December 5, 2009 – Temecula, CA
We’ve been to several RV parks associated with Indian casinos, and their quality has ranged from awful (a casino on Highway 40 in New Mexico) to sublime (Seven Feathers in Canyonville, OR); this one is good, but not great. The grass at each site is nice, the sites are plenty big enough, and there’s no gravel to hurt my tender feet. The walking opportunities, however, are kind of limited. I have to stay on leash almost all the time, and even the dog run requires leashes; what’s with that? How do you run with a leash on and Geri or Don attached to the other end? Doesn’t work for me. Please don’t think I’m a big complainer, consider me a reviewer of RV park quality.
Geri and I met a lady this morning who was walking two Goldies, a boy and a girl, both rescued from shelters. They were lovely, friendly dogs, and the girl was almost white, like my old pal Buddy was. The boy was very smart, and he knew how to sit on someone’s foot while they were being petted so that the petter was unable to move. He knew how to move his snout between a person’s hand and another dog, thus moving the petting action to him. I didn’t think any other dog knew these things. Geri and the lady had a good long talk, though it made me a bit nervous when they talked about adopting abandoned dogs; I don’t want Geri or Don to get any wild ideas. We had to move the coach to another site before leaving on our explorations, as someone else had reserved the site we were on. Don managed the move very crisply and quickly, and we were in the truck and heading out before noon.
Geri wanted to go to a town called Julian, which is up in the mountains south of here, so that’s where we headed. It turned out that Julian was quite a distance away, so the trip took awhile. We stopped at a place called Outdoor Resorts Rancho California, which we had seen ads for in RV magazines, and was related to parks that we had stayed in at Las Vegas and Newport, Oregon. It looked very nice, but they wouldn’t let use cruise through the place. Looked like it was favored by the golfy set; they had a full-sized course there. So, we kept chugging up the hills to Julian. When we finally got there and got out of the truck, we realized that we wouldn’t be here very long; the temperature was in the low 30’s, the wind was blowing fiercely, and Don thought it was going to snow any minute. And the place was packed with tourists! We even had trouble finding a place to park. Julian is famous for its apples and apple pies, so we found a place that sold locally made pies, bought one, got back in the truck, and headed down the hill.
Geri and Don hadn’t had lunch yet, and they were starting to get grouchy about it. I, of course, had demanded mine before we left the RV park. Don was fixated on getting some Mexican food before our little trip was concluded, and we found a little restaurant in Ramona that looked OK. They went in and had their 3:00 PM lunch, and reported that it was excellent and very reasonably priced. The place is called La Cocina, and they recommend it to anyone who is travelling in the area. Garmie did a great job of getting us back to Temecula, where we did a little shopping before returning to the rig. I got a nice dinner right away, my reward for spending most of the day couped up in the back of the truck.
Geri and Don decided that they couldn’t leave Pechanga without making a contribution to the welfare of the tribe by visiting the casino, so they called the shuttle and shuttled over there. They came back a few hours later, a little pleased with themselves; Geri had kept her losses to a minimum, and Don had walked away with several months worth of dog food in winnings. Good for them!
Tomorrow we head for home. This has been a fun little trip, we’ve been able to explore some parts of our region that we hadn’t seen before, we’ve partied with relatives and friends, we’ve met nice people that we probably will never see again, and I’ve been complimented on my manners and appearance endlessly. What more can you ask for? I’ll give you a little wrap-up tomorrow! Nite, all!
