaton Bay. It’s in Frisco, Colorado, right in the middle of the Rockies and the White River National Forest.

It was just spectacular.

As soon as I got here, I felt the stress melt away. It was like someone gave me a happy shot.

I instantly felt better and calmer and … just in general, less agitated about everything.

I figured this was the Universe telling me to take it easy; to stop and enjoy the scenery instead of trying to blast my way through the western states and get home at record speed. For sure, it was Dolly telling me to stop running her so hard through extreme heat and altitude.

I also realized my good friend Stephanie (a former chef at the Joint in OB, one of the best restaurants in town), who moved to Colorado last year, was just an hour or two away from my campsite. She was awesome enough to let me come and hang at her place for a couple of nights while I got my medications from San Diego (which were running out) sent to me there.

Stephanie lives in the super touristy town of Glenwood Springs. It was lovely, but a little weird. It was super crowded with obvious tourists despite the heat. There’s no law enforcement due to their budget issues, and bears literally prowl around at night going through the trash. Its a really strange mix of rural and urban life.

The altitude was still over 8,000 in Glenwood Springs, which was causing some headaches for me after a day or two. I was looking forward to getting back to a normal elevation again, and then as soon as I crossed into Utah, I remembered.

Wildfires. Smog. I was really enjoying the clear blue skies in the Midwest even if it as hot!

The rest of my drive to San Diego was pretty uneventful, mostly because I was taking it easy. Really, really easy. I got up early to do the bulk of the driving before it got too hot; I never drove faster than 65, especially up hills, and I only did a couple hundred miles per day.

I spent two nights driving through Utah, then stayed with friends in Vegas, then to my stepdad’s in San Bernardino. Dolly didn’t have any problems, but the engine still felt kind of sluggish and loud, so one of the first things I did in San Diego (after I got a taco) was to get a new fuel filter. That helped a little, but a couple of weeks later, an oil change and a new air filter did the trick. She’s running just fine, and I feel good about driving.

It always feels good to be home.

I only planned to be in southern California for a short while; to get my tests done, see friends and family, and head east to my sister’s in Houston and then to my mom’s in Tennessee. I was trying to schedule my scans for the week of September 13, but there wasn’t availability to get a bone scan until October 12.

I was disappointed at first, but then I realized that; one, this gives me more time to spend in California, where it’s beautiful, and where I can see my family some more (and my kitty Janis,…

… who is doing very well at my brother’s house); and two, if I don’t leave until mid-October, then that means Dr. Vlad will let me spend more time out east.

So, barring any unforseen circumstances, I will be leaving California the weekend of the 16th, stopping in Albuquerque, and then spending a couple of weeks in Houston with my sister. Then in November I’ll be headed to my moms house for the holidays, then back to San Diego for my usual tests in January.

Are you enjoying this content? Please donate to my trip GoFundMe here: https://gofund.me/b8333d49

Part 5: Back on the road (almost)

I am so excited for this next leg of my adventure!

I plan to leave east Tennessee tomorrow, barring any unforseen circumstances (i.e., weather). I feel pretty confident driving Dolly – after all, she is a petite 22 feet long, super short compared to most RVs – but I don’t want to test my skills by driving on ice and other dangerous conditions if I can help it.

She sure does look pretty in the snow, though.

I had a really awesome Christmas holiday with my family in Tennessee. My sister and her boyfriend were here, and we had a white Christmas, which none of us had seen in a long time.

I got to sled in the snow (check out my Instagram reel), I cooked all of Christmas dinner (check out this awesome buttery braised purple cabbage recipe from the Washington Post. I tried it for the first time and it was a hit!), and I got some great presents.

Check out this kick-ass breakfast station for the RV! It’s got a hot plate on top, a toaster oven, and a tiny coffee pot … and it fits perfectly in my tiny RV kitchen.

How cute are you?!

I also got a cool map for my RV, where I can add a new sticker for every state I visit. I need to fill this baby up!

I also busted out a donut-making kit I had bought a long time ago … I had a lot of fun being in a warm house, baking lots of different kids of donuts instead of freezing outside. It’s been a great couple of weeks, just relaxing at my mom’s.

I really wanted to leave last week, before this winter weather came back, but I had to wait for a prescription to arrive in the mail. I am taking oral chemotherapy pills, so it’s not nearly as bad as it used to be; five years ago this week I was going to what I thought would be my last chemotherapy treatment ever. As I had done five times before, I took a super long commute from my apartment in Ocean Beach to Chula Vista (about 30 miles as the crow flies, but if I didn’t have a ride, it was two buses and a trolley – almost three hours – each way), then for nearly eight hours I was stuck with multiple needles and infused with multiple different medications, including 5-6 chemotherapy drugs.

So, as much of a pain it is to deal with this specialty pharmacy that makes a rare cancer drug, this is way nicer than I had it before.

