Up the mountain, down the mountain, up the mountain, down the mountain. This is what it seems like to me traveling on I-17 North to Flagstaff, Arizona. I’m not a mountain enthusiast, but I’m determined to get to our destination in spite of roads that wind through steep terrain. Steve is not afraid of mountains. Chelsea, our Bichon Frise, doesn’t seem to mind them either. She is invigorated by finding a new park to explore on her daily walk. She stops at every stump and stone to smell them. If they pass whatever test she is performing, she pees on them. Ha!
We got up at 5:30 a.m. this morning and did not arrive at our destination until 5:30 p.m., and it was only 172 miles away. We had much to do to pack all the things we accumulated over the winter months. We also had to stop at Camping World to fill our propane tank for the inside stove, or so we thought. As it turned out the tank was half full, and I might have cooked another entire year before running out of propane gas. Steve wanted to fill up the coach with diesel at the Fry’s station, so we went there next. By this time we were hungry for lunch, and Taco Bell was on the same parking lot. How convenient. We usually have lunch at a rest stop half way to our destination. As I said, slow motion.
Better late than never. We are here and safe and sound. That is the good news. Since it is evening, we will start exploring our new surroundings tomorrow.
Carol Ann Hoel
Buddy for David, Novel