Thursday, April 27, 2006
STICKER SHOCK (RV Style)
When we started this business, diesel sold for $1.05 a gallon, and SKP's parks charged about $8-10 per night. We thought the parks were a bargain. The fuel seemed expensive, even then.
Today the fuel is selling at slightly more than $3, and the park charged us $17 (plus $2 more for electricity) per night.
Our income, by the way, hasn't increased at all.
I read an article in the paper (USA TODAY) detailing how the price of fuel will consume 15% of the money of most families earning less than $30,000 a year. Also how 70% of the wealth of this country is owned by only 10% of the people, and the bottom 50% of income folks own only 10% of the total capital of the country. An editorial further opined that there is almost certain open class warfare to be coming down the pike on such issues as health care, retirement benefits, transportation costs---the big ones. The article is very forthright in stating, no quibbles, that the cost of retirement benefits is something which our government (and people) can no longer afford. Well, sobering.
But these are not academic discussion points when you find yourselves among the folks who can't afford to freely travel. (Especially when you have wheels on your home).
The desert is beautiful though. The palo verde is in bright yellow bloom. Those readers who've never experienced it, might be more familiar with the forsythia bushes at home. The yellow is the same, but these are whole TREES festooned with this yellow, and whole stands, and whole swaths of brilliant yellow stretching out across the desert. The ocotillo are bright green, tipped with brilliant red flowers at their tips ("desert candle" plants). And along the roadsides are whole barries planted with bushes that are in bloom from top to bottom: pink and reds, sometimes whites. I can't recall anything east of the Mississippi which even begins to compare, excepting in small measure, the dogwoods of North Carolina.
I guess it's worth a little money to be able to experience such surroundings.
DW
When we started this business, diesel sold for $1.05 a gallon, and SKP's parks charged about $8-10 per night. We thought the parks were a bargain. The fuel seemed expensive, even then.
Today the fuel is selling at slightly more than $3, and the park charged us $17 (plus $2 more for electricity) per night.
Our income, by the way, hasn't increased at all.
I read an article in the paper (USA TODAY) detailing how the price of fuel will consume 15% of the money of most families earning less than $30,000 a year. Also how 70% of the wealth of this country is owned by only 10% of the people, and the bottom 50% of income folks own only 10% of the total capital of the country. An editorial further opined that there is almost certain open class warfare to be coming down the pike on such issues as health care, retirement benefits, transportation costs---the big ones. The article is very forthright in stating, no quibbles, that the cost of retirement benefits is something which our government (and people) can no longer afford. Well, sobering.
But these are not academic discussion points when you find yourselves among the folks who can't afford to freely travel. (Especially when you have wheels on your home).
The desert is beautiful though. The palo verde is in bright yellow bloom. Those readers who've never experienced it, might be more familiar with the forsythia bushes at home. The yellow is the same, but these are whole TREES festooned with this yellow, and whole stands, and whole swaths of brilliant yellow stretching out across the desert. The ocotillo are bright green, tipped with brilliant red flowers at their tips ("desert candle" plants). And along the roadsides are whole barries planted with bushes that are in bloom from top to bottom: pink and reds, sometimes whites. I can't recall anything east of the Mississippi which even begins to compare, excepting in small measure, the dogwoods of North Carolina.
I guess it's worth a little money to be able to experience such surroundings.
DW
Thursday, April 20, 2006
Yuma, Yuma, Yuma....
Some people love it. Some people, like me, can't see a reason for it to exist. Of all things, it has a Marine Corps station at it. (Navy on the inside, air force on the outside, and Marines where --who knows?) It's hot, flat, dusty, windy....let's see, are there any other good things I can say about it?
We're here---too long---'cause we're waiting and waiting for a "Mexican Dental Connection" for Pat. She had an appointment two days ago, but fell ill, and now, delayed, we're hoping against hope that the remainder of our domino schedule won't all fall down as a consequence.
This is a little dinky park, south of the "city," and in the middle of orange groves. I hear the rumble of distant jets occasionally, but otherwise it's quiet. OH! There is ONE advantage, at least. The quiet is a relief from hectic Gold Canyon and busy Highway 60. I think that if we're never near heavy traffic again, it might still be too soon. The incessant roar in the distance, even, robs you of peace of mind, but does it in a subtle, subliminal way. Most of the folks at this park have already departed for parts northward; seems like a reasonable thing to have done.
While here, I'm trying to keep ahead of all the little rig problems that have cropped up. While smaller, it is somewhat more complex than a stationary home, and all those little details eventually act up.
My latest book---oh, that's another advantage! Time enough to read again... Anyway, it's Goodwin's Lincoln, Team of Rivals. A huge tome, 110 pages of references, alone, still it's delightfully well written, easy to read, and makes me feel, once more, that our American History in the old days was little more than self-righteous propaganda.
Some people love it. Some people, like me, can't see a reason for it to exist. Of all things, it has a Marine Corps station at it. (Navy on the inside, air force on the outside, and Marines where --who knows?) It's hot, flat, dusty, windy....let's see, are there any other good things I can say about it?
