This time Joe did not have to worry about imaginary trees popping out in the middle of the road after a long day driving a moving van. In fact, Joe did not have to do any driving of a van at all. This time the Mayflower movers were going to do the job. And we were going to . . . well, that was the problem. We did not know where we were going to!
The house was sold. It sold a month before the school term ended, but we made a deal with the buyers to exchange our refrigerator, washer and dryer for staying in the house till school was out. Now the month was up. School term was over, but we still did not know our destination. So the furniture was going into storage at a warehouse in Renton, WA and we were on the road. On the road to where? I had put in applications to a college in Roseburg, OR, Kingman, AZ, Clarkdale, AZ, Roswell, NM, Carlsbad, NM, Farmington, NM, Grants, NM, and Las Vegas, NM. I had also kept in touch with Don Wilson at New Mexico Junior College in Hobbs, NM and with Dr. Beumel at Palo Verde College back in Blythe, CA.
An interview at Umpqua College in Roseburg, OR resulted in my loosing out by a hair to a female applicant. However, I was still a contender there because they just might have a second position. It all depended on one of their instructors getting a position at a college in Eugene, OR. In the end that other instructor did not get her position, so I did not get a position at Roseburg. Dr. Beumel could not promise anything, Hobbs was having financial difficulties and was not sure of funding a position, and Kingman, Roswell, Carlsbad and Clarkdale found candidates with a better match (they had office skills positions). However, Las Vegas, Farmington and Grants were good matches for my experience and hope for a position this year was not yet lost. To cover our bases, we did make trips up to Enumclaw, WA and even Buckley. This was to check out the possibility of living in at least a semblance of a small town atmosphere while in Washington.
July 18th the moving van comes and out goes all of our furniture. Our three dogs, Kipper the seasoned Schipperke, Polya the timid Chihuahua, and Pasha the pushy Toy Manchester Terrier had been taken to Donna Haworth’s place in Onalaska, WA for boarding a few days previous. That night we were to stay in a motel in Auburn. Saturday morning, July 19th we were all flying out from Seatac airport heading for Albuquerque. I had an interview scheduled at Luna Vocational Technical Institute in Las Vegas, NM. Since we had never been north of Socorro in New Mexico, it seemed prudent for the family to see the area in case I had a job decision to make. Besides, we had become gypsies at the moment and might as well travel.
From Albuquerque it was a two hour trip by car to Las Vegas. The scenery from Albuquerque heading north to Santa Fe was a familiar semi-desert. As we passed the outskirts of Santa Fe, it started to get more mountainous and some greenery became evident. Trees! Not great forests of big trees as we had in Washington, but it was no longer a desert here. It got prettier and prettier. We watched the miles go by as we got ever closer to our destination. Anticipation was running high. Would we like this town of 16,000 people? And how would it be living up at 6,500 feet? And a more pressing question kept nagging. Where would we stay Monday night? Seems that of all the times to get an interview, our luck was to get a weekend when some bicycle club decided to converge on Las Vegas for a big event. All the motels had been booked for nearly a year for that very night! We had decided to stay till Wednesday to have time to check things out in town, and we had reservations for all nights except that Monday. We turned out to have luck on our side and were allowed to stay that Monday night, but the motel parking lot was mighty full!
Our first impression of the town was a bit mixed. It was the right size. It was in a lovely setting, and it was only 60 miles from major services in Santa Fe. The setting reminded us very much of Paso Robles, CA. But the streets seemed to have more pot holes than pavement. The sidewalks and curbing were sporadic and often in disrepair, and we could not find a “normal” housing tract. We did find some nice newer homes, but they were intermixed with run down looking shanties. Where had we come to?
That first evening we were driving around looking over the town and wondering about the poor appearance of the houses and buildings. We had not forgotten that Blythe was not exactly the Beverly Hills of California, but there we had an explanation of why it was that way. And there were new housing tracts in Blythe. While we were wondering all this, a man who was watering his lawn in the evening noticed us driving slowly by and said a very friendly “hello”. Suddenly the town’s appearance magically transformed itself. This is why we were looking for a small town. It was not the houses and buildings. It was for the friendly people. A place where you did not have to be afraid to say hello to your neighbor. A quiet place to live. For the size of metropolitan area that Seattle is, Auburn was surprisingly friendly. But it was not a Blythe or Las Vegas by any measure. This was a true small town.
