Trapped in Paradise

A little over a week ago I was looking toward our lift off date of April 4^th with a good deal of optimism that the current national crisis will have peaked and be on the downhill side of the hysteria by the time we leave. This morning I am not feeling as confident about that.

Northern Mockingbirds fight over mates. Black Bellied Whistling Ducks are suddenly inhabiting the tops of the towering palm trees around my RV. Red Winged Blackbirds are dwindling in numbers as are the American Pelicans who have graced the surface of the Resaca on the other side of the levee at the end of my street where I take my morning walks. They are making their way back to Iowa. Saylorville Lake our summer basecamp will soon be alive with their calls and presence. Spring is in the air and I am jealous of the bird’s blissful ignorance of our human problems.

The park is emptying out quickly with those who still have brick and mortar homes to return to after a winter of snowbird frolic. Many like us are still here trying to come up with a game plan based on shaky, quickly changing data. This is a scenario no one has ever really developed a backup plan for since, nothing like this has happened in our lifetime. The nation is paralyzed in fear and uncertainty. Campgrounds, like the one we work at every summer are closed for the foreseeable future with no firm opening date on the calendar. There are a couple of RV parks designed for full timers around the area we call home, but they are so far unable to accommodate our fluid timeframe. Today, I am hoping the RV park near our kids where we have a tentative reservation through the third week of April will get a cancellation so we can stay there until our job calls us to work. If not, we will be forced to stay put for several more weeks.

Even without the uncertainty of a place to stay, protocol dictates a quarantine period when we arrive back home to avoid the risk of carrying the virus, unwittingly or asymptomatically from the RGV to Iowa.  Most who left ahead of us have made it to their destination safely and are self quarentining. Others are flying by the seat of their pants in limbo between here and their next assignment.  We joke about being houseless, but this is different and a little unsettling to say the least.

We will assess our situation later this week and try to make a good decision based on imperfect data. It will kill us and some of our loved ones at home, emotionally to stay here beyond the 4^th, but it may indeed be the wise thing to do. I was talking to my son yesterday and he said, “Mom, make your decision based on facts and not your emotions.”  WOW! The reality that my sweet little boy is now a 35-year-old man with a family hit me like a boulder.  I wonder if he shuddered when he heard himself say it to me and think. “Oh God, I just sounded like Mom”. 

In the meantime, I’ll sit on my patio in deep south Texas and watch the season change, watch videos of grandkids, look at pictures of past family gatherings, and dream of when we are home and all this nonsense is behind us and evolved into a story to be told around the campfire ten years from now.

Until Next Time….                                      

Insecurities

In the back of all full time RV’ers mind lurks a quiet insecurity. It is a double-edged sword living this life. The freedom of not being tied to a piece of property or the burden of an empty house to maintain is liberating.  This week out of nowhere, I found myself longing for that kind of stability with all its burdens for the first time since we started this adventure nearly 4 years ago. We talked about it one evening and as we talked about the reality of going back to our old life, the weird feelings I had earlier in the day faded quickly, and I realized how normal this life is to me and my feelings of insecurity acutally led to a validation that this life is indeed what I am supposed to be doing. 

There is a certain insecurity in heading to a new job in a new area. Not knowing if we will like the work or if our employer will fulfill their end of the contract as stated. A natural disaster can displace a work camper and sometimes end an assignment leaving us in limbo.  In our first four seasons at this we have dealt with that dynamic three times. A Hurricane nearly nixed our winter job two years ago. Major flooding in Iowa displaced many of the workcampers twice that season, but the park was able to keep us onsite in other areas that were not flooded. We know people who have been displaced by wildfires in the west as well.  Things always worked out.  When a tornado is in the area, we certainly feel insecure, not being able to get underground.  All those things are short-lived, and options are always available to those who are willing to be flexible.