Plus, I can still travel!

I plan to take it easy the first day or so, visiting some friends in Cookeville and Nashville. Then I want to go back to Louisiana, to my friend’s place near Alexandria, and the sweet RV campsite/state park that my friends and I stayed at last month.

I will most likely continue on to Houston (it’s silly not to when I can see my sister!) and then, I want to see some cool stuff I have never seen before. I heard great things about Palo Duro Canyon state park in West Texas.

Of course, with the pandemic going on, it’s not a good idea to have too many plans that you can’t change. The website for the Palo Duro campsites look like there is a lot of vacancy, but then when I checked RV parks in California, they have warnings that you can’t stay there unless you certify that you’re an essential worker, or that your presence there is otherwise essential … and while this adventure is certainly essential to me, I don’t think the state of California would allow a dying-of-cancer exception to the law.

So the plan is to see friends and family, see a new state park, then head back to California. And I will probably be there for a while. I have a doctor’s appointment on the 29th in San Diego, and a reservation to stay at a cool RV park in Julian (one of those deals where they give you free time at a resort so they can try to sell you more time) the next week, then I want to see my brother in Oxnard, friends in Sacramento and San Francisco, my great-aunt in Santa Cruz, and a few other spots and people.

I also want to see some more state and national parks, and if the weather is good (it can’t be worse than Tennessee), some camping among the redwoods and in the mountains sounds great.

If the weather permits, I want to come back to Tennessee again (in March or early April) by going north – probably through Oregon, Washington state, Idaho and Montana – and then in the late spring and summer, see the east coast. At this point I feel like I have done the drive between California and Tennessee a million times, so I want to try some new routes and see some new things.

I have a few more things to organize and pack today, but I am really excited to get back on the road!

Be sure to follow me on Facebook and Instagram, and if you are so inclined, please support my GoFundMe. All funds go directly to this trip – gas, repairs, and stuff for the RV. See you out there on the road!

Part 3: Dolly’s Maiden Voyage

As I write this, we have been on the road for almost a month, and we have all held up surprisingly well. When I say “we,” I am referring obviously to myself, but also to my friend, Nichelina, who drove to my mom’s house in Tennessee from her home in Philadephia in order to join me on a nationwide road trip of indeterminate length, and her 11-year-old service pitbull named Dego.

We were all good friends before this trip, but it is fair to say that we have learned a lot about each other after traveling together for so long in a 22-foot-long RV.

Dego has been a very good boy, and mostly rests during the day while we’re moving.

At several times in this story, “we” also includes my RV, who I have named Dolly. She also has performed remarkably well for a vehicle built in 1995-1996 and barely driven 50 miles per year. She only stopped working once, and we were able to get that issue fixed (in a way that probably only happens in a sitcom). More on that later.

Of course, we are also traveling during a pandemic, which severely limits the socializing we would normally be doing. Instead of stopping in a strange town and popping down to the local bar or restaurant to meet some people and ask about the fun places to go, we take our food to go, eat it in the RV (she has a nice dining area), and ask the carryout guy or the gas station attendant or the Harvest Hosts host about local places of interest.

Luckily we have an RV that makes us feel safe, at least in terms of Covid protection – no hotels or restaurants necessary. And luckily, we’re good friends.

Our plan was to head generally westward, stopping at cool places along the way, and using Harvest Hosts as much as possible. I’ve explained about HH before, but essentially it is a membership for RV owners; you pay an annual subscription (which is stupid cheap) to be able to park overnight at privately-owned wineries, farms, distilleries, breweries, and other unique places of interest.

You don’t pay the host for parking, but you are expected to purchase something if they are selling (wine at a winery, cheese at a dairy farm, etc.). Most of them are small farms or businesses, many of the owners live on the property as well.

Of course, there are some areas of the country without Harvest Hosts available, so, as RV owners and travelers know, you can also park for free overnight at (almost) any Wal-Mart, Home Depot, Costco, Cracker Barrel, and most Indian casinos and truck stops. Many of these are open 24 hours, but all have 24-hour security.

Anyway, Nichelina arrived at my mom’s house a few days before we left, because we were still fixing it up — a thousand tiny little touches that needed to happen before we got on the road.

Just as an example, we spent an inordinant amount of time fixing the step up into the camper. I wanted the first view you see when you walk in to be a pretty color and something nice, not just the ugly carpet stapled to the wall. We took several days to paint it, prepare the backsplash, and fix the contoured step.

Of course, now that we have been on the road, we have thought of a thousand more things to fix or redo. By the time we get back to Tennessee again, we will have a completely different idea of RV traveling than we did before we started.

The plan was to leave by noon on Halloween. Then it was by 4 p.m.

We finally left my mom’s house at about 8 p.m.

