The Little Woman wanted to go for a walk, so we set out on the paved path that follows the circumference of the island. The problem with a big circle is by the time you’re tired, you’re around halfway- at least you think so- and you keep going. That’s the story of our four mile trip around the island. Bonus time! Right next door to the campground is a motocross race. We watched a few starts from the back side of the fence, cheapskates that we are. A little kid endoed over the bars, and shortly thereafter the ambulance trundled off with their new cargo. What a stupid sport. But it sure is fun.
We finally got a chance to relax. Just sit by the trailer with a view of the lake, and read. Wonderful. A quick lunch of leftovers, and off to Dad’s place. We took his car, as you can’t do three on a bike. Not in America, anyway. I’ve seen a family of five on a Honda 100 in Haiti. We saw and crossed Parker dam, which is quite unusual. The top section looks like stage curtains, but is a series of slides for the gates to rise. Apparently they are expecting some serious monsoon rains, as it looks like opening the gates would drain the lake in around five minutes.
I have never seen so many RVs in my life. Storage lots, RV parks, campgrounds and trailer parks are jammed with them. Arizona (And California, along the river) is committed to fun. Between the RVs, boats, jet skis, golf carts, bikes and UTVs, everyone is bent on getting out and having a good time. Or parking all this crap around and looking at it. Let’s not forget the miles of self storage places where we can visit our stuff once or twice a year.
Today Dad stood up quickly- he thinks he’s still seventy- and fell onto the couch. He quickly tried to stand and did it again, and then a third time. I was right next to him at the time, and he just looked unbalanced, like his head determined the balance point was ten degrees off reality. Very disconcerting. He was pretty rattled about it. He finally stood at the kitchen counter and regained his equilibrium. The clock ticks on, inexorably. I wish I could stop it. Of course if I could, I would want to turn it back. But that’s our lot in a broken world, with bodies that break down, one day at a time. Sometimes it is unnoticeable, and other times it slaps you right in the face.