"One sentence is not enough."

The helicopters--tourism helicopters--fly low over my roof. I feel their vibration as I type. As they doppler-effect away towards the Grand Canyon, the steady purr of the neighbor's generator takes over. Birds twitter in the nearby trees. Other general engine sounds emanate from the airport, but now I'm focused on updating everyone about the job.

My friend, my dear sweet friend who is also a writer, prompted me with a text before the Memorial Day weekend. She said she wanted to find out how things were going since I hadn't updated the blog. "Just put it in one sentence!"

I considered this challenge seriously for about 48 hours. But things are coming at me too quickly to sum it up neatly or easily. So many things... I'll have to categorize each into their own subheading, and I fear this blog post will be long. Only the dedicated two or three readers--close family and friends--will read all the way to the end.

This past weekend, I tried--for the second time, I tried--to get away from this job. This is a detailing of the events leading up to, encompassing, and culminating in job jumping.

Buena

For those who don't know, my dog is named after Buena Vista, Colorado. They've got this thing there. Rather than the Spanish pronunciation b-way-na vista, the town there goes by the French pronunciation of the first word: bew-na. That's how they know locals from non-locals, the pronunciation. Since that is where she entered my life story, she's named after the town.

The picture above is Buena on the Monday before Memorial Day.

She's lactating...again. This is what she does twice a year. Sometimes it lasts for two weeks, once she milked it out to five weeks!

This week, when she brought all her "babies" around her in a nest, she even grabbed her oldest toy, Squeaks McGee. She selected him as one of her babies this time. (Squeaks is under her and can't be seen in the pic.) She hasn't played with this toy in over a year. It's always interesting the babies she selects, but she does seem to favor some in particular: the blue crackly snake, Lamb Chop, a blue-and-grey koala bear with crackly legs, and the three little aliens inside their blue spaceship. It's supposed to be an interactive toy to engage dog's minds. They work to remove the aliens. Sometimes, I'll stuff crunchy treats inside as a bonus. She pulls out all the little aliens, and they become her babies.

She has to stay in the RV while I work. To make sure she does her thing, we've been taking long walks at six in the morning. Out of the house by six and back by 6:40 is my goal.

We also go for a walk when I return from work around seven at night. We repeat the same walk. I let her off the leash at the road around the airport runway where small planes sit on the other side of the fence. Buena doesn't care about the fence, she wants to climb the little embankment and sniff at the low shrubs and grass clumps. She paws at rocks, probably looking for lizards.

I'm away from her for too many hours in the day. She needs a good day spent with me. We need a place where we can "go off trail" and get lost in the sand and rocks.

View to the north from Navajo Bridge.

Driving the Shuttle Van

Twelve-hour days covering about 500 miles.

Actually, it's more like 450 miles, but it sure feels like 500 miles after loading and unloading passengers and baggage all day. The other day as a group of fourteen passengers laden with backpacks followed me to my van, I hopped inside the trailer, turned around, and asked, "Who's got baggage? Um...actually, we all have baggage. Who's got luggage for the trailer?" Ba-da-dum. I wish I could be that entertaining or funny driver.

Instead, I'm listening to passengers discuss strategy for crossing the Grand Canyon and how to prepare. One woman who leads trips through the canyon, rim-to-rim, says that hikers must leave by 4:15 a.m. in order to properly do it in one day. She also said hikers must take a bite of a snack and a sip of water every twenty minutes. Salt is also important. Electrolytes. Must stay hydrated.

I also find out other things.

One passenger, a Hawaii resident, said that Hawaii allows sleeping on beaches and talks about the soft sand in some places. He also says is sharp in others. I prod him a little about this, wondering if Hawaii might be a good place to be homeless if I get really down on my luck and fortunes. "So, can you sleep on the beaches all night?" He confirms that you can, but you have to be off the beach by 8 a.m. A good place to be homeless and on vacation. I could go be homeless in Hawaii and just pay airfare. The group discussing Hawaii also danced around political talk in the seat behind me. It's hard to keep my mouth shut sometimes.

Occasionally, I'll accidentally tell people about things I'm reading. The other day, I let it slip about Bohemian Grove, Agenda 2030, the depopulation plan, the 15-minute city, or the you-will-eat-bugs goal of the NWO oligarchs...