As we went up the hill and out of the driveway, Dolly started to shake and make a wheezing noise between 35 and 45 mph. We had called ahead to a Harvest Host – Bristol Caverns, a privately owned tourist attraction of a cavern tour and museum – and they told us we could come after business hours. It was about an hour from my mom’s; which we did intentionally, in case we forgot something or something else bad happened that first night.

That first night was 26 degrees. That night I learned that the air conditioning unit was not also a heater. That night I learned how to prime the generator and get it to work – and then realized I did not bring a heater. And how did I never notice how loud that generator is? Also the stove pilot light wasn’t working … it felt like it didn’t have gas going to it, but the reader on the tank said it was half full.

We ended up deciding to use the microwave instead of the stove until we can get a propane guy to check it out – somehow there is enough propane to run the refrigerator, which was great, but it was still weird. The weird shaking and wheezing that happened between 35-45 mph was still happening.

Since it was Sunday when we woke up, we weren’t able to visit the Bristol Caverns, so we headed to Mammoth Caves in southern Kentucky.

We called ahead to another Harvest Host — Traveler’s Cellar in Rockfield, Kentucky. They were having a private party that night (like many hosts, they live on the property), but they were kind enough us a quick wine tasting anyway. We got there just in time for sunset, and to buy a bottle of the bubbly red Baco Noir.

It was lovely. I’ve never had a fizzy red wine before but I really loved it.

The next morning we attempted to visit Mammoth Caves, but due to my walker (which I still need occasionally), we weren’t able to get a tour. We had a great time driving around the park and surrounding areas.

We also took a few minutes to walk around the Corvette Museum.

Unfortunately, everything we want to visit is either closed due to the pandemic, or they’re totally changed because of it.

The next night, we stayed at another Harvest Host, a distillery in eastern Kentucky.

Again, we arrived just before dark. Since we were headed west and it’s wintertime, there isn’t a lot of sunlight, and we didn’t want to drive too much at night. Plus, most Harvest Hosts want you to get there before it gets dark.

We had a great time at Casey Jones Distillery, learning about the history of Casey Jones and the moonshine business back in the day.

We sampled a variety of moonshines and bourbons, purchased a few bottles for gifts for some friends, and the next morning, we were on our way to southern Illinois.

Dolly parked at Starview Vineyards.

The area around western Kentucky, southern Illinois and Missouri is really beautiful. In our comparatively short time on the road, we have seen some really beautiful landscapes. Southern Illinois also has a lot of cool wineries in the area around the Shawnee National Forest.

When we got to Illinois, we stayed at Starview Vineyards, probably one of our favorite Harvest Hosts stops.

They had a lovely spot to park, a nice restaurant where we could sample some of their wines and have an early dinner, and the view from our table at their pond was spectacular.

From there, we headed towards St. Louis, to see the Gateway Arch National Park and to stay at another Harvest Host outside of the city limits.

The Gateway Arch actually has a really pretty park and pedestrian walkway around it, as well as a museum and gift shop underground.

We parked downtown and walked all around, admiring the artwork and the lovely park…

… then we had a yummy to-go lunch of Korean food.

As I said, pretty much all of our meals were takeout, and enjoyed at our small dining room table in the RV. I painted some of the walls and used wallpaper on others, but the table and benches were pretty much unaltered.

We also enjoyed our stay at the Point Labaddie Brewery just outside of St. Louis. The night we arrived, they had an (outdoor) trivia night, and there were a few other Harvest Hosts RVers we hung out with (socially distanced, of course).

We had a great time drinking local beer around a nice campfire, making new friends and relaxing.

The next morning we kept west towards Kansas City, driving through the Ozarks and enjoying the scenery. One of our new friends at trivia night had recommended Lone Elk County Park, where we could drive around on a one-way road and see the elk during mating season.

We got to see a lot of wildlife, including beautiful birds and, as promised, lots of elk. We got to drive up and observe a pair of young elk fighting each other.

(I apologize for the grainy photo, I zoomed in a lot. I wasn’t about to get too close to wild and randy and violent elk who are antler-fighting each other during mating season.)

The lake communities around the Ozarks are really cute, and the flat land and lakes were a welcome respite after driving through the smoky mountains and the hills of Kentucky.

Nichelina had taken over driving, and I was chilling in the back; which is actually really fun. You get a better view and a more comfortable chair.

We were comfortably on our way to get BBQ in Kansas City – as comfortable as you can be when your vehicle shakes uncontrollably between 35-45 miles per hour – when the engine died.

Sort of.

It would start, so it wasn’t the battery. It happened suddenly with no warning lights so it wasn’t the catalytic converter. And we were able to restart the engine and move it (slowly) to a side street, before it died again.