Saturday, December 5, 2009
Friday, December 4, 2009
December 4, 2009 – Yuma to Temecula, CA
Well, it had to happen; we finally tore ourselves away from the comfortable arms of Yuma and headed back to California. It was kind of hard to do. The paw-dragging was so evident that we didn’t get underway until well after the normal check-out time of eleven AM. We really did enjoy this place, finding something new and different to do every day, and revisiting places that we had previously enjoyed. But we finally hooked up the truck and cranked up the diesel, heading down Highway 8 toward California. We intended to have a brief fuel stop at a Love’s in Yuma, but it turned into something else. The truck area was a madhouse, filled with truckers topping off before getting into the more highly taxed fueling stops in California. We sat behind a 18 wheeler for about 15 minutes, with no action seen in their fueling. Geri finally went to investigate, and found that the driver had been in the payment line for nearly a half hour, waiting for his check to clear. This prompted Geri to head for the payment line pronto, and she was near the head of the line when Don saw a chance to move to an empty pump next to the line he was in. Geri saw the switch, got the credit card approved, and we were pumping, finally. On the road for real at noon.
We sped past the sand dunes where old Highway 80 had used a road built of wooden planks to provide a roadbed, unfortunately wide enough only for one vehicle. If you encountered a car going the other way, the one closest to a widened turnout section had to back up to allow passage for the other vehicle. I understand there were disputes involved. We ran alongside the All American Canal for part of the way to El Centro. This is a big canal. It looks like it carries more water than the Colorado does at Yuma. The end result of this water shows up in the massive produce fields around El Centro and throughout the Imperial Valley. Gotta interrupt and say hi to our friend and neighbor Joe, husband of Temptress Debbie, whose home town is here in El Centro. We understand why you love Ventura, Joe. We headed up into the mountains that separate the Imperial Valley from the coastal area. These are some of the most spectacular hills we have ever seen, they look like gigantic rock piles that had been assembled by a race of monsters who amused themselves just by piling rocks on top of rocks. Huge boulders! Don said that he wanted to study geology just to find out how these hills came into being. We made a stop at a rest area on the downhill slope, which I kind of needed for a number of reasons. I met a guy who was on his way to Memphis; Don told him that I loved Tennessee, and would be happy to travel with him, and he and Geri started to walk back to the rig. I didn’t panic, but I thought it wise to leave the guy and follow them back to the coach.
We wound down the hill to the San Diego area, encountering increasing traffic as we went. When we hit Highway 15, we headed north through Los Angeles style traffic and suburban areas that weren’t here the last time we came through. We pulled into the Pechanga RV Resort in Temecula, a lovely spot with lots of grass at each site, which I’m sure I will enjoy. Don got the rig set up and fixed some pasta, resulting in great plates for me. We decided to hang out in the rig tonight, do our exploring tomorrow. Hope you have a good night, too!
Well, it had to happen; we finally tore ourselves away from the comfortable arms of Yuma and headed back to California. It was kind of hard to do. The paw-dragging was so evident that we didn’t get underway until well after the normal check-out time of eleven AM. We really did enjoy this place, finding something new and different to do every day, and revisiting places that we had previously enjoyed. But we finally hooked up the truck and cranked up the diesel, heading down Highway 8 toward California. We intended to have a brief fuel stop at a Love’s in Yuma, but it turned into something else. The truck area was a madhouse, filled with truckers topping off before getting into the more highly taxed fueling stops in California. We sat behind a 18 wheeler for about 15 minutes, with no action seen in their fueling. Geri finally went to investigate, and found that the driver had been in the payment line for nearly a half hour, waiting for his check to clear. This prompted Geri to head for the payment line pronto, and she was near the head of the line when Don saw a chance to move to an empty pump next to the line he was in. Geri saw the switch, got the credit card approved, and we were pumping, finally. On the road for real at noon.
