Our Thanksgiving Day departure was well planned. We’d be up
early, do our final bit of packing and put our little mobile home to rest for
the winter. Two and half hours down the road a delicious meal was waiting for
us at Mark and Michelle’s house (Tom’s niece). We’d also be breaking bread (and
turkey, ham, stuffing, desserts, etc., etc., etc.,) with his sister Cathy and
other family and friends.
Our car was about as packed as our tummies would be later on
in the day. Spike-dog had her little nest of blankets in the back, and I had my
provisions surrounding me in the passenger seat: my purse with essentials,
water, a few small snacks, and my sewing basket, so carefully prepared for the
next five days.
The weather was cooperative. Not only were the roads dry but
the sky was clear, and provided a brilliant backdrop to massive Mt. Shasta,
which guided us down I-5.
At one o’clock we pulled into Redding and joined our family
for a lovely afternoon with an OUTDOOR Thanksgiving feast. There is no Gratitude Avenue there, but in my mind it’s
the journey I take every day…grateful for the freedom to travel, to have
wonderful family and friends, and good health to boot.
The Hispanic population is large along this path of I-5 that
we were driving on our way to Mexico, but the last thing I expected to see
this day was a major billboard along the side of the road near Sacramento that
shouted out to me “Vive Hoy”. It somehow was a pre-greeting to our winter home
in Mazatlan. How fitting this message (live today!) was to us as we journeyed
south: notice the changing landscape, take pleasure in each other’s company,
pause along the way to stretch and refresh.
We were happy to be traveling back to Mexico, where “vive
hoy” seems to be more of the norm, rather than the underlying feelings of stress
and pressure and fear of "whatever" north of the border.
Vive hoy!
A long day of driving brought us down I-5, then east to
Bakersfield and on to the town of Mojave before dark set in. We were in the
land of a barren landscape except for the abundance of wind machines along the
hillsides and horizon line. We overnighted at pet-friendly Motel 6 and were up
before dawn to get an early start for the next leg of our journey. We hoped to
get as far as Tucson, or better yet Nogales, before sunset.
As the sun rose that day, we found ourselves on the
Pearblossom Highway located within the Antelope Valley of California. This was
another long, lonesome stretch within a stark desert setting, but one small
patch of yucca trees caught my attention with their balls of spikey greenery growing
out of the branches. The name of the highway evoked more than spikey orbs, and
I was wondering where I might find delicate pearblossoms in a place like this.
They never appeared, and the yuccas also disappeared into the quiet of the
desert landscape as it leads into Arizona.
Soon to come: Part 3 - South of the border!
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