I should point out that this tiny town of Eldon, Missouri, was the best possible place where we could have broken down. In the 45 minutes we were waiting on the side of the road for AAA to tow us to the repair shop, no fewer than a dozen people, including an EMT on his way to work and an off-duty police officer, stopped to ask us if we were OK, to offer advice and counsel, and to recommend a repair shop. They all said the same one: U Rench it.

It was around sunset when we broke down, so it was fully dark by the time we got a tow truck, they got the RV on the truck, and we got to the shop. They were about to close, but in the dark, the mechanic could tell that the problem was that — no kidding – mice had chewed through the fuel injector wires. It was an easy fix, but they couldn’t do it until the morning.

Curtis (the mechanic) let us park overnight at the secure repair shop lot, staying in our RV, and then first thing in the morning, he replaced the wires. It took about an hour because, in the daylight, he realized the spark plug wires had also been gnawed.

For a grand total of $72, we got back on the road, the RV actually drove better due to the new spark plug wires and fuel injector wires, and he showed us how to turn on our propane tank. It turned out, the fridge actually wasn’t working, it was just cold. (The food stayed cold in there when we were in Tennessee and Kentucky, but then when it warmed up again, so did our food.)

So it was a winning day all around… especially because Curtis also recommended moth balls in the engine to stop more mice and wildlife from gnawing our engine wires; and he directed us to Ha Ha Tonka State Park, a super cool hidden gem of a state park in the Ozarks.

They have an amazing natural rock bridge, which was dry from a drought, so we could actually climb and walk underneath it.

The state park is also home to an old castle built by a Kansas City business man in the early 1900s, and the ruins of the castle and surrounding views are spectacular.

I started to be really glad that we broke down in Missouri.

Finally we made it to Kansas City, where we had some really good BBQ at Jack Stacks BBQ.

Our Harvest Hosts stop for that night was a cider mill in Louisburg, Kansas, but we got there after dark and didn’t see anything until the sun came up.

And it was so cute! Pretty much by the time they opened at 8 a.m, the place was packed. I was still walking around, looking at everything while still in my PJs, and the people at Loiusburg Cider Mill were already making cider.

It was a Saturday morning, and dozens of families and visitors had arrived, already deep in their hot apple cider and cider donuts. I got some donuts, which were amazing, and some delicious fresh cider and apple cider slushie to wash them down.

Our goal was to get to Colorado before dark (or at least before too late), so I could get some Rick Simpson Oil and other CBD extracts before I started a new chemo drug. I have been on hormonal treatments (the tumors in my bones are actually breast cancer cells, so they are shrinking my tumors by cutting off estrogen), but I was starting a new regimen of oral chemotherapy pills, and I wanted to have some proper CBDs in my system so I could be as healthy as possible before I started.

Anyway, it took forever to get though Kansas, but it sure was better than slogging through that last part of west Texas that lasts forever when you’re trying to get west. (Anyone who has traveled that stretch knows what I mean.) We finally arrived in Colorado, found the nearest Wal-Mart, and stopped for the night.

As soon as we got the RSO, we headed south to New Mexico, where we unfortunately had the craziest part of our trip. It was a Harvest Hosts stop in northern New Mexico, a winery (there is a really great wine scene in New Mexico, their wines are all very unique, but more about that later). I will decline to name and tag them in this post, for reasons which will soon become apparent.

We did what we always did; called ahead to let them know we were coming, and our approximate time of arrival. We arrived just after sunset and before it got (really really) dark. Instantly, we knew this was not a normal HH stop. The place was dark and at the end of a dirt road. There were no markings. There was no sign. There were no lights. It didn’t appear to be a business at all. A man (who we later learned was the husband of the woman we spoke to), let us in the main gate, then locked it behind us.

As I mentioned, my RV is 22 feet long, which is very small for an RV. I cannot fathom how a rig bigger than mine would fit there. I started to wonder why these people were listed as a Harvest Host, and why in the world the reviews of this place – which discussed how the building was built in 1920 and used to be a dance hall – didn’t mention that it barely appeared to be a functioning business.

Nichelina commented (correctly) that it looked worse than the Wal-Mart we had slept at the previous night. I got out of the RV, with my mask on, and the lady told me that I didn’t need to wear one, because “everything is sanitary around here, even the dirt is sanitized.” Needless to say, this was not true — the place (and the people) were quite objectively dirty. But we were there, we were locked in. We had told them we were staying, I felt at that point it would have been more awkward to just turn around and leave.