We sped past the sand dunes where old Highway 80 had used a road built of wooden planks to provide a roadbed, unfortunately wide enough only for one vehicle. If you encountered a car going the other way, the one closest to a widened turnout section had to back up to allow passage for the other vehicle. I understand there were disputes involved. We ran alongside the All American Canal for part of the way to El Centro. This is a big canal. It looks like it carries more water than the Colorado does at Yuma. The end result of this water shows up in the massive produce fields around El Centro and throughout the Imperial Valley. Gotta interrupt and say hi to our friend and neighbor Joe, husband of Temptress Debbie, whose home town is here in El Centro. We understand why you love Ventura, Joe. We headed up into the mountains that separate the Imperial Valley from the coastal area. These are some of the most spectacular hills we have ever seen, they look like gigantic rock piles that had been assembled by a race of monsters who amused themselves just by piling rocks on top of rocks. Huge boulders! Don said that he wanted to study geology just to find out how these hills came into being. We made a stop at a rest area on the downhill slope, which I kind of needed for a number of reasons. I met a guy who was on his way to Memphis; Don told him that I loved Tennessee, and would be happy to travel with him, and he and Geri started to walk back to the rig. I didn’t panic, but I thought it wise to leave the guy and follow them back to the coach.
We wound down the hill to the San Diego area, encountering increasing traffic as we went. When we hit Highway 15, we headed north through Los Angeles style traffic and suburban areas that weren’t here the last time we came through. We pulled into the Pechanga RV Resort in Temecula, a lovely spot with lots of grass at each site, which I’m sure I will enjoy. Don got the rig set up and fixed some pasta, resulting in great plates for me. We decided to hang out in the rig tonight, do our exploring tomorrow. Hope you have a good night, too!
Thursday, December 3, 2009
December 3, 2009 – Yuma, AZ
An early morning for all of us; the coach washers and waxers were due to show up at eight this morning, and we had to be properly prepared to receive them. I even got fed my breakfast early. Don headed over for the shower, and was back in a few minutes; they were cleaning the rest rooms and showers at seven in the morning. What gives with that? Geri was up before seven and swilling coffee. We were all on track to greet the washers at eight; they arrived at seven-thirty. A mad dash to close windows and roof vents, and to get into proper clothing to deal with coach washers. Turns out there was no need to deal with them. They washed the coach from top to bottom in a little over a half hour, told us the waxers would be there later when the rig had dried, and took off. After an hour or so of dithering over whether or not to wait for the waxers, the decision was made to take me out for an excursion, have breakfast in Yuma, and come back to check on the waxing. So we got in the truck and headed down the highway to the Gateway Park in town, next to the river. I have to say, I was most pleased with their selection of walking venues; the grass there is very good, and lots of open space for wild running. So I ran; and ran, and ran, and rolled! I must have put on a fine performance, ‘cause Geri and Don were both applauding heartily. As we were walking next to the river, we met a couple with a Border Collie. I always feel a little humbled when I meet one of these dogs, as I am fully aware of their intelligence and work ethic. This lady was very friendly and animated, and happy to meet not only me, but also Geri and Don. She was pleasingly plump and very pretty; she and her folks were from British Columbia, some of the “Snowbirds” I mentioned yesterday. She dashed off down to the river to investigate a mudhole, then found a sandy area to roll in; she came back a little messy. After we went our separate ways, I heard Don say, “I’ll stick with the Goldie”. Made me feel good.
After our walk, we drove over to the Visitor Center to get some more information on the location of the dam that Don had never heard of, Laguna Dam. We got some maps and other info, then went back downtown to a restaurant, the Mad Chef, for them to have breakfast. I took a good nap, a little worn out from my exercising. When they returned from what they described as a great meal, we headed back to the coach to check on the waxing. When we got there, we found one lone young man standing on top of a ladder, working on the side of the rig. He was close to being done, and the coach looked great, shiny as a new one. Geri paid him for the work, and we took off to look for Laguna Dam.
Don decided to start our search on the east side of the river, and we drove through miles of fields of beautiful lettuce and cauliflower and other veggies until we saw a road called “Imperial Dam Road”. This didn’t set well with Don, as Imperial Dam is above Laguna Dam on the river. But off we went on it. We soon found that we were in the Army’s Yuma Proving Ground, where they test tanks and guns and other weapons. We came across a display area where there a bunch of tanks, guns and missiles, and of course we had to stop and look them over. Actually, they were pretty interesting. They had a Sherman tank from WWII in the collection, and you could actually see the marks where it had been hit with big bullets during the war! Don took some pics which I’m sure he will post.