These insecurities are relatively easy to keep tamped down given the fact that assignments are easy to find, and campgrounds are everywhere you look these days. We take a lot for granted on the road. It never occurs to us that when we need something from the store on the road that the store may not have it in stock. It certainly never occurs to us that we won’t be able to find a place to stay on our route or be able to buy gas for the rig whenever we want to.

That all changed this past week. Panic is gripping the entire country. No one has been untouched by the impact of the latest virus. Fear and insecurity are the monster under everyone’s bed lately and no one can stop obsessing about it. The situation we are in today makes the 1,300- mile journey home seem like light years.

My rational mind feels confidant that we will drive away from the Rio Grande Valley in two weeks and get home without any issues. We have decided to caravan with friends here who are headed to the same destination. There is no plan, just a shaky faith that gas stations will have plenty of fuel for us and we will find a safe place to boondock the two nights that we will stop. Our original plan to take six days and visit friends and relatives on the way home is off the table. The name of the game is drive-sleep-drive-sleep and drive one more time. Our job at the Corps Park that we are going into our fourth season with is on hold indefinitely.

The only thing we know for sure today is that we have a reservation at home at a full-service RV park that we have patronized in the past through the third week of April. After that we hope to be able to get our summer season underway at Saylorville. If not, we will have to implement a yet to be determined Plan B.

We keep in touch with others who left before us and are encountering closed areas. I am grateful that we will not be on the road for two more weeks. I am grateful that I have a resourceful, mechanical, reliable husband to travel with. I can’t imagine the feeling of heading out into this strange new world on a solo journey. My thoughts are with those who are making the trip north this week. I work four more shifts at the RV Office and will keep myself sane completing the normal pre-flight checklist. One of the unknowns that is nagging at me most is whether I can buy paper plates to use on the road and restock my toilet paper supply before we leave. But, then no one knows when the illusive TP will reappear on the shelf at the store.

Until next time…

The Exodus

I have joked off and on that if all hell breaks loose, we won’t worry, we are in a motorhome and we’ll just moved out of the way of the chaos. We are in that reality around the country now. The problem is we can't escape this situation like a flood or wildfire or some other natural disaster. The enitre country is shrouded in it. 

This week has been a game changer in the work camping world. I sit here writing, trying to process my thoughts about the situation we are in right now. We have been in parks in the past, that have had extenuating circumstances that impacted the work we were doing for the park. In those situations, we were assured by the park management that they recognized our commitment to the job, the distance we travelled to be there and were not asked to leave. In time the situation settled down and it was back to business as usual. We felt appreciated and welcome despite the difficult circumstances for the park and the work campers.

The Corona Virus Panic arrives in Llano Grande

We are enjoying a zero COVID-19 environment in the Rio Grande Valley, so far. In the past 24 hours we have gone from feeling relatively insulated from the situation to being fully impacted by the threat that is still only academic and speculative in this region. Yesterday, the corporate office followed the trend of other parks in the valley and closed all public areas in the park and cancelled all events for the foreseeable future. What does that mean to workcampers you ask?  Well, if your job involves working in the restaurant, bar, golf course or any other Activities Office function, you were told yesterday that your job had ended and given till the end of the week to either, find work in another department, leave or pay full price for your site for the remainder of your contracted stay. Hmmm.  Champ and I are lucky, in that the office is open so I still have a job, and maintenance is an essential service that continues to operate. Other work campers are not so lucky. The park is completely focused on the all mighty dollar. If you don’t work, you don’t stay. Never mind the season long commitment and hard work. Never mind our next destination may still be buried in snow and ice or the job doesn’t start. Never mind that we contracted to work until March 31^st and contracted to have our site till April 4^th.  Some are facing summer jobs being delayed since the parks have been closed for now. The security of being self-contained is fraying a bit for some with the uncertainty of when and where their next move or job will be. Work campers here are all feeling different levels of anxiety and uncertainty this week. The one common feeling among us here is the feeling that we are not appreciated and are basically in the way and now a burden to the parks bottom line. Not a good feeling. Having worked for only one private park, we don’t know if this is an attitude common among private parks or if it is the attitude of this particular management team. I do know, several people who were planning to return are making other plans for next winter as a result of the abrasive treatment  received from the Volunteer Coordinator as this situation developed. Champ and I have been treated well so far and working hard not to get caught up in the drama.  However, It is hard to watch our co-workers be treated like they couldn’t be less disposable.  