On Sunday, we met with Ray Cordova, the director of the Technology and Industry division at Luna, and the man who had invited me to the interview. He and his wife drove us around and showed us Montezuma’s Castle just 5 miles north of Las Vegas. Montezuma’s Castle was a hotel in years gone by and is now part of the Armand Hammer United World College. There are three colleges in Las Vegas. The United World College, Luna Vocational Technical Institute and New Mexico Highlands University. This was my kind of town!
Ray drove us up to Luna and showed us the beautiful new buildings. He explained a bit about the position and what would be expected of me. My electronics background and credentials would be useful to Luna as it was about to undergo another accreditation in two years. My varied credentials would also make it easier to fill class needs for this small college of 1,200 students.
Monday was the day of the interview. I met with a group of faculty members and administrators, including the president, Sam Vigil. Obviously I impressed them since a job offer was forthcoming. We needed to settle on a salary. Things were getting serious. We had wanted to get to a small town very bad, but the drop in pay was going to be huge and we needed to make sure that this was the right place. Tension was running high. What better way to picture yourself living in a place than to start looking for a house. So look we did. Only problem was that there were no houses to look at! We go to Blythe, no houses. We come to Las Vegas, no houses. What gives? Is someone working against us?
For various reasons there is a moratorium on new developments in Las Vegas. In the mean time, Santa Fe house prices have gone up over $200,000 and some of the Santa Feans are coming to Las Vegas. So much for the low cost New Mexico housing we had been told about. We are shown a 50 year old house in good condition but in an unsellable area for $78,000, and another house which is unlivable and on a busy street for “only” $115,000. The last house WAS on an acre of land, but it only had two bedrooms and the floors were sagging and could not be fixed. Irene noticed a for sale by owner in the paper and we went to look. Asking price was $100,000. It was 15 years old. But best of all, it was at the end of a cul-de-sac of THE street in town. We though long and hard about it for about 10 seconds and made an offer contingent on my getting approved by the college board. We were on our way to Las Vegas! As it turned out, the house needed much more work than we had anticipated, but as we look back it was still a fair deal. Besides, we love the location.
Having all those dealings behind us, we were on our way to Albuquerque to catch the plane back. Irene hates flying. She was pale enough on the way down, but now there was a trip back to make. Somehow, she just closed her eyes, dug her clenched nails into my hand and managed the stopover in Salt Lake City and, at last, the landing in Seatac. She swore she would never fly again, but has since relented a bit on that statement.
We first went to Lesa’s house to pick up Irene’s car. Lesa was a good friend Irene had made in Auburn, but Lesa too had sold her house and was also preparing to move. She was from Tennessee and could not wait to get back. We got the car, said our good-byes, promised to write and went to the motel for the night. Next day, Thursday, we were on our way to pick up the dogs. Remember the dogs? They were at Donna’s place and we weren’t sure if she was still sane after experiencing Pasha (the pushy Toy Manchester Terrier). Donna said that all went well (she has to keep up her image as a dog breeder and kennel operator). Oh yeah, Pasha did in fact get to stay in the house, but that is normal for the business. It is? Anyway, she did like Kipper very much. Said that he was an alpha dog and got his dog thing down pat. She likes that in a dog. Polya was no trouble (we did not expect any), and Pasha, well let us leave things alone while we are still on speaking terms with Donna.
We were now heading south. South to Paso Robles, and to our new home with Irene’s sister Katja for the next six weeks. That Katja was willing to put up with us for so long was great, but can you imagine me having to live that long with my computer locked up in storage? Sure, Katja had a computer, but it just isn’t the same.
There were still things to be settled. For one, I had not yet turned in my resignation at Green River College. They were so nice to me there, that I hated to break the news to them. But it had to be done. I was not leaving because of Green River, my family life could not survive up there. Irene could not adjust to the population density, and by June her allergies flared up something terrible. In any case, a trip up north was in order. This time, Katja and her daughter Marina were going with us also. Fair is fair.