We go inside to see their operation (the site boasts tasting flights and tours of their facility), and discover that this old 1920-era building, which looks like it hasn’t been cleaned since it was a Prohibition-era dance hall, is a (mostly) one-room building. You have to walk through a dirty motorcycle garage to enter. There is no winery or tasting room, and our host informs us that because of some legal snafu with the Catholic Church owning property within a certain distance, they are not allowed to operate it as a winery or as a tasting room. But, of course, they still do, offering wines to Harvest Hosts RVers and people doing wine tours in the area. I have no idea how the New Mexico Board of Tourism backed them without a proper winery, but they did. We got the tour, which included a view of a tiny room with a bunch of TV screens, where we could see ourselves. They had cameras on every inch of the property. It was not like any other Harvest Host we had been to.

But I digress.

We were tasting wine in the tasting room/bedroom, at an antique table within view of our host’s unmade bed and laundry room, when she proceeded to tell us all about the neighborhood; including that she had been sexually assaulted by one of her neighbors. The assault had allegedly taken place in the room where we were sitting, just a couple of months prior, in full view of the many cameras all over the place, but she told us the man was still not in jail. This also did not make us feel better about camping there overnight.

The final crack was when we were headed back to our RV. The hosts had offered to let us use their bathroom (we only use the RV one for emergencies, and we hadn’t yet figured out the water pump), and when we walked through the motorcycle garage you need to walk through to get to the “winery,” we saw Nazi and Confederate flags.

I consider myself a tolerant person. I am liberal politically, but I can accept other points of view. I draw the line at fucking Nazis, though. And I think most people do.

Needless to say, now we really wanted to get the heck out of there.

We again decided that making a break for it now would be too awkward, plus it was dark, the roads were windy and unfamiliar, we were in an RV, and we had both drank the equivalent of about two glasses of wine at our bedside tasting. We decided the best course of action would be to get out of there as soon as possible in the morning, and to let Harvest Hosts and everyone else know to stay away from this place.

The people had been nice to us, but the place was so dirty, and so below standards … and it just made me sick to my stomach to think of a Black or Jewish person coming there as part of Harvest Hosts, or wine tasting for a birthday party, and seeing a Nazi party flag and other racist nonsense so prominently displayed. We notified Harvest Hosts, the NM Board of Tourism, and put a detailed public post on Facebook and Google reviews.

In the two weeks or so since we left that place, they apparently got wind of our posts, because they have now claimed that their dirty garage with the lawn chairs and motorcycle parts and Amazon boxes in it was actually a “military museum,” and those multiple racist icons and flags were just, like, exhibits on display. Makes sense, right? Because that’s how you would display a flag in a museum, draped over some boxes, or hanging up next to where you and your buddies sit around and smoke cigarettes? That’s your priceless artifact, there as an educational tool, next to the bottle of cleanser?

Come on. Look at those photos. This ain’t a museum; and it ain’t a winery. It’s a couple of racist, white trash people who learned how to make homemade wine, trying to pretend they are better than they are.

I believe that these flags were and are a statement. You don’t pick them up accidentally, you don’t display them without knowing what they are, and you don’t display them unless you believe in them. This dump was nothing close to a museum, but even if it was, just for the sake of argument, there is no museum that would display racist icons like this without explanation or context, if at all. A racist flag in a dirty garage is just that.

That’s all I am going to say about it, because they are also claiming they called New Mexico state police, because they say we stole priceless military artifacts from their “military museum,” and they are trying to get their friends to harass me on social media. They even found an old photo from September, of my sister and I, and added it to their sprawling Facebook post, claiming that she and I were the ones who visited, when of course, it was Nichelina and I, and of course we didn’t steal anything. They have the tapes to prove where we were every second we were on their property, so I am not worried about the cops. I know we didn’t steal, and I know we did the right thing by telling people about this place. No regrets.

I will say that I am disappointed in Harvest Hosts for allowing these people back on to their program after removing them, but I suppose they were convinced about the military museum thing. I still have a Google review active, so hopefully visitors will check first before visiting. I am still wary of any people of color coming to visit, but I assume they would have taken down the troublesome flags by now.

UPDATE: OMG YOU WILL NEVER BELIEVE THIS. A week or so after I published this, the online harassment started by (I can now name and tag them) Wicked Kreations continued, and I received a Facebook message from someone I don’t know.

The message contained a link to an article detailing the arrest of Tim Lopez, the co-owner of the “winery,” for murder. He (allegedly) shot someone in the head at a grocery store on Thanksgiving.

Oh.

My.

Gaaah.

And that’s the same guy trying to accuse us of theft!

I am also happy to report that Harvest Hosts has removed these people from their app now. I spoke to them, and they explained that Wicked Kreations was temporarily removed when I showed them the flags, but reinstated when they provided HH with paperwork showing that they were a “military museum.” (You all know my opinion on that.)

Harvest Hosts explained that they had to give these people the benefit of the doubt, which I understand, but now that this has happened, I think they understand what kind of people they’re dealing with here. I really love Harvest Hosts, so I’m very happy it all came out well … except, of course, for that guy at the grocery store on Thanksgiving.

