12/1/2015
Our trailer had a film of glassy ice covering the steps. Crystal rang the RV repair shop to confirm that we were getting our debilitated heater motor was being ordered. He ensured her it would arrive the next day. The news calmed our fears and allowed me to hit the road with a clear mind.
From Azalea I began to cruise towards forest. Cars disappeared and wildlife played. Each step took me farther away from the loud noise of the five freeway. I could taste the cold damp air with each inhaled breath. As the elevation began to climb my legs began to burn. I could feel my velocity drop even though I was working harder. I looked to my side and suddenly I found myself high up in the mountain. I could see the top of neighboring mountains as well. The steep road curved and twisted until we neared the snowy apex. At the top, several paths became available. The one I had to take was covered in snow and ice. The running ceased and I began to take careful calculated steps on my descent.
After a couple miles the sound of trickling water emerged. I spotted little droplets dangling from the trees. As the snow melted, the water dropped and became part of a stream. It made me think of what I always tell the kids, “An ocean isn’t possible without the first drop of water.” As I headed towards Rogue River my steps were being added to my total. I had just cracked nine thousand miles and I was approaching my ocean.
Crystal received a call at the end of the day that held some bad news. The RV repair guy tried three distributors and could not find the part for our heater. We had wasted gas and time running forward and driving backwards. At least the Tri City RV had agreed to accommodate us another evening. We would not freeze.
The next morning we scrambled to find a place that could get our part. We needed to have the heat working before my mother arrived to join us on the road. Crystal was able to locate a place that could have the part waiting for us. But first I had to get through another day of hills. I had to find my way to the freeway and face a train of big rigs. The machines moved slowly but they were powerful and loud. Gears grinded and screeched as I pushed up and down hills. Every now and then the rigs drove on the shoulder. During those parts I ran on the shoulder of the shoulder. The dozen freeway miles felt like I was running on the track of a roller coaster: up and down, up and down. I was happy to reach an exit and resume the side roads. The shoulder vanished but a sidewalk appeared after a few steps. When I reached Grants Pass, the sky was dark and cloudy and drops of rain had begun to fall. At the end of the day I reached the Holiday Inn Express and met Doug, the manager that donated the room. We had a chance to talk about his kids before I retreated to the warm comfortable lodging space.
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