Up, up good ol’ interstate 5 we went. By now we felt that we knew every bump in the road from all of the trips up and down that we had taken over the past year. It still was enjoyable, though. Northern California and Oregon are very attractive. Getting into Washington there are many more trees to be seen. It is no wonder that previously Washington had green license plates (now they are blue and white). The greenery is pretty (or at least I think so), but we could not help feel the tension mounting for we knew the pressure of the big metropolitan area was not far away now. It is possible to develop a phobia of density. Just go away from it for a while, and go back.
We got to Auburn and stayed in that overpriced, noisy motel again. My resignation letter was prepared and turned in. My keys were turned in, and I started to say my good-byes. I didn’t get a chance to say good-bye to some very nice people, but I will send them a letter to let them know I appreciated them. Now it was time to head back south. We decided to take the “scenic route.” This meant we would travel along the coast of Washington instead of I5. I had wanted to see the Olympic peninsula, but Irene was getting worn out by all of the traveling and we settled on a compromise.
Down to Centralia we drove and settled into a motel there for the night. We did want to at least get out of the Auburn density for that night. Centralia is a pleasant enough town, but as we watched, we saw the tremendous amount of commuter traffic there as people travel to Olympia and even further north to work. Everyone seems to want to live in that quiet little town we were seeking.
In the morning we were on our way again, heading for the coast on Washington highway 6, through Pe Ell and on to South Bend on the coast. Then we followed US 101 along the somewhat curvy and mostly foggy coast. While I was taking in the beauty of the coastal forest, Irene kept pointing out to Katja how terrible the damp and foggy climate was there. When we got to the junction of Washington 4 I decide to turn inland for a bit since I had not seen that part near the Columbia river. That was a mistake. It was a straight, wide section of road with a slight downgrade to boot. This was a big change from the curvy coastal route and I did not notice my speed. Suddenly there was a state patrol car heading towards us and he turned his red lights on. Yes, they use radar in Washington. As I glanced down on the speedometer, it indicated an uncomfortable 67 in a 55 zone. Off to the side of the road we went. “Do you know that the speed limit is 55 mph?” said the trooper. Sure I did, but what could I do about it? He wrote up a ticket for 65mph which he said would cost a lot less than one over 65. Thank you sir, and we were again on our way. Only 4 miles from the Oregon border to permanently leave Washington behind, and I get a going away present.
Irene had forgotten the Astoria bridge from our previous travels, and it wasn’t until we were going up its incline that she got a chance to worry again. It was over in a flash. That is, as soon as we dug up the money to pay the toll booth at the Oregon side. Oregon charges people to come in. They can leave to Washington for free!
The Oregon coast was much more to Irene’s and Katja’s liking. The kids did not seem to care what we were passing except that they did enjoy our stop at the beach in Oswald West state park. We stopped for lunch in Tillamook, the cheese capital of Oregon. We continued south till Hebo and then headed inland on state highway 22 to state 99W. Then is was south through Corvalis and on to join I5 at Eugene. Corvalis was nice enough, but not the dream town we once pictured it to be. There were rolling hills but not much greenery beyond what you might find in the central valley of California.
I planned to take the bypass just north of Eugene but somehow missed it and we ended up in the middle of Eugene traffic. Irene was getting angry since we were getting behind schedule (if we did have a schedule). I explained to her that I had wanted to see the university while we were passing through (which I sort of did, but it was a dandy excuse). We did get to pass by the university when I made another wrong turn. By then we were only a few blocks from I5 and the bumper to bumper traffic could be tolerated for the short distance remaining. At last we were on I5 and free to continue south at a steady pace.
We calculate how far south we could get that day, and had several options. If all went well, it was possible to reach Yreka, CA where there was a very nice Motel Orleans at a very reasonable price. But could we make it? We checked other options and found all of the expensive motels in Medford and Ashland listed in the AAA travel guide. We made a dinner stop at the great traveler’s restaurant, McDonald’s in Grants Pass. I got on the telephone and called the Motel Orleans to make reservations. We would be arriving late and did not want to find ourselves without a room. No problem, a room would be waiting for us.