But I digress... Maybe one day I'll add an entire extra page to this blog about conspiracy theories that have been proven true or proven to not actually be "conspiracy." I read an article once about how the term "conspiracy theorist" is meant to be a slur against someone to discredit and silence that person. That's why--sometimes--I'll push back against what someone is saying. For example, a woman from San Jose said that I should consider Obamacare because it offers wonderful benefits to low-wage workers like me. I responded, "I had Obamacare...twice. Both times I ended up owing money because I made a little more than my projected income. I had to payback subsidies I couldn't afford. Nah...Obamacare is designed to keep you from wanting to earn more. I'd rather not have insurance than Obamacare." Another man from Oregon said that things weren't so bad with the economy. Then, I had to set him straight about what it's like to have to work two jobs at low wages just to survive. "And it's a good thing I live in my vehicle because I can't afford rent," I added. Somebody's got to set these people straight.

The job is mostly wonderful. I found out that tour leaders get a free cookie at the Jacob Lake Lodge. The cookies there are ginormous and well-made. Interesting cookies, too! German chocolate, pumpkin chocolate chip, ginger snap, and fully-loaded Oatmeal cookies! They've got other ones, too, but I can't get past the oatmeal cookies.

I like the Jacob Lake Lodge. They're good people.

I stop there for the second route stop. The owner doesn't care, but red-headed dictator who doles out the keys each morning says not to stop there. She has very specific places she wants us to stop. On the first day I asked if I could stop at Jacob Lake instead of at Marble Canyon.

"No, you cannot. We are to stop at Marble Canyon. If a guest feels sick or has to use the restroom after climbing that big hill, then you may stop...but only if it is an emergency."

Some of the cookies at Jacob Lake.

So, when I'm pulling away from the shuttle loading area, I give my spiel about the trip.

"Our trip is a four-and-a-half to five- hour drive. I'd depends on how many RVs we get behind getting out of the park." Ba da dum. "Our first stop is in Cameron, about an hour and a half out." It usually takes an hour fifteen, but if we're ahead of schedule, it makes their day. "Our next stop is about an hour-and-a-half beyond that. We have to stop at Marble Canyon. BossLady says we have to stop there...unless the passengers want to try to go all the way without the second stop." I pause for dramatic effect. "That will be a long ride if we don't stop. Cameron to the North Rim is about three hours. There is--however--an emergency hatch at Jacob Lake for a restroom break. It's really a great stop. They've got these cookies..." Then, I tell them about the cookies and how "they're only two bucks!"

Later, when we are about two miles from the Navajo Bridge and Marble Canyon, I alert passengers: "Folks, we're coming up on the Navajo Bridge, which crosses the Colorado River. You'll really want to take a good look at that canyon and the river below. We also have to decide at this time--in two miles--whether or not to stop at Marble Canyon or try to push on to the North Rim. Remember, there is that emergency stop we could make at Jacob Lake, the place with the oatmeal--and other--cookies."

By the time we cross the Navajo Bridge, the passengers usually decide to try to push on and not stop at Marble Canyon.

I remind them, "Okay, but if any of you feel like you have to stop, you just let me know. I'll stop." And you know what? Someone always has an emergency potty situation at Jacob Lake! 😉

Obviously not gonna post a pic of BossLady. This is one of Buena's "lovies."

Some mornings, I'll leave a treat in its hands so she can find it while I'm gone.

The red-headed BossLady is mean. She's a middle-management type. She scares me.

On my first day of driving the van, I came out of my RV to find her doing something with the bucket at the water spigot.

"Good morning!" I said brightly, anxious to start the day.

"No, it's not," she said flatly, not looking at me.

I locked my RV door and walked the long way around the trees to get to the van. I didn't want her vibe rubbing off on me.

She said I couldn't drive one particular van because the check-engine light was on.

"Do you know how many breakdowns I've had? I think I can handle a check-engine light," I quipped.

"I don't need your passive-aggressive behavior this morning," she shot back, which lead to me considering my motives. I just thought I was being funny.

She also didn't want me holding a gas card. The other drivers held gas cards, but not me. We would pass the gas cards along on the ride. Usually at Cameron, one of the other drivers would give me a card, and we'd make sure that driver had it back before we started the return trip.

One night, coming in late, I did have a gas card. She told me to fill up at the Tusayan station before parking the van. Late, tired, and anxious to let Buena outside, I figured I would stop in the morning.

When I pulled the van out early to go fill up before being at the starting gate, she asked what I was doing.

"I'm going to get gas," I said.

"Not in Tusayan!" she bellowed. "Never get gas at that station! They are too expensive!"

