Why we travel

A Joshua tree.

We spent a week at Joshua Tree National Park in early February. It was a good trip and our first trip to the desert. I would certainly go back.

We did a lot of exploring and took a lot of day-trips. We don't do a lot of hiking as I am a candidate for knee replacement surgery (a consult is scheduled for April when we return to Michigan). But it was a good time and we did take many walks along easy trails in the desert.

King liked to climb hills in
the desert while we were on
our walks. He wanted to see
how high up he had to go to get
cell phone reception

One morning a group of three college students knocked on the trailer door. They were from a liberal arts college (and I can't remember the name) in northern Arizona and were interviewing campers to find out what brought them to Joshua Tree. I think they were rather surprised that a couple from Michigan even knew about Joshua Tree. Much as I am surprised by the number of people who do no realize just how big the Great Lakes truly are.

The students were rock climbers and I learned from them Joshua Tree has some of the sharpest granite in the U.S.. They showed me the cuts and scrapes on their hands -- although I would not have doubted them anyway.

Their interview made me think about why King and I travel.

King probably has his own reasons. I doubt he can even put into words why. But for me ... it is something I have wanted to do for a long, long time.

The summer between my freshman and sophomore years in college I was at home working for my

We visited the General Patton Museum on
one of our day trips. This is a 1950
military fire truck. My father was
a firefighter on an airfield in London
during World War II.

father in the dog food factory he managed. Two semesters of college in and I was already tired of studying. I stood on the line packing dog food and thought about what I wanted to do. It was a miserable summer. I had been away from home for a year and although back then I was a pretty straight-laced kid, being back home under my parents rules was difficult to say the least. Living in a small town where my every move was reported back to my father was grueling. I wanted to buy a van and just go. More than anything. Just go. Not acceptable as far as my parents were concerned and in truth, I never told them what I wanted to do. So being the good kid I was, I worked all summer, loaded my belongings into the family car and Mom drove me back to school in the fall.

King and I got married before either of us graduated and moved into married student housing.  It was an entire community of like-minded students -- an interesting time and probably as much education as classes.

Finally we both graduated (I graduated three months before our fourth child was born so mine was a long-track degree). Family, jobs and all the responsibilities that go with everyday living put the desire to just take off and travel on the back burner.

Sunrise in the desert.

Apparently, however, that desire for adventure never went away. It popped up again when King retired... but the timing wasn't right. My father's health was failing and after he passed Mom needed my sisters and I to watch after her while she slowly faded away with dementia...so we stuck around for a few more years.

King and I started talking about traveling more seriously after Mom died. My older sister, I later learned, thought we were nuts. But to her credit she never said anything to us. I may have caught her rolling her eyes as I talked about de-cluttering and down-sizing our home. But I tended to pretend I didn't notice. I don't think she truly thought we would actually go through with our plans.

She was the one who planned everything in advance and made reservations for dinners six months ahead of time. She died before she did everything on her bucket list. It was our wake-up call.

King in his winter coat.

So here I sit, less than a year later after her death, sitting on my bed in our travel trailer. I took a break from my writing to help King find his winter coat as it is a little chilly at our new location in the Angeles National Forest. We are heading back to Michigan in about six weeks because we told the gentleman whose hobby farm we are caretakers for (our post-retirement gig) we would be back for one last season.

We are learning the ins and outs of living in a 16-foot travel trailer (technically it is a 19-foot trailer, but you can't count the three-foot hitch as living space). It's a lot of togetherness. Which is probably why I am sitting on the bed writing and King is outside  reading. 

But we are doing what we want. It is different -- not having commitments or a time frame. It takes a little getting used to. It is easy to lose track of days (is today Wednesday or Thursday)? The start and the end of the weekend are no longer looked upon with euphoria or gloom. They are just days.

It is a good thing. No looking back. No regrets.