After a nice stay in Yreka, the girls decided to let me have my wish to see Lassen Volcanic National Park. It was a bit of a detour, but I had wanted to see it for some time and here was a chance. After all, what was the rush? We weren’t moving to New Mexico for a number of weeks yet and Irene was so happy to get out of Washington that she was somewhat recovered from the traveling. The visit to Lassen was a here we are, here we go affair. We did stop a couple of times to look around and the kids got a chance to play in the snow that was still there from the winter.
Katja insisted on a visit to Ukiah so she could evaluate it as a place to move to. So from Lassen we headed to Red Bluff where we were once again on I5 and stayed on it till Williams. Then it was state 20 past Clearlake and Upper lake on to Ukiah. This was the first time for us to see Clear Lake the lake, and it was beautiful. Of course, there were thousands of people already living there, which showed that we were not the only ones to feel that way. Although we were not traveling during “rush hour”, we could sense the commuter traffic that must be there in the morning and evening of business days.
Ukiah was pretty as ever, although the prices of houses were not as pretty as they once were. Seems that others had discovered the Ukiah pearl too. A night’s stay in Ukiah and we headed south on US 101 through San Francisco, then joined state highway 1 for a coastal route. Irene began to grumble about the slow coastal route as she worried that I was going to start passing slower cars. Highway 1 is not divided, and it has only one lane in each direction. Passing can be hazardous, so her concerns were not completely unfounded. However, I took my time and tried to enjoy the beautiful coastal scenery. By Santa Cruz we hit traffic, and we reflected on our good fortune that Cabrillo College (near Santa Cruz) did not offer me a position (which we might have been tempted to accept a year ago).
We got to Monterey and caught my brother and his wife at home. It was a surprise visit since it is hard to reach them by telephone. Due to the many calls they get from friends, they often turn the telephone off. We visited, Mura (my sister-in-law) treated us to a delicious meal, and we told stories of our adventures. It was finally time to head home and we were on our way along state 68 to Salinas where we would join US 101. We considered taking state highway 1 along the coast, but it is such a slow route, and it was getting late. By 4 p.m. we were in Paso Robles and we headed straight for the vet’s office to pick up the two Chihuahuas, Polya and Mishkin (our dog, and Katja’s). Pasha had gone with us, and Kipper could be trusted to stay in Katja’s yard with her other dog, Ursi. Mishkin was always escaping and could not be trusted, and poor Polya was put in the kennel to keep Mishkin company.
When Irene’s mother heard we were moving, she decided it was a good opportunity to get herself moved. She was living in Desert Hot Springs, CA with her son and was wanting to move up to Paso Robles to live with Katja. Her son George had moved his family to Mesquite, NV and was going to move there himself shortly. The decision was obvious, why should our moving expertise be wasted. By now we must be experts, so down to the desert we went. We left our car there, and took a U-Haul full of furniture back up to Paso Robles. Leaving the car was appropriate since we would be heading through the desert on our way to New Mexico. We had two cars to take down and this would save Irene some 400 miles of driving alone.
The weeks in Paso Robles went by in relaxed state. Except for my occasional computer withdrawal symptoms cropping up, it was a fun time. There were invitations for interviews at Farmington and Grants which I turned down since we were heading for Las Vegas. Katja kept nagging about checking out the proposed positions, but I felt that I had already made a good choice. I just wasn’t sure about Grants. Farmington was a bigger college, but what if Grants was a town beyond words for beauty? We had never been to Grants and all we knew was that the college was nice and small. We did have a bit of input about Grants from Rosina’s ex sister-in-law, Kathy. Rosina is the very nice lady we bought the house from in Las Vegas. Kathy was visiting at the time and she happens to be from Grants. She told us that Grants was colder in winter and that there was nothing to yearn for in Grants. But the uncertainty still lingered.
Finally the “vacation” was at an end. It was time to go. Rosina had wanted to have possession of the house till the end of July so that she could get her mobile home set up. But now July was coming to an end and we were on our way. The two cousins, Alexis and Marina had much fun playing together. Both would soon be heading off to school again, and we could only look to vacation visits next year. The final move begins.
We arrived in the desert heat still not knowing if the house escrow was a done deal. Despite the shortage of houses for sale in Las Vegas, the escrow company was booming with business. Having some time, we take a trip to Blythe to visit our friends there. As luck would have it, most of them are not at home, or not even in town as we found out later. A nice visit with Joe Parker and Linda completes our trip to Blythe on a very enjoyable note. We finally get an express mail delivery from Las Vegas a day late, so we decide to just take it with us. The mail service could not guarantee delivery faster than we could drive there ourselves! Early Saturday morning, July 24th, we were on our way “home”.