I guess if that’s the worst and craziest thing that happens to us on this trip, we’ll be just fine, right?

New Mexico is stunning, and the landscape is much more varied than you might imagine if you’ve never visited. There are mountains and plains, arid deserts and green valleys. We were at high elevation and it was early November, so it was very sunny, yet cold, and the ground was frozen.

It was beautiful.

As I mentioned before, New Mexico has a great wine scene. They have the usual whites and reds, but because grapes are so hard to grow in New Mexico, local producers often incorporate lots of other fruits and herbs. The unnamed Nazis made some wine from strawberries and others from native chokecherries.

Our next Harvest Host was like we have come to expect: wide-open spaces, lovely vineyards, warm hospitality, no racist flags of any kind.

Wines of the San Juan has an adorable little outdoor seating area as well as a small tasting room and gift shop, plus they offered electric and water hookups, which is really nice when your generator is super loud.

When we arrived at Wines of the San Juan, we noticed a lot of other farms nearby, but apparently a small, local lavender farm produces enough lavender for WSJ to make a delicious lavender wine. It tastes like a slightly fruity white wine, but has a strong lavender scent and taste. It’s wonderful. They also make a sweet cherry pie wine and other blackberry and fruity blends. It was probably the most variety we saw in any of our wine tasting travels on this leg of the trip.

The rest of the trip to San Diego went fairly quickly … we went west on a remote highway that went back and forth a couple of times between Arizona and Utah. It was cold and dry and remote.

It was also spectacularly beautiful.

Part of the drive went through the Grand Staircase Escalante National Monument, which has some of the most beautiful rock formations you’ve ever seen. We had to stop for a few minutes to enjoy the scenery, take some pictures, and let Dego stretch his paws.

Then we spent a couple of nights with friends in Las Vegas (who have been quarantining), and from there straight into southern California. In San Bernardino, we ran into some issues trying to find a free spot to park — no Harvest Hosts were nearby, so we went to a Wal-Mart, only to be kicked out around midnight. Apparently the store parking thing doesn’t work if you’re in a city or county that doesn’t allow overnight parking or camping; which is most of southern California. Eventually we found a cool security guard at a Costco who let us park there for a few hours, but it was technically illegal.

Aaah, but to be back in Ocean Beach. We left the San Bernardino parking lot super early and we were back in Ocean Beach and enjoying the salty air and the warm sun by noon.

#breastcancerportraitproject

We’ve basically been on the beach all week… parking at various friends’ homes at night and sitting at the beach all day.

#breastcancerportraitproject

My stepbrother visited us and showed us cool things about my RV, like how to light the stove, adjust the water pressure, and empty the black tank (I did read the manual on those things, but hadn’t done them yet). But every day on the beach ends with a lovely sunset out the front window.

I am spending Thanksgiving at my brother’s while Nichelina and Dego and Dolly are in San Diego, and we will meet up again this weekend and head back east on Tuesday (after more doctor’s visits and scans on Monday). In the meantime, we feel better about cooking in the RV and emptying the tanks if we need to.

#breastcancerportraitproject

I also had another sitting with my friend Missy, who runs the Breast Cancer Portrait Project. If you haven’t seen it, it’s really an amazing and inspiring body of work, telling the stories and sharing photos of women who were under 40 when they were diagnosed with breast cancer.

#breastcancerportraitproject

I sat for a session with Missy about a year ago, when I was celebrating being a survivor. Now that cancer is back, she offered to come to the beach and photograph me again in my RV.

#breastcancerportraitproject

I strongly recommend that you visit her site and her social media and support this amazing project.

I will update soon with the next leg of the trip. The tentative plan now is to head due east, stopping in Houston and Louisiana on the way back to Tennessee. We will definitely enjoy the scenery and the Harvest Hosts and the food, but Nichelina and I both promised our moms we would be on the east coast by Christmas, so we can’t lag too much.

In the meantime, have a great Thanksgiving week.

If you are enjoying this content, please contribute to my bucket list GoFundMe page here.

Part 2: The Southwest

I just completed part 2 of the best bucket list road trip ever. I learned a few things about camping in a van, about the quality of fast food, and I (re-)learned how much I love — and just enjoy being around — my family.

First things first, if for some reason you don’t follow me on Facebook or Instagram or Twitter (shame on you!), you probably have not been informed that my last scans, which I had in San Diego, looked really good!

Unfortunately, barring some sort of miracle, I don’t really have a lot to look forward to medically other than hoping the tumors don’t get bigger (hurting my bones more or breaking them) or spread elsewhere (a big concern especially for the lesions on my skull) — but that’s just what happened! All of the tumors either shrunk or stayed the same size, and luckily one of the big ones on my skull they were worried about, shrunk by like, a lot.

So it was the best news I could have hoped for.