"But just last night you said I should stop there..."

"Shush! I'm not discussing this!"

While it's easy to not-like this woman, I feel a profound sense of sadness toward her. To be mean for the sake of being mean suggests a deep-seated internal discontent. The woman needs Jesus, the Prince of Peace.

I have elk at my camp site.

I think they're eight-point bucks. These two guys hang out together and all the female elk are in their own grouping in another area. I keep hoping one of them will happen to walk by the RV while I'm inside. I imagine myself reaching out a hand to feel the velvet antlers. I know better than to stand next to one to do that!

The nights here are cold, in the upper 30s. I thought it would be warmer than that by now.

Within the first few days, I think a mouse got into the RV. Buena dug around under the driver's seat. But she acts weird with lactation, so I didn't think anything about that until I found the mouse poop in the front area of the RV. I'll have to buy some fresh Irish Spring bar soap, original scent. Placing it around the RV deters mice. Some old-time RVer told me that when I first started doing this, so I did, and I've never had a mouse problem...until now. Over the last year, I've been throwing away the dried out old pieces of soap when I find them laying around. Guess it's time to buy more!

Rubber bands and paperclips hold the door shut.

Things are Broken

I feel like I should keep an ongoing list of broken things inside the RV, maybe a System Status page for the various mechanical functions: the vehicle engine, the plumbing, the propane system, the roof, the windows & doors, etc.

At this point, the door handle to the closet broke. I took it apart to try to fix it, but the tiny little spring inside is broken, so there's no more tension on the latch.

One day when I got home from driving around seven, I found the closet door blown open from the gusts of wind that had been going on all afternoon. Buena was trapped on the other side of that door in the bedroom. I don't know for how long she didn't have access to water, but she went right to her bowl when I let her out.

View of lodge at north rim of the Grand Canyon.

Here's how I rationalized quitting this job.

This job requires a lot of responsibility for a little diddily-daddily pay. I mean... it's better than working retail or hotel, but there's a heavy load of responsibility when you've got to get 14 passengers safely to the North Rim over bumpy Navajo roads with fast-moving traffic. And these tourist drivers act crazy. I get it...they only get one- or maybe two- weeks of vacation a year. They need to see, do, experience, tour, photograph, hike, eat, and visit it all in one week! So, they're in a hurry and do stupid things on the road, like passing in a no-passing zone going up a hill. They don't know what's about to crest on that hill. One driver passed me in a no-passing zone, causing two cars in oncoming traffic to swerve off the road onto the shoulder.

In the parks, you've got to watch out for elk and deer jumping in front of the vehicle...the vehicle with warped rotors. The whole front end pounds and shakes when I apply the brakes at highway speed. It concerns me, but OwnerMan says the rotors are going to be looked at soon. They are ordering the parts.

I'm probably crazy to think about quitting, but I've got so much else I have to do. I want to go see my daughters, and I need to start work for my upcoming teaching job. It's a complete gear shift for me. I'm going back to teaching middle- and high- school English. It's the exact same thing I was doing when I started the rat race, and it'll be the last thing I do...Lord willing...before I retire.

I've also got a book to update. Celebrating Jesus at Hanukkah is getting a second edition. I have really nice reviews on Amazon, but one review really stuck with me. "The devotional didn't go deep enough." I know it didn't. The Hanukkah devotional was what I made for celebrating with my children, so some of the stories are juvenile, as is the phrasing. I have some of version two written, but I need alone time to finish it.

Maybe quitting now to work on the book would be a good idea. I'm kind of feeling it.

Plus...I'm almost out of propane. I'm just using those little cylinders ($$$), but I'm almost out. It gets cold here at night...in the 30s.

I should probably cross Navajoland in the RV before it gets too hot anyway.

BossLady keeps telling me they don't need me around much anyways. They now have the two busses and enough drivers.

I never know when I'm working or not working as there is no schedule.

Maybe I should go.

Besides, I haven't gotten a straight answer about payroll or how to access my paystubs.

So, the Friday before Memorial Day, when BossLady told me not to worry about working on Saturday, I responded with a group text to Owner and BossLady:

With the busses and all these other people here, it seems like you all don't really need me.

And trying to figure out payroll is really frustrating.

Maybe I should just quit now. That's kind of where my thinking is right now. None of this seems to be going very well, and I'm tired of not knowing when I work. I have bills to pay. I have another job online, and I have to work with that, too.

