By Russ and Tiña De Maris
A few weeks ago we asked readers to tell us about their dreams of future RV travel. We’ve dealt out a few at a time, and here’s the last installment – one with a moral for all of us. Our thanks to all of you who shared.
Put your dreams to music
Lydia Bishop and her husband have ambitious 20th anniversary plans for next year. Lydia’s better-half has yet to see the Grand Canyon, so that’s on the map. And since he’s an Eagles fan, and with the Grand Canyon so near Winslow, Arizona, who could resist the next part: “He’ll pose with the ‘Standin On a Corner’ statue while he’ll play a cover of the Eagles’ classic, as I shoot a video.” Lydia plays a bit freely with musical allusions as she harks back to the Rolling Stones, too. “We want to see all the sights in the Southwest. COVID-19 is hanging over our heads like a supercell thundercloud getting ready to rain hell in the form of a second wave,” she says. “Sad, frustrating days as we’re all ‘Living in a Ghost Town’.”
There’s no place like …
A bittersweet lament, no doubt shared by far too many of our readers right now is this one from Ivan Tracy. “Our wish is to get back home to Nebraska from Yuma, Arizona!”
If you’re stuck somewhere, bottled up by this pandemic, our thoughts are with you. Keep heart, and keep on dreaming.
Dreams despite pitfalls
And then there are those who put their noses to the wind and keep on plodding toward their dreams, no matter what. Martha Goudy certainly has determination, as her story shows.
“My dream to see America, traveling with an RV, began years ago,” she says, and references her 2006 marriage to Ben. “I told him travel was the only thing on a ‘non-existent pre-nup’.” Martha had spent years caring for others, first as a single mom, then caring for her mother who died at 102.
“It was finally our turn,” says Martha. In 2016 they sold the house and drove to Texas to pick up their brand-new, tiny Casita trailer. “It was my dream to see America and its beauty, take photos and write about our adventures. Ben would pick up work as a handyman along the way,” she explains. “For eleven months it worked – we saw Zion, Bryce, Capitol Reef, and other places. Then, while on a job in Park City, Utah, our beloved Aussie was killed. Four months later I was diagnosed with cancer. We had just arrived for the winter in the RV park we liked. Someone loaned us a bigger trailer to stay in. Next winter we were back in the Casita recovering.”
Last year, Martha and Ben finally got back on the road. Off to a great start, “We saw wolves in Yellowstone, saw Rocky Mountain National Park, Mesa Verde, and other great places in New Mexico as we headed back to our winter RV park in Arizona.” But spring came early to Arizona, and the heat right along with it. The couple weighed anchor and headed north, concerned about the impacts of coronavirus on travel. It was then the big ugly caught up with them again. “We were on I-10, not far from our exit when we rear-ended an SUV that had slowed after passing an accident. Ben couldn’t stop the momentum of a fully loaded truck and trailer. Front end crushed, airbags deployed.” With a spirit born of earlier troubles, Martha writes, “We are okay, except I have a sprained ankle. It could have been so much worse.”
Friends at the RV park where they were staying jumped to the rescue, looking after their needs, including a place to stay in a park model – something Martha says they don’t want to make a habit of. Happily the trailer wasn’t harmed, and the pickup truck will either be repaired or totaled out. In any event, they’ll soon have wheels. “I feel incredibly blessed just to be here,” says Martha, “after all of what life has dished up.”
Has it stopped the dreams? Martha observes: “We couldn’t have foreseen any of this happening – but it can be a risky business, this full-time RV lifestyle. But the best part is that the dream of seeing America is still alive. We’ll get through this and try again.”
Thanks, Martha, for reminding us. The dream is still alive. We will get through this and try again. Never forget it. Never stop dreaming.