After I left San Diego, I went to see my ex-stepdad in San Bernardino for an hour or so, then went on to my brother’s house in Oxnard (just north of Los Angeles).

Brotherhood

To make a very long story very short, my dad was married before he married my mom. I never knew the woman he married, or her son, my half-brother. For some reason, our father was adamant that my sister and I never meet our brother, and we never did … and after my parents divorced, our father showed us his true colors, and we moved on and didn’t think much about his side of the family at all.

A couple of years ago, on Facebook, I searched my half-brother’s name on a whim (his name was literally all I knew about him, after all), and found a guy who I thought was my brother. His name could have changed. But then, I looked at his photo, and let’s just say, I was sure we were related. Over the last two years, I started to get to know him and his wife, and it’s really been amazing. I even have a “new” niece and nephew.

Then, this diagnosis came.

I wasn’t going to get more time to get to enjoy the loving and fun relationship I just found, this extra side of my family I never knew existed. It’s a harsh realization.

But, we’re going to try to make up for that.

The plan was for me to meet up at his house in Oxnard, then drive through the southwest for a few days on our way to Houston to see our other sister. (It is becoming clear to me that I will basically be travelling between Tennessee and San Diego quite a bit, so I am happy to have my sister’s place in Houston as a sort-of-halfway point to rest.) The three of us hadn’t spent any time together at all except for right when I got out of the hospital, and I could barely move, then.

My brother and I changed our plans several times. First, we talked about going to Vegas and the Grand Canyon, then considered both traffic (at the canyon) and Covid-19 (in Vegas). Then, we talked about going to Dodge City, then quickly realized a) we didn’t have time to go that far east before heading to Houston in three days, and b) there is nothing to do in Dodge City. We were also trying to plot our route along where some cool Harvest Hosts places are, but many are closed for either the pandemic or the season.

We finally settled on driving in a general easterly direction, stopping briefly in Vegas for a quick photo shoot, then driving to Zion National Park instead of the Grand Canyon. We also wanted to go through New Mexico and see Roswell, and maybe Carlsbad Canyons. We had a general plan, but not an itinerary.

On the Road Again

My brother insisted on leaving his house at an ungodly hour, so I got to see the sunrise touched with a bit of smog and haze and wildfire smoke while he drove the van.

In Vegas, we took our obligatory sign photo …

… and I gave Trump hotel a little salute on behalf of those of us with pre-existing conditions.

But it was still morning, so we barely spent any time in Vegas. I lost $10 at the slot machines in Circus Circus, I washed my hands about 10 times, and then we were back on the road.

The real breathtaking views — like, it will literally take your breath away — were in Zion National Park.

Photos don’t even do it justice (although I will say, my iPhone 8 was taking some great shots!). Thank goodness for Teddy Roosevelt’s foresight to set aside and protect National Parks, because they are the most amazing places.

Zion has guided tours on a tram, but also a self-guided driving tour with a really cool windy road, which luckily has points where you can stop and take pictures.

It was really an incredible afternoon. We could have spent a week there exploring all of the mountains, trails and little villages nearby.

There was also a super-cool thing that you probably don’t know about if you’ve never been to Zion … but there is a weird hole in one of the mountains that looks man-made but might not be …

After wondering aloud what the heck that could be, my brother and I took the driveable trail that goes through one of the mountain tunnels. It was completed in 1930, so it’s wicked narrow and super dark, and of course has no electricity or infrastructure apart from the actual road and tunnel. It turns out, that hole in the mountain is a way to get light into the tunnel without electricity.

Brilliant.

If you’d like to hear my brother and I discover this in real time, check out this awesome POV video he took while driving through the tunnel . And be sure to follow and check out my brother’s theme park blog, Park Journey.

No More McDonald’s

On our way to Vegas from California, we stopped at McDonald’s somewhere in the desert. Mostly because it was the only place to stop. We were thinking about lunch at a diner near Yermo that apparently has awesome food and cool movie memorabilia, but it was kind of gross and empty when we arrived.

I basically used their ladies’ room, took this photo with a creepy Elvis, and left.

After our cruise through Zion National Park, we were planning to spend the night at a Harvest Hosts spot, a trading post in Navajo country almost at the Four Corners (of Utah, Arizona, New Mexico and Colorado).

After a very long and very beautiful drive — which was surprisingly diverse, in my opinion (you expect the desert to only look a certain way, but in northern Arizona and New Mexico and southern Utah, you see an amazing variety of rocks, formations, mountains, flora, and even weather) — we came to the trading post, but it was very dark at night and there was no phone reception. It seemed a little too sketchy, so we kept driving to a small town in northwestern New Mexico to get a motel room for the night.

There is no food in the desert.

