Travels with Sparky: Chapter 1

(I so adore and respect this younger version of myself! What all she/me/we/I have survived and the ways we’ve grown are incredible.)

Sparky is the Little Red 2001 Honda CRV I’ve had for 10 years – Mom gave her to me when my van kicked the bucket just after I had to declare bankruptcy and foreclosure during the crash of 2008-2009. Sparky has over 275,000 miles on her and some days I feel like I have way over 275,000 miles on me. I love her. She has spunk and personality – like me. And she’s also been there and back. Like me.

We thrive. And some days it’s a shit-ton of work just to show up for the day.

It took a day to pack her up – even after weeks and more of planning.

I headed south and try to hug the Sierra foothills as I made my way toward the I40 and my first destination, London Bridge in Havasu City, AZ.

These are the bulls and cattle around the bend that I can hear from my open bedroom window sometimes. Looking back up the hill toward my home is a different perspective. What am I leaving up there? The hay and wildflowers are so lovely and blooming. It’s easy to forget what it feels like to live 6 or more months of the year in a tender box.

California has been my home on and off since 1966.

I’ve been living up in Squaw Valley for the past 3 years and really feeling the stress of fire season. I’ve had a “go bag” packed and ready – in case of fire. And until recently I’ve had another “go bag” packed for going back to the mental health ward – just in case… sometimes more than fire hazards stress me. It’s been a trying 3 years for sure.

Most of the towns along the foothills are agriculture towns. Cattle and orange groves and other fruit and nut trees mostly. The orange groves smell sweet and sometimes like fermenting fruit.

I’d planned on hugging the hills thus avoiding getting on the I-40 for as long as possible but I got lost. There’s also a really horrible smell of the cattle along the way where they are held until processing.

That’s an awful smell all over the central valley.

Breathe deep while in the orange groves and shallow when near cattle processing. And in-between focus on square breathing as needed for calm.

I gave up eating beef shortly after I moved up to Squaw Valley – seeing the sweet cattle everyday on my way to work, it just didn’t feel right to eat my neighbors. I also gave up pork about the same time but that was due to the cute pictures on Facebook. (Don’t underestimate what sharing pictures can do.)

In 1966 my family moved to California from Texas. I went to 5 kindergartens along the move – in just one school year.

There’s a lot I like about living in California.

I love the diversity. It’s everywhere from the people and cultures to the landscapes and gardening zones, politics, I love the beauty and scenery – especially in the mountains and along the coast. I’m not much of a desert rat or city person.

I’ve left California several times over the years.

It is usually due to the cost of living. It’s high. And the cost of living got ridiculously high when I lost my job a couple years ago due to mental illness followed by physical illness. Or it might have been the other way around. It’s just as possible that poor physical health led to the mental breakdown. It might have been the tumor. Or even a combination…

Goddess knows. 

There is a beauty this year in the desert greater than normal with all the rain we’ve had. Stunning colors and growth and white-laced ridges above.

I can travel at 70+mph and the blur of memories dots the landscape.

The I-40 development took over much of Rout 66 and yet it’s possible to see bits of the past I remember from when I was a girl traveling with my Grandmother. I got my love of travel from her.

The desert is in constant flux and yet remains timeless.

Granddaddy was an industrial plumber and traveled the United States putting in liquid sugar tanks for companies like Coca-Cola, Whitman’s Chocolate, Schlitz Brewery, bakeries and such. I got to travel with them during the summer months. I learned more during those short months than I did all year long in school.

The best thing I learned is that there’s a whole world to explore and wonderful people to meet. Granddaddy never met a stranger, and neither will I.

While the desert whips past me and the landscape is dotted with beauty and also stinky, I can look out the window and see the present and a peek of my past in the rearview and I can turn my head and thoughts to the future.

Who am I? And what Groovy, Grand, Glorious adventures am I going to have?

Stay tuned for updates and adventures. Life is Groovy! Live it!

Thank you for reading this older post – I hesitated including these and I flipped and flopped and overthought and then decided it would be worth including these as they may be useful to someone else on their own journey.

They not so elegantly document the messiness – and therein lies the beauty and purpose.

If you’d like to work with a life coach who’s walked some dark paths and also played with rainbows and fireflies please feel free to contact me here for availability and pricing.