We continued up the road until we finally found Imperial Dam, which Don dubbed the least impressive Colorado River Dam. I guess he’s right, it’s very low and just seems to wander all over the place. He took a few pictures of what could be seen, but that’s not much. He explained to Geri and I that it only serves to raise the elevation of the river behind it a few feet to allow it to feed the All American Canal, which provides irrigation water to the Imperial Valley in California, so it’s not a big hydro generator or flood reservoir. We headed back south on the California side, and passed a water control gate located on the west side of the river. Geri asked if that could be part of Laguna Dam, but Don didn’t think so. We wandered back through more fertile fields of veggies to highway 8, and back into Yuma. A quick stop for Geri to shop for groceries and to flash her Discover Card again, and we headed for home.
Don was searching Google Earth later in the evening, looking for Laguna Dam, when he saw something he recognized; a water control gate next to the road that we had travelled. It was on the west end of Laguna Dam, which showed up clearly on the screen. He showed it to Geri, who concurred with his evaluation. He will go to bed happy tonight, because he has now visited every dam on the dammed Colorado River. Hope you have a good night, too. Bye!
An early morning for all of us; the coach washers and waxers were due to show up at eight this morning, and we had to be properly prepared to receive them. I even got fed my breakfast early. Don headed over for the shower, and was back in a few minutes; they were cleaning the rest rooms and showers at seven in the morning. What gives with that? Geri was up before seven and swilling coffee. We were all on track to greet the washers at eight; they arrived at seven-thirty. A mad dash to close windows and roof vents, and to get into proper clothing to deal with coach washers. Turns out there was no need to deal with them. They washed the coach from top to bottom in a little over a half hour, told us the waxers would be there later when the rig had dried, and took off. After an hour or so of dithering over whether or not to wait for the waxers, the decision was made to take me out for an excursion, have breakfast in Yuma, and come back to check on the waxing. So we got in the truck and headed down the highway to the Gateway Park in town, next to the river. I have to say, I was most pleased with their selection of walking venues; the grass there is very good, and lots of open space for wild running. So I ran; and ran, and ran, and rolled! I must have put on a fine performance, ‘cause Geri and Don were both applauding heartily. As we were walking next to the river, we met a couple with a Border Collie. I always feel a little humbled when I meet one of these dogs, as I am fully aware of their intelligence and work ethic. This lady was very friendly and animated, and happy to meet not only me, but also Geri and Don. She was pleasingly plump and very pretty; she and her folks were from British Columbia, some of the “Snowbirds” I mentioned yesterday. She dashed off down to the river to investigate a mudhole, then found a sandy area to roll in; she came back a little messy. After we went our separate ways, I heard Don say, “I’ll stick with the Goldie”. Made me feel good.
After our walk, we drove over to the Visitor Center to get some more information on the location of the dam that Don had never heard of, Laguna Dam. We got some maps and other info, then went back downtown to a restaurant, the Mad Chef, for them to have breakfast. I took a good nap, a little worn out from my exercising. When they returned from what they described as a great meal, we headed back to the coach to check on the waxing. When we got there, we found one lone young man standing on top of a ladder, working on the side of the rig. He was close to being done, and the coach looked great, shiny as a new one. Geri paid him for the work, and we took off to look for Laguna Dam.
Don decided to start our search on the east side of the river, and we drove through miles of fields of beautiful lettuce and cauliflower and other veggies until we saw a road called “Imperial Dam Road”. This didn’t set well with Don, as Imperial Dam is above Laguna Dam on the river. But off we went on it. We soon found that we were in the Army’s Yuma Proving Ground, where they test tanks and guns and other weapons. We came across a display area where there a bunch of tanks, guns and missiles, and of course we had to stop and look them over. Actually, they were pretty interesting. They had a Sherman tank from WWII in the collection, and you could actually see the marks where it had been hit with big bullets during the war! Don took some pics which I’m sure he will post.
