What I do

When I was a child, my parents owned a 16-foot travel trailer named The Reluctant Draggin’, because it was dragging along behind us (someone saw us on the highway and sent that to the Reader’s Digest). Our food was cooled on a block of ice, and we got drinking water from campground pumps. Our backup for public restrooms was a Traveling Jon—a plastic bag suspended from a toilet seat on legs. We saw all 48 states plus Canada and Mexico, and did we ever have fun!

Four decades later, when I retired from teaching special needs kids, I bought a 24-foot class C (that’s the one that looks like a pickup truck). It was named The Travelin’ Tortoise, because I was carrying my house along with me, a safe place I could retreat to. I ventured out with trepidation, but discovered I really loved traveling with my dog and cat.

Later I upgraded to a 30-foot class A (looks like a bus). This is my Meandering Moose. Like a moose, I’m large, awkward … and running joyfully through God’s glorious creation.

As I drive, I’m ably assisted by my beagle, Sallie, and Dolphin, a saber-toothed tiger cleverly disguised as a tabby cat. Together we revel in autumn color in the Midwest (Colorado’s aspen gold is monochrome), visit friends in British Columbia, and check out the homes of authors ranging from Laura Ingalls Wilder and Bess Streeter Aldrich to Jan Karon and Jean Little. I camp my way around the country, enjoying KOAs and national parks, watching for wildlife, and finding quirky stops such as the 1700-pound life-size solid chocolate moose in Scarborough, Maine. I carry all my own food, plenty of books, a comfy bed, books on tape/CD, and my pets … what more could a retired woman ask for?