Graham at the IT help desk with over 40 modems turned in by early departees. 

The office is busy with people, many of them Canadians, who have been summoned home by their insurance companies and fears they will not be let back into their home country. Others are leaving to go home and help kids who still have jobs to go to with schools and daycares closed. Some are just panicked and need to be somewhere familiar, so they feel more secure. We had two scheduled check outs yesterday yet processed over 40. 

I watch the updates at home, try to sift the bullshit and rumors from the facts. I go work my hours in the office and smile while people vent their anxiety. I come home and sit it in the lawn chair and decompress.  We visit with the neighbors and are planning communal dinners and get togethers, like the old days when we went camping with our group.  The 90-degree heat has returned and the pools are closed, that really stinks. But, these are the times we live in today. We have it relatively good here compared to many others around the country and for that we are thankful.

I watch the panicked snowbirds fly out of here two to four weeks early and think to myself, it’s like going out in the middle of a blizzard, instead of waiting for the storm to pass and the roads to be plowed. I believe deep in my heart that by early April, when we are set to take flight ourselves that the worst will be over and the dust will be settled. In the mean time, rumors swirl, grocery store shelves are empty for unexplained reasons and a tough situation is revealing the best and the worst of people.

Until next time…

Along the Banks of the Rio Grande

Last Friday, I was given a warm send off by the pharmacy where I have worked part time this winter. My last day was spent going over lastminute things with their new bookkeeper and enjoying the lunch and cake they brought in. There wasn’t much work involved in my last workday. The owners gave me a very nice gift and we took pictures. Even before my last day was complete, I was making plans to do things I have missed out on this winter.

From the left RD, Rubin and Rosemary (owners) Kristy, me, Jessica, Terry, Anita and Melanie

My first excursion was with Judy and Marlin Cook yesterday. Via the network that is travelling, we were introduced through Face Book to Judy and Marlin, by our friends Chuck and Julie, who we met and became friends with, in Florida last winter. The two couples have lived across the road from each other in Maine for decades.  We met in person on Christmas Day when we visited the National Butterfly Center and agreed to see each other again to do some birding.

They took me to Salineno about 100 miles west of our winter digs to a beautiful natural area along the banks of the Rio Grande River. The birding by their standards was mediocre, only confirming 29 species.  To me it was a successful day. I saw three species I had never seen and took some nice photographs. I saw a Crested Cara Cara in flight for the first time and marveled at the magnificent raptor. I got so caught up watching him, I didn’t get a photograph. I have to remind myself from time to time that experience can get lost in trying to get the photograph. There are situations when it is more satisfying to stay ‘in the moment’ and let the memory live in your head.  That was one of those times. I also got to see Blue Winged Teals flying away from us several times and realized how they got their name. I saw my first Altimara Oriole nest. An amazing feat of engineering. At about 3 times the size of a Baltimore Oriole nest, the huge structure hung from the end of a small branch in a tree near the river bank and we all wondered how the weight didn’t break the branch or how it withstood the wind.  I watched a Belted Kingfisher kite above the river in the morning sunlight and saw my first Gray Hawk.

