As I made my way back to California, and my high school class’s 40th reunion, the constellations in the desert night sky led me to Joshua Tree National Park this past week.

I am a big fan of the national parks.  Always, they offer well-marked trails to hike, well-maintained roads to drive, and bargain rate campgrounds to camp/glamp.  (Glamping means luxury camping — real beds instead of sleeping bags; hot showers; electricity and refrigeration, etc.)  In Joshua Tree NP, I stayed in the Jumbo Rocks camp with the Wander.

Wander Camp amongst the rocks

View from my kitchen

After a week in the RV, I am adjusting to the space I am living in.   It does not feel sparse nor “limiting” in any way.  With nearly all the same essentials I had in my old home over the past year, as I purged the place of clutter in preparation for the sale of the house, I haven’t experienced yet sentimentality for a permanent home.  America is America wherever I travel, and it is right outside my door.

Speaking of sentimentality, I dropped into Pismo Beach for a few nights over the weekend.  Pismo is like an old friend, in a time capsule, forever the same.  The beaches and weather are nice, but there is not a whole lot to do. Equidistant from L.A. and S.F. and stubbornly doing its own “thing,” a visit may be worthwhile, if only for the uniqueness of the place.

Originally, I wrote I would be at the Sequoia National Park next, (which is another national park I have not seen.)  But, the weather turned unseasonally wintry.  So, I decided to travel to that park later in the summer, and continued on to Pismo.  Like my friend and realtor Dwight always says, “If you don’t like the weather, keep going another mile until you come across weather you like.”  Thanks, Dwight — break a leg.

Taking that advice, I am headed up to the Bay Area tomorrow, (at a county park in Bodega Bay,) to be within shouting range of my high school reunion activities in the Oakland/Berkeley hills next weekend.

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