Three Years Out!

Until that time, we were stuck. Stuck in place, because of my worsening multiple sclerosis. I rely on a Hoyer patient lift that most hotels do not accommodate. (It's a long story and another blog I'll definitely write.) Without reliable places to stay, we stopped even trying to travel.

But we had an idea, and when my wife retired we rolled the dice: We drove across the country to Mesa, Arizona, where we had purchased an accessible RV - over the internet. On that blazing summertime trek, we slept on the floor of our cargo van, convinced that good things lay ahead. There were some crazy, even dangerous, detours along the way, but I'm cutting to the chase here. When at last we arrived and took delivery of the RV, one challenge still remained: whether or not we could actually use it. We knew that the inside of the toy-hauler trailer had an accessible floorplan, but my way in and out would be by going up and down the ramp in back, something I had never actually done. If you don't know what a toy hauler is, it is a trailer to haul smaller vehicles inside, and the rear wall flips completely down into a ramp. A rather steep ramp, but I could do it, theoretically. Now I'd be putting our theory to the test in 107-degree Arizona heat!

Thankfully I passed the test. Even with my head swimming in delirium and my multiple scleroses bubbling inside my skull like a popcorn, I still made it safely to the ground. But no time to celebrate, we had to boogie! We had reservations for the night at our very first campground a couple of hours north of there, at Grand Canyon National Park. After some basic how-to instructions from the dealer, we left and kept our eyes peeled for a large hole in the ground. 

We rolled into the park just before nightfall. That first night was spectacular. We saw the Big Dipper, a shooting star and a satellite passing overhead. Grand Canyon is about the biggest debut a little camper can make, in my book, and knowing the legendary Canyon was out there so nearby in the darkness was a total rush, a childish night-before-Christmas type of excitement. I got my wheelchair stuck in gravel that evening and got a push from a young man from Holland – absolutely a National Parks experience. This camping was OK!

Arches NP.

The wonders did not stop. From there we went to the Arches National Park. Then Mab drove through the Rockies on Interstate 40. Not only were the views stunning to a couple of flatlanders, but she met the challenge of towing through the mountains like a champ. She hardcore. But the highlight of the trip was still to come, seeing my cousin Tina. Growing up we were close, but life goes on and we went apart during our adult lives. In that time she had successfully battled cancer, and we were so excited that she and her wife and son, along with my aunt and uncle (my godparents) came to visit us early one morning at a campground before they all went to work. It was a brief visit but so sweet and touching. It was the last and best part of our exhilarating trip back into the world of travel.

It was about a year later when the cancer came back. That brief, giddy visit, a hurried reunion filled with outsized smiles and enough excited chatter to fill a whole summer's day, turned out to be the last time Tina and I got to see one another. What a gift, and what a great lesson to keep pushing outdoors and keep moving and enjoying the country and its people.

That was three years ago today. There was more to that adventure, some chills and spills to write about later. We were crazy to do it, but we're so glad we did. At times the camper is a whole other set of worries but it's very rewarding. I remember once reading the summary of a medical study pinned on a bulletin board in my first neurologist's office, and seeing the phrase, "Absence of mobility equals morbidity." Stay still for too long and you'll deteriorate, you begin to die. The paper was talking about moving and staying active, but in a similar sense this is where Mab and I are in our lives. The time is right now. The camper, three years ago, was our Declaration of Independence. Now we're leaning into it and pushing hard:

        19 trips, 36 mos., 19 states, 20,170mi.

Here's to the next three years. Look out, we're coming to your town.