Altimera Oriole nest about 3feet long and 8-10 Inches wide

Black Crested Titmouse a new bird for me

From left Marlin Cook Terri Smelcer, Judy Cook and me. Mexico in the background at Salineno

Bees polinating an Aloe Vera plant in bloom

Red Winged Blackbird Pair 

Green Jay

Great Kiskadee

Mostly I was enchanted by the beautiful river. The Rio Grande is in the news so much now and all we think about are illegal immigrants wading across. Not the case where we were. I shut the news stories out of my thoughts and took in the natural beauty of the area. Having always been drawn to water, I am particularly intrigued with rivers. I stood on the bank and looked across into Mexico. The animals didn’t know there was a political boundary as they hunted and perched and went about their existence. I wondered, why can’t human beings do that? The Osprey that I watched pluck a fish out of river flew to our side with his lunch and perched on top of a utility pole while his head and shoulders dried. Then he took his lunch into Mexico to eat it. All without a passport or customs agent questioning where he got his fish. I was envious for a moment at the freedom of wild animals. The thought of a steel wall standing in the way of being able to experience the river the way I did yesterday makes me sad.

Osprey with his lunch

We stopped in Roma, Texas and walked through the gardens in the historic town established in 1765, then went to see the Rio Grande from the bluffs on the edge of town. Quite a different experience at the river side here compared to the refuge were we spent the morning, but still far removed from the stereotype portrayed on the evening news. Roma is across the river from Miguel-Alaman. There is an international bridge that connects our countries and a wealth of cultural and commerce history between the two cities. I sat on the bluff and watched the town. There was a small city park at the rivers’ edge. I saw a young family enjoying the park and through my binoculars I could watch a little girl swinging on a swingset in her back yard. I watched a woman hanging laundry out to dry on the beautiful sunny 85-degree day and a man a few houses down working on someone’s deck. Not unlike a suburban area in the United States. Again, I wondered why we work so hard to be afraid of each other and create boundaries rather than connections.

Family at the park across the river

Looking West from Roma

Bridge crossing at Roma/ Miguel Alaman

After about 10 hours together we parted ways late in the afternoon with plans to meet again next Wednesday for a guided tour through Estero Llano Grande State Park next door. Our next three weeks pre-flight calendar is filling quickly with people to see and things to do. The pressure is not as bad this time around since we are returning next winter to the same place. Plenty to look forward to.

Until next time….

“We have all winter”.  We say that a dozen times when we arrive at a new winter destination and start getting to know our work camping compadres. We sit around in the afternoon after work and talk about all the things we want to do during the winter before we all flock and head back north. The list becomes long, but we don’t fret to much about because… ‘we have all winter” to do this or that.

As I sat outside having my tea this morning about 6:30 a.m.;  I noticed that the songs of the birds around my site have changed. Warblers are warbling, the Kill Deers are gone and the most noticeable to me is the solitary Red-Wing Blackbirds are now in flocks, preparing for their journey north. Pelicans, who have been abundant all winter on the Resaca behind our sight, are thinning. Not unlike us. I am checking more people out than in at the RV office and my time at the pharmacy, where I have been keeping the books this winter is almost done. We are 4 weeks from lift off. We aren’t packing up just yet, but our minds are definitely in flight mode.

Our days for this season at Llano Grande number under thirty now. We are coming back next winter. We did secure a north facing site, a few streets over, to keep the winter sun from beating in the windshield of the motorhome and turning the front cap into an oven. We are already talking about things we will do next winter that we didn’t get around to this year.  I have a short list of people to see one more time before we leave. There is something about this snowbird lifestyle, six months here, six months there that really make the years start to tick by fast. By fast I mean, NHRA fast, not 70 MPH on the Interstate fast.

We left our kids and grandkids in October with the 5-month absence seeming like an eternity. Then we blinked and woke up this morning are realized our 4^th winter season away from the Midwest is almost over. We will arrive back in Iowa at our nest at good ole’ site number seven in volunteer village in about 40 days. We’ll get together with friends and family and talk about what we want to do next summer and say the same thing we said in November, here in the Rio Grande Valley. “We have all season”. One would think after 4 seasons we would start to realize how quickly it will go. Time will tell.

Until next time…