… time to post a web update and time to move on. Our wheels didn’t roll much in the last couple of months while we checked back in with old haunts, friends and family in Santa Cruz. The prime motivator to be here was, of course, Westi, Mike, and the grandbabies—still inside—that they are nurturing. The Universe must have agreed that we needed to be near them since a Camp Host position at Seacliff State Beach was offered almost immediately upon receipt of our application. It can take years to get in here so that is nothing short of miraculous, though indeed there was a catch. The Park Service was looking to add a second Host site. Without hook-ups. “Hmmm…”, we thought, “do we really want to that?” “Yes”, we decided, “We do. That’s why we spent the bucks for solar, no?”

It was great. Mostly. Piloting a new program made for some hiccups. Logistics weren’t really figured out so confusion reigned at first. Campers return to this beach year after year after year. Sometimes month after month. Day users (and their dogs) walked/ran/biked past us on the “Promenade Trail” day after day after day. We were different. We weren’t in the right spot. Sometimes we were in their favorite spot. The other hosts, veterans of 18 seasons here, weren’t thrilled about the change either. Warm and fuzzy they were not. On the other hand, the weather has been truly fine. We slept with the ramp door open to cool sea air and the sound of crashing waves almost every night. The sunsets were glorious. Sunrises too. Passerbys exclaimed over how cool our rig is all day long. Grayson had his own fan club. A walk on the beach was mere steps away. Dolphins, whales, seals, otters, pelicans, and a local Peregrine Falcon reminded us of the magic and mystery of the world. As did the 3 million year old fossils embedded in the cliff walls and beach rocks. And more people appreciated us than not. We put a lot of energy into our “job” and we made a difference to folks. I think we were born to be Campground Hosts.

Nicole arrived in California shortly after we did. Accommodations were in short supply so she spent most of her time with her good friend, Jodee, before heading home to Texas. As road trips go, the first leg of her trip was quick and uneventful. The return… not so much. We dub it the “roadtrip from hell”. A belt broke near the California/Arizona line, cracking her radiator in the bargain. Days and many dollars later, she was back on the road but New Mexico brought, not one, but two blow-outs in quick succession. Thankfully, she was not hurt and another day and some more dollars, she was driving again. The final straw was outside El Paso when she stopped at a rest area and, afterwards, her car wouldn’t start. The tow truck driver told her that the brand new radiator was low on coolant and her engine had “seized”. Nicole was near the end of her rope and we felt ultimately helpless. In desperation, I called my dad. “Is there ANY chance you know someone in the El Paso area?” Amazingly, going through his address book, within a short time he had located a woman who agreed to drive 50 miles out of her way to pick up Nicole and her little dog, Ranger, and get them to the bus station. By morning, he had done even better, having found a man who knew a mechanic. They towed Nicole’s car to the garage, diagnosed the problem as a faulty battery connection, and within hours, had Nicole back on the road, asking only $25 for their trouble. We are eternally grateful for the kindness of strangers who not only came to Nicole’s rescue, but who also renewed our faith in the essential goodness of humankind.

Coming back to Santa Cruz was interesting. In some ways it is still home. It felt wonderful to know where to get my hair cut, what aisle in the grocery store to find things in, which roads to take to avoid a traffic jam … the little things that you take for granted living someplace for a long time and which take a lot of effort travelling. It was good to come full circle and check in with the life that we left … great to see people … a bit humbling to see how well everyone has survived without us. Leaving our respective workplaces provided opportunities for others to step up and excel. And they have. And they are. Despite the grim economic realities that make us grateful that we made the choices that we did.

Of course the raison d’être for our extended stay are the grand-babies-to-be, and our wish to be of assistance during Westi’s pregnancy. In this we hope we achieved some measure of success, though not as much as we had hoped. Life has a way of filling in and we were constantly busy. Still, Steve cooked and took dogs to the park. I shopped and did laundry. Balancing being helpful with wanting to stay out of their way was tricky. It will be an ongoing challenge when we return though the balance point is a moving target as needs will evolve through delivery and life with newborns. Over five months pregnant with twins, Westi is still tiny and cute. Baby Grace and her brother (name tba) aren’t quite as cute yet but they are indeed tiny, weighing in at just over a pound as of the last week’s sonograms. We are hoping for February birthdays, preparing for January ones and praying they don’t come in December. As I write, the prospective parents are celebrating their last anniversary as just a twosome in Oregon. Tomorrow they’ll share Thanksgiving with our dear friends, Helen and Bob. I wonder where we’ll be?

For now, we’re in southern California, Texas-bound. Leaving the campground was miserable. The rains finally came and everything was covered in sand. We had to hitch and move our little cargo trailer. Then unhitch it to hitch up “Twyla”, our home on wheels, in order to put her in storage (yikes!) Then unhitch Twyla and re-hitch the little trailer. Soggy and chilled, we finally got on the road. Despite the rain, it felt good to be on the move again. As we prepare for bed, we are parked outside the Bakersfield Camping World. (Steve is outside acting as unofficial campground host even here!) It’s beyond cramped in the camper with 2 adults, three dogs and a cat but we’re safe and dry. Bellies are full, we have an internet connection and a DVD to watch. Life could be much worse.