We arrived almost exactly at 10 p.m., but everything was closed. Everything except– wouldn’t you know it — the McDonald’s. My poor brother drove all around Farmington, New Mexico looking for any kind of food, but eventually went to the McDonald’s because that was all that was available. We ate enough to not be starving anymore, but then we both felt kind of gross.

The next day, it was time for something better.

We weren’t far from Santa Fe, and I had a good friend who has spent a lot of time there. We arrived just in time for lunch, and at her suggestion stopped in the center of town — the Plaza, as they call it.

We were excited for anything that didn’t come in a paper bag and have fries and a drink included. We found the Cowgirl BBQ restaurant, where (appropriately socially distanced) we had some amazing drinks and spicy food.

New Mexico is famous for its chiles, and I ordered their Smoked Chicken Short Stack, which was a stack of blue corn tortillas layered with smoked chicken, then topped with chile sauce.

I got it Christmas style, or red and green together. It was … definitely spicy. The chicken had an amazing smoked flavor and the tortillas were nice and fresh.

We hit the road again, headed to Roswell, then to Carlsbad Caverns. Halfway between the two was another Harvest Hosts stop, this time a winery. When I called them ahead of time to let them know we were coming, they informed us that it was lasagna night, so in addition to a place to camp, we could taste some wine and have a nice dinner. It was like we almost could get over having nothing but fast food the day before.

Roswell is … interesting. I expected that some of the town would be trying to bank on the weird alien landing story, but wow.

The sign for the Dunkin’ Donuts had an alien holding it up.

The gas station had green moonmen waving you in to the car wash.

The street signs look like this:

WE GET IT. THERE ARE ALIENS.

The UFO Museum was very cool, complete with full replicas…

… of the alien autopsy and other parts of the legendary story of the Roswell alien landing.

Honestly, some of it was more than a little creepy.

I will say that the UFO Museum, at least, took social distancing and Covid precautions very seriously. Everyone was masked, there was a machine at the door that took your temperature, and there was a strict 6-feet distancing policy.

I kind of wanted to just get out of there before someone offered me an alien-shaped burger or something. Plus, I had lasagna to eat. We had to get on the road to the Balzano Family Winery so we could have dinner and some wine before it got dark.

Success!

This is a really great Harvest Hosts spot. If you aren’t familiar with Harvest Hosts, it is an RV owners’ program wherein you pay an annual fee, and you can park your rig (or converted cargo van as it were) for free at various locations. Most of them are farms, breweries, distilleries, wineries and attractions, but you can also expand your membership to golf courses.

Anyway, we set up the van (electric hookups are always a plus), then went to their lovely garden area for dinner. It’s not a restaurant, but a winery and gift shop, and apparently they also have dinner nights.

We stumbled luckily upon lasagna night, and we ordered a bottle of the Montepulciano to wash it down.

The pecan pie was also slammin’.

It was very, very nice.

In the morning, we rose with the sun, and took a few photos of the lovely sunrise over the desert.

Then it was on to Carlsbad Caverns. This is where we got really lucky.

For the most part, 2020 was one of the worst times to decide to take a nationwide road trip. Unfortunately, my clock is ticking, so I have to hit the road, pandemic or no. But half of the cool places to visit are closed or irreparably affected.

Others, like Carlsbad Caverns, are better.

We checked the website before we arrived (a MUST when traveling anywhere these days), and it advised to come early, because they often sell out of tickets before 9 a.m.

The visitor center and gift shop is awesome.

They only allow people to visit the cave a few at a time. We got a ticket for one of the first tour groups (8:45 a.m.) and I had my walker with me because my back was hurting.

So, with the combination of our early ticket time and my handicap, we got to take the elevator down to the caverns, which shaved about 45 minutes off of the walk down. Which meant that as we entered the cave, the first group of tourists (from 8 a.m.) were still descending.

We were practically alone. In the caverns.

They tell you to keep your voice to a whisper, because any noise reverberates like crazy. I’ve seen photos and videos of tourists in the caverns, and they’re always super close to each other, and the videos sound like there’s a ton of background noise (probably all of those people whispering to each other).

But this was practically silent.

We didn’t go far (it’s a hike for healthy people and my back wasn’t just up to it), but we saw about half of the public part of the cave, and that was a lot.

The lighting inside makes the rocks look like living creatures or spooky ghouls, and being in there in near-silence doesn’t hurt, either.

After Carlsbad, we headed southeast to see our sister in Houston. If you’ve ever been through west Texas, you’ll know that part of the trip isn’t much to write about other than the fried chicken. The chicken livers at Bush’s Fried Chicken in Pecos were legit.

Check out my next post for the shenanigans we got up to in Houston, and my trip further east to an alpaca farm and my mom’s house. I’ll be at my mom’s for a couple of weeks while I get my RV ready to hit the road!

If you are enjoying this content, please contribute to my bucket list GoFundMe page here.