We're here---too long---'cause we're waiting and waiting for a "Mexican Dental Connection" for Pat. She had an appointment two days ago, but fell ill, and now, delayed, we're hoping against hope that the remainder of our domino schedule won't all fall down as a consequence.
This is a little dinky park, south of the "city," and in the middle of orange groves. I hear the rumble of distant jets occasionally, but otherwise it's quiet. OH! There is ONE advantage, at least. The quiet is a relief from hectic Gold Canyon and busy Highway 60. I think that if we're never near heavy traffic again, it might still be too soon. The incessant roar in the distance, even, robs you of peace of mind, but does it in a subtle, subliminal way. Most of the folks at this park have already departed for parts northward; seems like a reasonable thing to have done.
While here, I'm trying to keep ahead of all the little rig problems that have cropped up. While smaller, it is somewhat more complex than a stationary home, and all those little details eventually act up.
My latest book---oh, that's another advantage! Time enough to read again... Anyway, it's Goodwin's Lincoln, Team of Rivals. A huge tome, 110 pages of references, alone, still it's delightfully well written, easy to read, and makes me feel, once more, that our American History in the old days was little more than self-righteous propaganda.
Saturday, April 08, 2006
Leaving Gold Canyon (Loving and Leaving Gold Canyon)
To borrow a title from Otto Nearing, it's been a grand three years and leaving this place will be sorrow-filled on many fronts. We've not spent as much time (since starting our full-time RV life) in any other place, nor enjoyed as many diverse activities, friends, or had as many visitors. The climate, during the time we're here, at least, is incomparable, and despite the bad press many visitors and tenants of the Phoenix Valley give the area, I've always found the city to be energizing, entertaining, and relatively easy-to-navigate.
Okay, why leave? Well, you really CAN'T stay here in the summer, not easily or comfortably. Staying here at this resort without work-kamping is also not a very realistic option (expensive and more so each year), and this is not an optimal resort to live in any case. Not for an RV'er.
We're searching for a place where year-round living is at least a very real possibility, and one in which the expense is more realistic as well as more likely to remain that way.
A recent visit back to Temecula, California, finds the SKP's resort there to be a likely candidate. There is absolutely no way to "know" for certain without trying it out, however. So, try it we will, and we are pretty much constrained to do so when our waiting-list number comes up---which should be in the next 6-7 months, most likely.
It's a hard comparison to make, really; cooler both in summer and winter than here, it's also a "bit" too hot for summer comfort, possibly a "bit" cool for winter enjoyment, but possibly the compromises make both seasons possible. It has more vegetation (more rainfall), but this means, well, more rainfall, less shiny days. More diversity of topography and plants. But it lacks the wonderful Superstition Mountains, that wellspring of almost unlimited grand desert hikes; lacks the great desert plant variety of the Sonoran desert. And that's just the climate: there's a whole different mindset (all RV's, no house-type park-models), smaller: the differences go on and on.
The ultimate philosophical question always remains---in my mind---of how, and why? we choose what we choose as a place to live. It's one of endless fascination to me. I always appreciate hearing from anybody else the reasons behind THEIR particular choice. As long as a choice is freely made, there isn't a wrong one, I feel. But it's sad when people are in a place they do NOT want to be, for external (job, family) reasons that compell this choice.
To borrow a title from Otto Nearing, it's been a grand three years and leaving this place will be sorrow-filled on many fronts. We've not spent as much time (since starting our full-time RV life) in any other place, nor enjoyed as many diverse activities, friends, or had as many visitors. The climate, during the time we're here, at least, is incomparable, and despite the bad press many visitors and tenants of the Phoenix Valley give the area, I've always found the city to be energizing, entertaining, and relatively easy-to-navigate.
Okay, why leave? Well, you really CAN'T stay here in the summer, not easily or comfortably. Staying here at this resort without work-kamping is also not a very realistic option (expensive and more so each year), and this is not an optimal resort to live in any case. Not for an RV'er.
We're searching for a place where year-round living is at least a very real possibility, and one in which the expense is more realistic as well as more likely to remain that way.
A recent visit back to Temecula, California, finds the SKP's resort there to be a likely candidate. There is absolutely no way to "know" for certain without trying it out, however. So, try it we will, and we are pretty much constrained to do so when our waiting-list number comes up---which should be in the next 6-7 months, most likely.
It's a hard comparison to make, really; cooler both in summer and winter than here, it's also a "bit" too hot for summer comfort, possibly a "bit" cool for winter enjoyment, but possibly the compromises make both seasons possible. It has more vegetation (more rainfall), but this means, well, more rainfall, less shiny days. More diversity of topography and plants. But it lacks the wonderful Superstition Mountains, that wellspring of almost unlimited grand desert hikes; lacks the great desert plant variety of the Sonoran desert. And that's just the climate: there's a whole different mindset (all RV's, no house-type park-models), smaller: the differences go on and on.
The ultimate philosophical question always remains---in my mind---of how, and why? we choose what we choose as a place to live. It's one of endless fascination to me. I always appreciate hearing from anybody else the reasons behind THEIR particular choice. As long as a choice is freely made, there isn't a wrong one, I feel. But it's sad when people are in a place they do NOT want to be, for external (job, family) reasons that compell this choice.
