Just like a woman

I just finished a tri-state journey of almost 2000 miles through Washington, Oregon and northern California. Every place I stopped, whether for gas, food, banking, shopping or other needs, had terrific customer service. I was treated very well and several people wanted to know how I handle being a solo RVing woman.

I really like the gas stations in Oregon because you're not permitted to pump your own gas. An attendant comes to your window, asks for the key and location of your gas cap, and then pumps the gas for you. Not only that, if you're paying with cash, s/he will take your money to the cashier for you, returning with a receipt and any change.

One of my boondocking nights was spent at the Travel Center of America (TA) in Redding, CA. In the booth next to me were two long-time truckers (one was 87 years old and said he would keep driving until he couldn't handle the big Kenworth any more), and we spoke about politics, driving, courtesy, respect and several other issues. We agreed on many things, although our points of view came from different directions. I have a great deal of respect for long haul truckers and usually find a space between them when I travel. They're professionals and maintain the speed which gets me where I want to go, saving gas while I drive. It's amazing the difference five miles an hour makes to fuel consumption. The two men knew I'm an RVer and although they frequently look at us with disdain because of our driving ability, they also were intelligent enough to know we're good drivers too.

My RV was losing power and labored up the steep grades in southern Oregon, traveling 35 mph in granny gear. The oil gauge started fluctuating wildly in Rogue River, Oregon the day before I left to travel south and I was going to wait until I reached San Francisco so I could have the oil changed. Instead, I spotted a Denny's in Yreka after the last long downgrade and left the highway for a cup of coffee.

I asked about a place that could handle an oil change for an RV and was directed to an Oilstop about a mile away. Not only was it RV friendly with a shallow driveway and high overhead doors, the service was phenomenal. Four young men treated me with kid gloves, offered a free drink, performed a 33-point inspection, made suggestions (but did not push) for additional treatments, gave me a computer printout of the services they performed and recommended action, and had me back on the road in under 15 minutes. And yes, they looked like the people in the picture. Their mission statement: "We will serve people with excellence, humbly, with a servant's heart." And they did. The RV ran like she was new and I thoroughly enjoyed the rest of the trip.

RVing women are everywhere

When I was driving through Salem, I passed a Safeway store and since I was in need of groceries, I was going to stop. The driveway was a sharp turn right after a right turn onto a busy highway. There was no way I could get into the lot nor park if I did. I kept driving to the RV park.

When I arrived at the park in Silverton, I asked if anyone was going to town and if so, could I ride with them to pick up some groceries and stop at the bank? If they were going to Safeway, I could take care of both errands at the same time since my bank has in-store branches in Safeway. The managers said they would let me know and if they went to the post office, they would take me.

So I walked back to my RV and started working. A blue car turned down my row, stopped and a woman behind the wheel waved at me. I didn't recognize her and I walked outside. She said, "RVing Women, right?" and pointed to the decal.
"Yes. FreeWheelers chapter. We're the ones hosting the convention. You?"
She replied, "Cascadia chapter. We live in the park while my roommate (whom I saw sitting in the passenger seat with the dog) takes care of her ill father."
"I'm Adrienne."
"I'm Marly and this is Linda. The dog is Tally."
"Nice to meet you."

I told them I had just arrived and was waiting for someone who was going to town so I could get some groceries. The Safeway lot was too small for the RV.
Marly said, "Hop in. We're going to the post office and will take you."
You don't have to offer twice.

Not only did they take me to Safeway where I stocked up and took care of banking, they also took me to the hardware store and gave me a tour of some of Silverton's murals.

When they dropped me off, Marly said, "Do you want to go to the farmer's market on Saturday?"
Let's see: I'm a vegetarian in an RV park surrounded by farms and I've been offered a trip to town for the farmer's market. Hmmm. Sounds like a no-brainer to me.
"Yes!"

My new friends picked me up on Saturday and we spend an hour at the farmers market. Everything had been picked the previous night or that morning. I went home with Gravenstein apples, corn on the cob, red potatoes, goat cheese spread with rosemary and peppercorns from a local dairy, and marionberry jam and honey from two local ladies.

I left on Monday and didn't have a chance to say good-by to those two terrific RVing women. Thank you, Marly and Linda. I hope to be able to return the favor to other RVing women when we meet.

Roseburg to Silverton, Oregon

If you've ever driven north on I-5 through Oregon and passed Salem, you would have passed the turnoff for Silverton. When I turned off the freeway in Salem, I passed a large shopping area several blocks long with just about every store and bank imaginable. There is a Wal-Mart too, with a small lot. However, Lucy would not fit in the parking lots so I kept driving to the RV park.

The Silver Spur RV Park was literally built from the fields surrounding it: http://www.silverspurrvpark.com/index.htm. And if you have Happy Camper or Passport America, it's half price. The spaces are long, wide, have 30- and 50-amp connections, cable TV and free wi-fi. There are tent sites as well. The young couple who manage it are doing it right and I recommend stopping here if you want a quiet respite from the road.

The local farms have produce for sale like tomatoes, corn, squash and fruit. It's a vegetarian's idea of heaven. Three blocks away is the Oregon Garden.

I'll be here enjoying the area for five days.

Klamath, California to Rogue River, Oregon

On Monday, I left Klamath, CA for Rogue River, Oregon. Highway 199 off 101 is a one- and two-lane winding road through gorgeous scenery. I shared the road with some local drivers and truckers on their way to Grants Pass.

Once I arrived in Grants Pass, it took twenty minutes to drive through town on the way to the Highway 99 and I-5 turnoff to Rogue River. Traffic was bumper-to-bumper with logging trucks, RVers and locals. However, it was worth it when I arrived at the I-5 south rest area number 45B. The rest area shares the offramp with the state park. Trees, grass, dog walking area, a clean restroom, wi-fi (for a fee), soda machine and the sound of the Rogue River all shared the cool, serene space. I waited there for a couple of hours for my friend Judi, another solo woman RVer, to leave work and meet me so I could follow her to her home. Judi and I had workamped at Olema Ranch Campground together and hadn't seen each other for two years.

Judi shares the property adjacent to a beautiful cabin about 20 minutes from the freeway over winding roads through horse ranches and trees. The "driveway" was a quarter-mile long, one lane wide and gravel, with low branches trimmed, and since Judi knew it much better, I let her drive my RV up to the house. Her motorhome was plugged in next to the house and the owners had their RV hooked up next to the garage. She parked my RV next to the side of the garage and plugged me in to a 20-amp connection. The owners also generously shared their satellite wi-fi. It was a terrific place to spend the night, cool and quiet.

Early the following morning, I followed Judi to the freeway (never would have found it on my own). She waved as she turned south to go to work, and I went north to find gas and breakfast. I found both in Roseburg at Love's Travel Stop.



After the attendant filled my tank, I parked the RV to the side out of the way and went to the store. I had tried for two months to find someone who carried windshield wiper blades for the RV. It had rained heavily the day before and the wipers were almost worthless. I figured if it was a truck stop, they might have what I needed. Not only did they have the complete wiper attachment, another attendant installed them for me.

Now both Lucy and I were full and if it rained, I could actually see. Feeling much safer, we headed north.