We continued up the road until we finally found Imperial Dam, which Don dubbed the least impressive Colorado River Dam. I guess he’s right, it’s very low and just seems to wander all over the place. He took a few pictures of what could be seen, but that’s not much. He explained to Geri and I that it only serves to raise the elevation of the river behind it a few feet to allow it to feed the All American Canal, which provides irrigation water to the Imperial Valley in California, so it’s not a big hydro generator or flood reservoir. We headed back south on the California side, and passed a water control gate located on the west side of the river. Geri asked if that could be part of Laguna Dam, but Don didn’t think so. We wandered back through more fertile fields of veggies to highway 8, and back into Yuma. A quick stop for Geri to shop for groceries and to flash her Discover Card again, and we headed for home.
Don was searching Google Earth later in the evening, looking for Laguna Dam, when he saw something he recognized; a water control gate next to the road that we had travelled. It was on the west end of Laguna Dam, which showed up clearly on the screen. He showed it to Geri, who concurred with his evaluation. He will go to bed happy tonight, because he has now visited every dam on the dammed Colorado River. Hope you have a good night, too. Bye!
Wednesday, December 2, 2009
December 2, 2009 – Yuma, AZ
There is a general reluctance in this group to leave Yuma. The weather is great, we find new things of interest every day, our RV Park is very nice, and the general feeling is very relaxing. We’re sleeping later (except for Don this morning) and moving slower. Like this morning, we finally got in the truck and got moving around eleven. Oh, yeah, I had gotten a perfunctory walk for the purposes of my toilet activities earlier, and I understood that major walks would be a part of the day’s excursions, so I didn’t register any complaints.
We struck out to find a date farm on the east end of town, and made our way to it pretty easily. Geri and Don had their minds set on having some date milkshakes, and they got their wish. They usually stop at Charlie Brown’s in Littlerock when we’re on our way to or from Las Vegas and get date shakes there; today’s product of Martha’s Garden apparently beat old Charlie into the dust. Don augmented his shake with a premium hot dog that he found especially praiseworthy. I didn’t get a bite of anything, but I had been given my lunch before we left, so I couldn’t complain too much. We then headed for the park along the river where the burrowing owls and hummingbirds are featured performers. Unfortunately, after a half hour of tramping through the underbrush along the river, not a burrow nor an owl was to be seen. We were a little more fortunate with the hummers, as two of them showed up to perform for us. But I had a good time exploring new environs and collecting strange smells for my catalogue.
We made our way back into town to find a historical museum that they wanted to visit; it was located in an old home built by a guy by the name of Sanguinetti back in the 1880’s. I think Geri was interested in Yuma’s Italian connection. They spent about an hour in the place, and came back to the truck full of stories that they had picked up there. Apparently this Sanguinetti guy was a real workaholic who got into every line of business available in Yuma during that period, and pursued them all very successfully. He ran a general store, invested in mining operations, grew cotton, contracted with the railroads to feed cattle in shipment, and a long list of other stuff. He lived to a ripe old age and died very wealthy; great Italian story.
Then we spent some time chasing down an RV Park that Geri had read about, located on the river and incorporating a golf course. It’s owned and operated by an Indian tribe, the Cocopah’s. Unfortunately, a miscommunication with Garmie brought us to a casino owned by the same tribe, about halfway to the Mexican border. Further consultation with Garmie set things right, and we finally found the RV Park, which we all adjudged to be below our standards. The golf course looked nice, though. It was getting time to head for home, but we had to stop at a supermarket for some of Geri’s needs. Her experience in attempting to pay for her purchases with her Discover Card and extract some cash in the deal is far to complex for this journal; let us only say that it was not pretty.
