We had traveled all the way to the Pacific Ocean and now it was time to return to Little Rock.
We did have such a good time!
The plan was to slip out of L.A. After rush hour when everyone was headed in not out of the city and it worked with the exception of a bottleneck near downtown.
Just on the outskirts of Los Angeles we were on a rise of the freeway and on the other side was a widow making pot hole that we met at 70 mph. BOOM! Dave has a great sense handling a vehicle and took us to the next exit to check out the trailer. A lesser crater broke the undercarriage outside of Memphis before and was rebuilt stronger so, this would be the test of the new work.
It was fine! NO DAMAGE AT ALL! I did a little celebration dance right then and there! However, it did dislodge the refrigerator which fell halfway to the floor dumping it's contents. It could have been worse!
We dropped in on my dear friend, I loathe name droppers, but this would be the exception, because she's my hero and because she's my friend, America's Sweetheart, Dorothy Hamill. I was a fan since childhood and when she began her adult skating camp on Nantucket Island years ago, I was beyond excited. I found her to be as lovely as everyone perceives her to be. Over the years, I have come to know she's a deeply caring person, drives like Mr. Magoo, and has a great sense of humor.
Dorothy lived my Olympic Dream for me as my parents didn't support my skating, or each other for that matter. I worked summer jobs and baby sat to earn funds for skating club lessons. Having alcoholic parents keeps you out of the house and my sanctuary was the ice rink. I kept a picture of Dorothy in my backpack from Time Magazine with my skates and when things got bad as they often did, I would take that creased picture out and say, "If Dorothy can do it, so can I." I knew I was never going to the Olympics but I did become show skater in the chorus of Ice Follies and Holiday On Ice. I still followed Dorothy's skating career, which lasted longer than most, and when word was received she started an adult camp, I was there.
My favorite skating jump is the Axel, flying forward up into the air, rotating, and landing backward. So, when asked what my dream come true would be that first year of camp, it was to do an Axel side by side with Dorothy.
She was just coming out of chemo for breast cancer and skated over to me and said, "I'm sorry, Billie but I can't do an Axel anymore." I was so embarrassed, I didn't think, it never occurred to me, that she wouldn't be able to....
But the second year of camp, in the same way, she skated over to me and said, "If you want to do an Axel together, I'm ready." That's how generous she is. Having worked 6 full weeks to get the jump back only to do one with me. She made my childhood dream come true, simple as that, and I remain eternally grateful. You know, that day will forever be embossed in my memory. I held it together the rest of the day, but when I got back to our lodgings, I sat on the end of the bed and cried like a baby. Not because of my dream coming true, but because of her caring generosity toward me. Little insignificant me. I understood the sacrifice, work, and pain it took to get that jump back. I would later come to know, it was the last one she ever did.
On the way to her home in Palm Springs we drove through the largest wind farm we had ever seen. We shared a breakfast together, did some vintage shopping, and gave Dot and her husband John a tour of our little camper. I think they thought we were crazy! I would have agreed with them! But we were given a trailer book as a very thoughtful gift..... so maybe not. Our visit was all too brief and we headed out with Lucy (my doggie) in the window and the two of us waving goodbye.
We were going to Carlsbad Caverns with a side trip to Roswell, NM just for fun. The turn off near El Paso to head north was very near to Alamogordo, NM where my grandfather was a deputy on horseback in his youth. We came in a day or two behind a sleet storm that left the roads clear but with a ribbon of chat down the center. As is the nature of people, everyone wanted to pass, and when they did, it would throw the chunky pith into our path. So, we played this game, when a vehicle came along side us, we would slow down quickly to avoid the dermabrasion that was coming...... all the way to Carlsbad.
The night was spent in a soggy little campground ( more like the Last Resort ) but if it had been warmer, it would have been a mud hole. It's funny now, but when we woke up in the wrong side of town, we were glad to leave! It was cheap. We found out, in life and in campgrounds, you generally get what you pay for but sometimes with life on the road, you get what you get.
The next morning, we were dirty but not as bad as when we picked up the trailer in Colorado. But still, Sprocket was not as shiny in her pictures....
I love a good cave tour but it has to be pretty. What Carlsbad lacked in eye appeal, it made up for in size. It's huge but mostly beige, and a lot of it. It was biting cold with the wind outside but it was warm in the cavern.
We did not know what to expect in Roswell but let's just say the UFO stuff has been great for business. It's a bustling little town but we did not have to wait in line for the UFO Museum, if that tells you anything....
Navigating our way from Roswell to an identifiable freeway took some doing. Driving state roads at night was a challenge. More challenging was finding decent food to eat. It's really bad when you see a Subway Sandwich Shop and cry to the heavens, "Thank you, Lord!" That is until you see the sandwich maker and are sooooooo thankful they have to wear gloves.......
pausing here for your mind to paint the picture.......
Then, you are forced to ingest said sandwich, breathing air that smells like a radioactive dry cleaners. I'm telling you, oil drilling is an odious endeavor as is rounding up cattle for transport. Just a couple of the posy patches we partook during our return progress.
Remember the slogan, "See America First"? Somehow "Smell" didn't get into the ad campaign.
Texas is one big state. You can drive all day and still be in it. And the abundant lack of scenery is copious!
We made it! 3,000 plus miles of adventure and we lived to tell the tale! Things were definitely looking up.
After a brief rest, I would begin planning to attend our first BIG vintage trailer rally.
I had joined a group called Southern Vintage Trailer Friends and there was an event scheduled on Tybee Island, GA late April with over 100 trailers in attendance. I could not wait to go!
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