If you don't really need me tomorrow, then we can just have today be my last day. I can't keep getting yanked around day by day.

I laid it all out on the line.

With no work schedule, I can't figure out my life and budget. At this point, I don't even know how much I'm making because my first paycheck looks a little lower that what I'd been told I'd be making. And no one can point to a paystub.

I understand this is a family-run business and they've got two lodges and a shuttle system to coordinate, but it seems out of control. There's that part of me that wants to take charge and organize their process. I should have been a process manager, I actually excel at it and have even earned awards for it. But there's another part of me saying, "Not my circus, not my monkeys."

At the end of the walk, we turn around and head back to the RV.

At this point, Buena is still off leash and usually wants to play tug-o-war.

So long, farewell, auf wiedersehen, goodbye

On Saturday morning, I packed the RV.

I took my black ballcap and blue shirt uniform over to the Owner's fifth-wheel and put it in the main compartment. I'd already left the keys and credit card in the van.

The Saturday morning of the Memorial Day weekend, the only way to exit the area was directly through the Grand Canyon main gate--the gate that sees a gazillion visitors every year--to get back to Utah. Traffic stretched out a mile long. Rather than do the old traffic creep to get on the bumper of the vehicle in front of me, I didn't leave the engine running. Instead, I played that game of shutting off the engine and turning it on to move forward at the right moment so no one else cuts in front of me. Sometimes, I was able to get two or three car-lengths of blessed movement. (Remember, the Godspeed has no AC and only gets 6 miles per gallon! So, not idling and airflow are pretty important things!)

I didn't even stop to behold the wonders of the canyon. I just wanted to exit the park on the east end, go down the big hill, and coast into the gas station at Cameron. Maybe by the time I get to the gas station, I'll have my farewell text to Owner and BossLady figured out in my mind. I'll get gas and, then, go park in that big lot and send the text.

At almost a half a tank I decided to fill 'er up. But......the hot engine caused a vapor lock. I've been having lots of those recently, since the radiator, timing belt, water pump, and reconditioned radiator repair back in December. The mechanic also deleted the environmental crap that didn't allow for extra airflow into the engine area. Could that be causing the vapor locks? Maybe some oxygen-gas combustion something is out of whack? I have no idea, but with the vapor lock, the gas pump kept shutting off every .3 to .4 of a gallon put in. In the end, I fed a third-of-a-gallon into the tank at a time. Eventually, I got it filled and headed north towards Marble Canyon.

Bye-bye, rolly-polly big rock marbles! Last time I'll see you...until who-knows-when!

By the time I got to the Dominguez-Escalante "historic site" along the wide flat plain just west of the Vermillion Cliffs, the engine had been heating up to the danger zone, so I pulled over to think about how I could compose that text. I wanted to send it before reaching Jacob Lake because after Jacob Lake, I would be free.

I figured I could let Buena out on her lead. She could sit in the cooler air outside the RV while I worked on the text. People rarely stop at this historic site, which is really just a large circle with a few parking spaces. In the middle of the circle are four spokes, walkways towards the center of the circle. There's a sign that says this is part of the trail these explorers used. When passengers would see the sign and ask about this spot, I would tell them that before adding, "The Dominguez-Escalante party was also in western Colorado, just below the Grand Junction area, so they covered a significant area." I only know that fact because I stopped and read the sign posted by those canyons south of Highway 50.

SLIGHT DEVIATION FROM THE PLOT OF THIS BLOG POST,

HENCE THE DEEP INDENTATION

Now I feel like I should know more. Who were these people? Why did they matter? Why do they get a fancy circle and sign? So, I looked it up: Domínguez–Escalante expedition - Wikipedia Apparently, these were Franciscan priests who explored this remote area in 1776. So, while the Declaration of Independence is being drafted, these two dudes in their franciscan robes are out here getting goat heads stuck in their sandals while the brutal heat from the sun bears down in this sandy area with hot wind gusts. They were going from Santa Fe to Monterey.

BLOG STORY RESUMES BELOW

So, as I stood in the red sand and pulled goatheads from Buena's paws, I thought maybe I should just walk her around the circle. We did this once before, so we'll do it again. Leaving her off leash, she follows me in the gravel, sniffing at the clumps of grass growing from the desert sand. I notice she sticks to the gravel roadway and does not bound back into the sand.

I really don't want to write the text. What do I say? "Hey, I'm gone." Maybe I'll figure it out by the time I get to Kanab, for that's where I plan to spend the night--in the truck lot behind the Wendy's.