We headed back for the rig, and no one was really hungry, except for me. I guess I’m always hungry! They nibbled on some leftovers, and then got their swim suits on and head for the spa. They were back in just a few minutes; the spa was out of order. Oh, well, into each life some rain must fall. We’re going to hit the hay early tonight, we’ve got a crew coming in at eight tomorrow morning to wash and wax the rig. Should be interesting! See you tomorrow!
There is a general reluctance in this group to leave Yuma. The weather is great, we find new things of interest every day, our RV Park is very nice, and the general feeling is very relaxing. We’re sleeping later (except for Don this morning) and moving slower. Like this morning, we finally got in the truck and got moving around eleven. Oh, yeah, I had gotten a perfunctory walk for the purposes of my toilet activities earlier, and I understood that major walks would be a part of the day’s excursions, so I didn’t register any complaints.
We struck out to find a date farm on the east end of town, and made our way to it pretty easily. Geri and Don had their minds set on having some date milkshakes, and they got their wish. They usually stop at Charlie Brown’s in Littlerock when we’re on our way to or from Las Vegas and get date shakes there; today’s product of Martha’s Garden apparently beat old Charlie into the dust. Don augmented his shake with a premium hot dog that he found especially praiseworthy. I didn’t get a bite of anything, but I had been given my lunch before we left, so I couldn’t complain too much. We then headed for the park along the river where the burrowing owls and hummingbirds are featured performers. Unfortunately, after a half hour of tramping through the underbrush along the river, not a burrow nor an owl was to be seen. We were a little more fortunate with the hummers, as two of them showed up to perform for us. But I had a good time exploring new environs and collecting strange smells for my catalogue.
We made our way back into town to find a historical museum that they wanted to visit; it was located in an old home built by a guy by the name of Sanguinetti back in the 1880’s. I think Geri was interested in Yuma’s Italian connection. They spent about an hour in the place, and came back to the truck full of stories that they had picked up there. Apparently this Sanguinetti guy was a real workaholic who got into every line of business available in Yuma during that period, and pursued them all very successfully. He ran a general store, invested in mining operations, grew cotton, contracted with the railroads to feed cattle in shipment, and a long list of other stuff. He lived to a ripe old age and died very wealthy; great Italian story.
Then we spent some time chasing down an RV Park that Geri had read about, located on the river and incorporating a golf course. It’s owned and operated by an Indian tribe, the Cocopah’s. Unfortunately, a miscommunication with Garmie brought us to a casino owned by the same tribe, about halfway to the Mexican border. Further consultation with Garmie set things right, and we finally found the RV Park, which we all adjudged to be below our standards. The golf course looked nice, though. It was getting time to head for home, but we had to stop at a supermarket for some of Geri’s needs. Her experience in attempting to pay for her purchases with her Discover Card and extract some cash in the deal is far to complex for this journal; let us only say that it was not pretty.
We headed back for the rig, and no one was really hungry, except for me. I guess I’m always hungry! They nibbled on some leftovers, and then got their swim suits on and head for the spa. They were back in just a few minutes; the spa was out of order. Oh, well, into each life some rain must fall. We’re going to hit the hay early tonight, we’ve got a crew coming in at eight tomorrow morning to wash and wax the rig. Should be interesting! See you tomorrow!
Tuesday, December 1, 2009
December 1, 2009 – Yuma, AZ
I gotta say, we love the weather here; it gets a little cool at night, but daytime it’s just right. Geri took me out for a short walk this morning while Don was showering, and I really didn’t want to get back in the rig, it was so nice out. Later in the morning, Don took me to a park in town, but the grass was really bad, and I didn’t really feel like rolling in it. We went back to the coach and picked up Geri and went back into town to a street fair. They had visited Yuma a long time ago (before I was born) and they were amazed at how much it had grown. They said it was just a dusty little backwater when they were here, with a sadly neglected downtown area and a few broken down trailer parks. Now there are at least two dozen RV parks, catering primarily to the people who migrate down from the north (where I was born) for the winter. They call themselves “Snowbirds”. The downtown area has been nicely renovated, and looks really spiffy. There are new shopping centers and other businesses to support the expanded population, which Geri says is almost a quarter million people! We’re all glad to see the town doing so well.