Through Blythe on I10 we travel once again and stop for lunch in Phoenix. Then we head north on I17 to Flagstaff. What a beautiful setting Flagstaff is in! We now headed east on US 180 and look forward to seeing Winslow and Holbrook for the first time. There are colleges there and we had unsuccessfully tried to find a position for me there. Good thing they had no positions. Winslow and Holbrook were not what we anticipated them to be. We had somehow envisioned a Show Low beautiful mountain town (there is also a satellite campus in Show Low, AZ which we did get to see on one of our trips). Instead, there they were, in the dusty spread of a high desert with Winslow sporting a couple of main streets with some run down looking buildings. Don’t misunderstand me. They may be very nice towns, but the did not even come close to matching our imagined, scenic settings we had attributed to them. Las Vegas was looking more and more like a gem. We had made the right choice.
We made pretty good time along the flats of Arizona, and that night we would reach Gallup, NM. I estimated that arrival in Gallup would be by about 6 p.m. so motels should still be ok. What do you mean it is 7 p.m. as we arrive? Forgot about the time zone! Arizona does not observe daylight savings time so it had the same time as California. New Mexico was on Mountain daylight time. Fortunately there are plenty of motels in Gallup and we go to a AAA listed one with reasonable prices. AAA rated or not, it is not all that exciting, and the poor dogs don’t have a good place to take a stroll. Only two dogs go with us. We had left Polya behind for Irene’s mother since her own poodle, Baku, had run away and apparently was dead (he was quite old and deaf).
Gallup was nothing to get excited about. Some tourists come there, but I would not pick it as a vacation spot. We only needed to spend one night there, so it was all right. In the morning we get up early and continue east on I40. I had installed CB radios in both cars so we could communicate as needed. They sure were nice to have. Irene was driving the Nissan wagon and I was driving our Mazda MPV van with our 8 foot trailer in tow. We drive past Thoreau. Nothing much there to see, but it is at the “top of the world” being on the continental divide. We have discussions as to whether to stop in Grants to look around but radio contact becomes sporadic for some reason. As we approach Grants, I decide that this town at the base of some hills does not need to be visited. It is not unsightly, but I have no regrets at accepting the position in Las Vegas. Any doubts I may have had are now all gone.
As I watch Grants get further into the distance of my rear view mirror, I notice that the white Nissan wagon is no longer behind me. As I look back, I catch a glimpse of Irene pulling into a rest stop. Too late for me to pull in and I can’t back up very well with the trailer attached. I pull over to the side and wait. Turns out that she tried to reach me by radio, but the CBs weren’t working well. She had expected me to stop in Grants, but when I drove by, it was last chance for a rest break. Irene and Alexis had to stop.
At Albuquerque we turned north on I25. Big town that Albuquerque. This road was now a familiar sight. We had traveled it in a rented car a few weeks back when we came out for my interview. This was getting close to home. Gas was getting low on the gage, but I missed the last gas offramp in Albuquerque. By my calculations, we should have enough to get us to Santa Fe. But there was not much room to spare. Alexis kept wanting something to eat. She was so hungry that she was willing to eat anything, as long as it was a Happy Meal at McDonald’s that is. We turned off at Cerrillos road and filled up the cars and then on to a McDonald’s to fill up the stomach. We went through the southern part of Santa Fe and found it to be quite attractive, for a large town. Santa Fe sits on a slope up against the mountains. There is a beautiful view of the Rio Grande valley from almost any spot in Santa Fe.
On to Las Vegas we go for the final stretch of 60 miles. As we leave Santa Fe behind us, the road is more beautiful with low mountains on either side. Low mountains is a relative term in this land of 7,000 feet elevation! Once again we watch the trees get more plentiful and it is a very attractive setting. No “house behind every tree” phenomenon we were faced with in Washington. Only 40 miles to Las Vegas. Now it is only 30 miles. Then 20, 15, 10, 5. Finally we are here. Home at last!