HELL ON WHEELS

Only hell is hotter. Wait a minute....this is Yuma. This is hell.

In Malibu

Hot dog

Well, here we go again down the road with our walk-in closet in tow. Our goal this time: all the way up the west coast to the San Juan Islands in Washington state, east to Spokane then drop back down through Montana, Idaho, Wyoming and Utah before getting back to Sedona in late September.

Thanks for being a part of Trailerblazing, part two. Tonight, one week into the trip, we are down and locked in a quite impressive RV park in the coastal town of Malibu on a hillside overlooking the Pacific.

One week without a blog or Daisy stories because until now we've had no TV, no internet and only spotty cell phone service. This park at $80 a night to park a damn 17-foot trailer has everything. Well, it damn well should. We'll be here three days and nights visiting our friends Brian and Denise who are summering here on the beach at Malibu. More about that later.

Our adventure began a week ago Sunday. We set out from our place south of Tucson. First night's destination: Yuma, Arizona. We had in mind to get up and get going by 6AM to try and beat the heat but one thing led to another and we left home at 10 and arrived at the RV park in Yuma at about 3.

Our first impression was, "Where the hell is everybody? Has there been a nuclear attack that we're unaware of?"

No RVs anywhere.

No one on the golf course.

No one in the pool.


No one nowhere at the Cocopah RV and Golf Resort.


But you didn't have to look far to understand why the "ghost town". The temperature gauge in the truck read 121 degrees. My God, it was hot. We thought the tires would melt and shred, a real danger in this heat especially for big rigs. But the good news is that we went out to dinner just as a cold snap set in. The temperature dropped to 110. But further good news: we heard that in nearby Death Valley the mercury approached and probably hit more than 130, a near-record high. We know where we're going next summer.


Next day we rolled into the Thousand Trails Pio Pico Park 25 miles southeast of San Diego and right on the border with Mexico. This is where the Border Patrol agent was shot and killed one week ago. These brave men and women have their hands full trying to stop non-violent illegal crossers and now they are faced with violent and armed drug runners. Geez, what a situation.


But enough about that. Now for a Daisy story. At the RV park Daisy had her first encounter with a tarantula. It was brief but somehow Daisy's instincts told her to stay away so the tarantula just ambled off into the grass.


Pio Pico's a nice park and an easy 40-minute drive into San Diego to my mom's place where my sister and brother-in-law were visiting from the northwest. But enough about them. Now for another Daisy story. My mom has a large, fully fenced in backyard where Daisy loves to chase a ball. Only now instead of running, one foot in front of the other like a normal dog, she leaps and springs all feet in the air at once like a deer bounding through the woods.



While it was great to see my family, three days driving through heavy San Diego traffic made us ready for something a bit more serene. So off we go to the next Thousand Trails where we have a free membership and where parking costs us nothing. This park, called Soledad Canyon, is in far northeastern LA county. Only thing is that to get here we had to drive through Riverside and San Bernardino through traffic and smog that was unbelievable.


But once here, the Thousand Trails was a good stopover. We had a great RV spot overlooking the San Gabriel mountains and wildlife refuge. Some of that wildlife makes its way into the park every night. Coyotes are a constant and sometimes deadly threat to pets. The guy parked next to us said that last week, ten spaces down, coyotes snatched a small dog and the only thing found the next day were tufts of white hair. I kept Daisy on a short leash on her nightly rounds but we still had a close encounter with a coyote that passed perhaps twenty feet in front of us. In a flash I picked her up and we hightailed it back to the safety of the 17-footer. There I discovered another threat from my traveling companion.


I have been ragging on Paul about chowing down on too many road snacks, Cheetos, Fritos and pork rinds and the newest healthy entree, Costco bins of "pub mix". I said, "your gut's getting too big" and at that point he threw it right at me saying that I look like I've put on ten-to-fifteen pounds myself and that did it. If we'd had knives and guns this Puerto Rican and that Irishman would have it out for good. As it was, we argued a bit, went to bed, got up, and had more Cheetos, Fritos, pork rinds, pub mix. Damn, that makes a good breakfast. Oh, we had a cup of coffee, too, and down the road we went as if nothing had happened.

Made our way through LA traffic and here we sit tonight in Malibu. Went to the supermarket. Bought fresh Dover sole. Had a tomato salad, steamed asparagus. A wonderful dinner. Tomorrow is another day.

We'd like to say it's all about the dog but she's sound asleep.