The street fair was a lot of fun, particularly for me, as many people stopped to say hello, admire, and pet me. One lady said that I was the most beautiful dog she had ever seen! Don got some tortilla chips with cheese (they’re called nachos) at sidewalk stand, and stood there eating them in front of me. Some of the people passing by shamed him into sharing with me, and I’m glad they did; the chips were really good! We got back to the truck and headed across an old bridge over the Colorado River; it was so narrow that it had traffic lights on each end to let traffic going each way to have the bridge to themselves; a one-lane bridge! We came back across to the Yuma side, and went to a park next to the river. Great grass! I went running and rolling all over the place, as I was starting to have grass withdrawal symptoms. We met a man walking his little dog, whose name was Daisy, the same as one of my friends across the street at home. She was a nice little dog, and we got along well.
Back in the truck, we drove down along the river to another park, a really big one, that had all kinds of wildlife habitats in it, like burrowing owls and other kinds of birds. There was a kiddies playground that looked like it had a castle in the middle of it! We all agreed that we’d like to spend more time there, but there were too many more things to see in Yuma. So we were off to the Quartermaster Corps base near downtown. I had to stay in the truck because of a stupid no dogs policy; I was a little miffed, ‘cause I could see the grass in the open areas between the buildings, and it looked beautiful. Geri and Don spent almost an hour in there, and came back to tell me about it. Turns out that this base had been established back in the 1850’s to supply the forts that were set up for the protection of immigrants who were heading westward along the southern trails to California. They even had steamboats going up and down the Colorado River carrying supplies to the forts. The Bureau of Reclamation also had maintained and office there, and Don was shocked to learn in their exhibit that there was a dam on the river that he wasn’t aware of! And he’s such a know-it-all. He also learned that there had been constructed a huge desalination plant next to the river in Yuma, but it had never been staffed or operated. Don says he wants to get more information on this.
We made a short stop at the Yuma Railroad station, and saw the three passenger cars and one switch engine that constitutes the operation. Don talked to an engineer who was working on the engine, and found out that it was an all-volunteer operation, and they had been running excursions down to near the Mexican border. They were going to resume operation in February, after some track repair was completed. Don was curious about the engine, as it was identical to the one that operated on the Stockton, Terminal and Eastern Line back when he was a kid, and had almost run him down while he was riding his motorcycle on the railroad tracks. The engineer told him that this model had been built for many years, back to the forties, (that’s 1940’s, for youngun’s like me).
We stopped by the entrance to the Yuma Territorial Prison, which Geri and Don had visited years ago, and which did not accept canine tourists. They like the view from the parking lot, looking over the river to the mountains beyond. A workman of Hispanic origin accosted them, and proceeded to explain the work that his company was doing in clearing extraneous greenery out of the park next to the river below the penitentiary. Don told me later that he was worry that the guy didn’t stick to speaking Spanish, as it would have been easier for him to understand than his mix of Spanglish.
My beneficent humans decided to visit the local Cracker Barrel for dinner, but took pity on me by breaking out some emergency dog rations that Don had stowed in the truck some years ago, just to keep me from starving to death. They emerged from the place after about an hour, and seemed pleased with the experience. We headed home to work on the blog, which seemed to take an unusually long time, and then headed for bed. There’s talk of staying here another day; well, why not? It’s a really nice place! See you manana!