The stop sign when pulling out of the Dominguez-Escalante historical marker.

What is it about this hill down to Freedonia?

Freedonia signifies freedom.

With the town of Freedonia on the horizon, the rumble of the engine and the bumps in the road beat out a steady rhythm.

Once I'm down off the hill, I'm on my way to the freedom of a few weeks of personal time. I've got stuff to take care of...BIG stuff. I just need to get it done, and see family, and take a good breath before digging into long work hours again in the late summer.

The cellie rings out its tired tune. Boooo-do-do-dooo-do-da-da-dooooo! It's the big boss man, Mr. Owner. Should I take the call or no? The last time he called me as I drove down this hill, he talked me back into working for him at the south rim.

"Hello?"

"Pyra, where are you?" His voice, friendly. Affable.

"Um...BossLady said you all have the busses now and lots of drivers and you don't need me, so I'm on my way back to Escalante."

"We need you," he said in a pleading tone. Then, he supplied some behind-the-scenes information. Apparently an overbooking situation had occurred. He also said, "[BossLady] is out."

"Out?" I asked. Now, I knew he was frustrated with her before because when we partnered with shuttle driving last week, he let some things slip. "Yeah, she's gone. If you come back, I'll make it worth your while."

Now, I know worth your while can go two ways. It can be a fulfillment of some hopes about actually having enough cash to last the month. Or....it could mean, "Oh, gee! Isn't an extra $100 bucks worth your coming back to work?" Sure, even an extra $100 would be nice, but I've just dumped that much in escaping the job. If I went back, I'd have to put in another $100 in fuel just to get there. A day's wages wouldn't make up what I'd spend in gas returning to the job.

"Can I call you back when I get to Kanab?" I asked.

As I drove, I thought it over.

In Kanab, I called. "Okay. I'll be back for Monday morning."

I didn't even ask what "worth your while" meant, but I'm trusting that OwnerMan will make it right. More so, I'm trusting Jesus. It feels right in doing this in a Jesus-way. Jesus, take the wheel!

The road leading to the historic Paria townsite.

Sunday Surprise

In the morning, Buena and I drove eastward out of Kanab and into the morning sunlight. Golden hues illuminated the red rock, while I looked for a dirt road. I needed desert time and dirt beneath my feet. I also needed Jesus-time, so I put on the gospel bluegrass while I drove.

Buena sat by my side as I looked for a dirt road.

When I came upon the turn off for the Paria townsite, I took the dirt road. Soon the gravel and dirt turned to pure dirt...and washboard. I'd forgotten how dirt roads turned washboard. The entire RV rattled and shook. The crystal sun catcher swung violently side to side, hitting the cabinet. The pans in the stove and in the sink rattled. The hanging lights tap-tap-tapped against the ceiling as the RV swayed from side to side.

I slowed down.

The gospel bluegrass song ended, and a new one began:

Oh, Lord, won't you put me on a smooth road now

I don't think I can take it any more

Seriously. I can't even make this stuff up.

I followed the bumpy road until it felt "far enough." Then, I pulled over, and Buena and I walked the dirt and downhill until the RV was just out of sight.

This flower grew for one morning in a shady spot near the RV. I

'm glad I snapped a pic because that was the only day it bloomed.

The Way Things Are

Later, on Sunday afternoon, at the gas station in Cameron and before I made the long climb back up into the park, I checked me email.

There was something there from the red-headed BossLady, a resignation. The email was sent to the owner with all the employees copied in. No fireworks, just a simple resignation: "As of 2 p.m., I am no longer employed by the company."

Later that evening, back at the spot I'd left less than 48 hours ago, OwnerMan calls me. Can I fill in and do the scheduling?

Rather than go day-to-day, I've already coordinated and set up a two-week schedule for the drivers based on the current passenger counts.

With the schedule, I've listed my last day as June 15. Things will be slower starting the first full week in June. And, I was only supposed to work May 15 - June 15. There are things I must do before returning to Havasu.

He's asked if I want to stay on and continue working through the summer. I really wish I could. The logistical challenge of measuring van/driver availability against passenger and luggage load is actually kind of fun.

Oh...and I've also got the vans scheduled for maintenance, and one is getting new brakes. That's all happening today. I'm not driving today; I continued working until a little after nine last night just to get everything lined up with passenger lists, drivers, keys, and the luggage list. Today, I'm working my other job, which is what I should be doing now...grading papers.