I gotta say, we love the weather here; it gets a little cool at night, but daytime it’s just right. Geri took me out for a short walk this morning while Don was showering, and I really didn’t want to get back in the rig, it was so nice out. Later in the morning, Don took me to a park in town, but the grass was really bad, and I didn’t really feel like rolling in it. We went back to the coach and picked up Geri and went back into town to a street fair. They had visited Yuma a long time ago (before I was born) and they were amazed at how much it had grown. They said it was just a dusty little backwater when they were here, with a sadly neglected downtown area and a few broken down trailer parks. Now there are at least two dozen RV parks, catering primarily to the people who migrate down from the north (where I was born) for the winter. They call themselves “Snowbirds”. The downtown area has been nicely renovated, and looks really spiffy. There are new shopping centers and other businesses to support the expanded population, which Geri says is almost a quarter million people! We’re all glad to see the town doing so well.
The street fair was a lot of fun, particularly for me, as many people stopped to say hello, admire, and pet me. One lady said that I was the most beautiful dog she had ever seen! Don got some tortilla chips with cheese (they’re called nachos) at sidewalk stand, and stood there eating them in front of me. Some of the people passing by shamed him into sharing with me, and I’m glad they did; the chips were really good! We got back to the truck and headed across an old bridge over the Colorado River; it was so narrow that it had traffic lights on each end to let traffic going each way to have the bridge to themselves; a one-lane bridge! We came back across to the Yuma side, and went to a park next to the river. Great grass! I went running and rolling all over the place, as I was starting to have grass withdrawal symptoms. We met a man walking his little dog, whose name was Daisy, the same as one of my friends across the street at home. She was a nice little dog, and we got along well.
Back in the truck, we drove down along the river to another park, a really big one, that had all kinds of wildlife habitats in it, like burrowing owls and other kinds of birds. There was a kiddies playground that looked like it had a castle in the middle of it! We all agreed that we’d like to spend more time there, but there were too many more things to see in Yuma. So we were off to the Quartermaster Corps base near downtown. I had to stay in the truck because of a stupid no dogs policy; I was a little miffed, ‘cause I could see the grass in the open areas between the buildings, and it looked beautiful. Geri and Don spent almost an hour in there, and came back to tell me about it. Turns out that this base had been established back in the 1850’s to supply the forts that were set up for the protection of immigrants who were heading westward along the southern trails to California. They even had steamboats going up and down the Colorado River carrying supplies to the forts. The Bureau of Reclamation also had maintained and office there, and Don was shocked to learn in their exhibit that there was a dam on the river that he wasn’t aware of! And he’s such a know-it-all. He also learned that there had been constructed a huge desalination plant next to the river in Yuma, but it had never been staffed or operated. Don says he wants to get more information on this.
We made a short stop at the Yuma Railroad station, and saw the three passenger cars and one switch engine that constitutes the operation. Don talked to an engineer who was working on the engine, and found out that it was an all-volunteer operation, and they had been running excursions down to near the Mexican border. They were going to resume operation in February, after some track repair was completed. Don was curious about the engine, as it was identical to the one that operated on the Stockton, Terminal and Eastern Line back when he was a kid, and had almost run him down while he was riding his motorcycle on the railroad tracks. The engineer told him that this model had been built for many years, back to the forties, (that’s 1940’s, for youngun’s like me).
We stopped by the entrance to the Yuma Territorial Prison, which Geri and Don had visited years ago, and which did not accept canine tourists. They like the view from the parking lot, looking over the river to the mountains beyond. A workman of Hispanic origin accosted them, and proceeded to explain the work that his company was doing in clearing extraneous greenery out of the park next to the river below the penitentiary. Don told me later that he was worry that the guy didn’t stick to speaking Spanish, as it would have been easier for him to understand than his mix of Spanglish.
My beneficent humans decided to visit the local Cracker Barrel for dinner, but took pity on me by breaking out some emergency dog rations that Don had stowed in the truck some years ago, just to keep me from starving to death. They emerged from the place after about an hour, and seemed pleased with the experience. We headed home to work on the blog, which seemed to take an unusually long time, and then headed for bed. There’s talk of staying here another day; well, why not? It’s a really nice place! See you manana!
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