Family Ties is the twenty-second installment of Finding My Way Home. To view the previous installment, click here. If you wish to start from the beginning, click here. This is the ongoing story of the six years I spent as a vagabond photographer.

In order to stay within my monthly budget, I have to stretch out fuel expenses over time. A day of driving is more expensive than a day of staying in an RV park. Especially if I’m paying a weekly or monthly rate. It is with this in mind that I have made a reservation for a week in Meeker, Colorado. It’s not a place I would go as a destination, but it is on my way to Paonia, and there is an RV park that offers a discounted rate for weekly stays. It’s also situated on a river, which will make my water dog very happy.

I knew this was probably not going to be my best stay ever, but it was much worse than that. To start, there is no Verizon signal. Only the second place I have ever stayed with no service at all. Some places I could only send texts, but not make or receive calls. Here, there is not even that. And, as luck would have it, my son needs to speak with me and know where I’m going to be when he arrives from Rhode Island. I drive into town and stop at the first gas station. I ask the clerk about cell service. She has no idea where I might find a Verizon signal because she uses AT&T. I ask a customer, and another one, all have AT&T. I drive towards Rifle, knowing that I had cell service when I was there before. It’s about forty miles from where I’m staying and I pick up a signal about thirty miles down the road. I call my son and let him know the situation. We make plans for me to call him in a few days, right before he leaves.

Now back at camp, I get the distinct feeling I’m being watched. When I checked in, the camp host directed me to a site directly across from their trailer, even though most of the park was empty. I’ve run into this situation before, where most guests are either regulars or long-term residents and any newcomer is eyed suspiciously. I don’t like the idea that I’m under “surveillance,” but have nothing to hide so I go about my business. When I asked if it was okay to let Luna off leash, I was told it was fine. Off we go to the river and in the water she goes. The river is pretty low and not moving very fast, but she’s happy, as always, to swim. I notice when we go back to the motor home, that she smells a little like stagnant water, so I decide to rinse her off before I towel her and bring her back inside.

I hook her leash on a post behind the motor home and run inside to get a towel. The second I turn on the outside shower, I hear yelling. When I turn around, I see the camp host shaking her head and yelling at me to turn it off! Once it’s off, I ask what is the problem. She tells me that all the water is hauled in and that she and her husband are the ones who have to do it. I assure her that I am not going to waste the water, and even offer to skip my own shower the next day if I could just rinse the smelly river water off my dog. She tells me absolutely not, and if I do, she will ask me to leave without a refund. She tells me to toss the dog in the river if she needs rinsing. I explain to her that the dog went in the river already and it smells nasty, which is why I want to rinse her off. After a long lecture about how the water is for people and not dogs, I get the distinct impression that she dislikes dogs. I will just have to towel Luna off and deal with it until my next stop. Unfortunately for her, this means no more swimming in the river here.

On the morning of the scheduled call with my son, I drive the thirty miles till I have bars on my phone, then look for a good place to park. After finding a nice pullout, I’m preparing to call when I notice something moving in the brush. The camera is with me, just in case, so I get it out and check the settings. Just then, the cutest little fawn pops its head out of the bushes and looks right at me. The little darling decides to move to another bush, a bit farther away from my car and I get back to making my call. We share schedules, make arrangements, and it looks like he will be arriving in Paonia either the same day or one day after me.

Unfortunately, I don’t yet have a reservation and am having a difficult time finding a place to stay that’s in or near Paonia. Last time I visited, I stayed in Delta, but this time I was hoping to find accommodations a little nearer. A call to my aunt nets me a lead, but I will have to contact the park when I get there because I obviously can’t receive a call back after leaving a message.

Two days later, happy to leave the intense scrutiny of the camp host, I’m on my way and hoping. I call the number of the park, in Hotchkiss, Colorado and leave a message. Shortly after, I get a call back and I have a place to stay for the week. When I arrive, I can’t believe how pretty the place is. Set up on a hill with a nice view of the valley below, it’s like a park, with a huge green lawn in the middle and RV spaces around the edges. Only about ten miles from where my Aunt lives, the location is perfect!

My daughter and her partner arrive shortly after I arrive and set up. Not long after that, I get a call from my son, who is on the way and getting close. But, he’s having car trouble and doesn’t know exactly when (or if) he will arrive that evening. I give him the address and directions and cross my fingers.

Later that night, he pulls in to the RV park. His car didn’t break down, but apparently had some trouble with the high altitude, being from a sea-level location. The next day, I call my aunt Sally and let her know my kids are here and we make arrangements to have dinner with her and her family a few days later. They have just moved in to a new place, and are still unpacking and getting settled in. Although the timing is not great, they graciously invite us over.

They also encourage me to bring Luna, since they have a fenced yard and two friendly, playful dogs to keep her company. I’m torn about whether to bring her. On the one hand, she loves to meet new people and dogs. Also, I could stay as long as I like without having to rush back and let her out to potty. On the other hand, she has learned to ride peacefully in the motor home, but still has massive anxiety when riding in the car. It’s only a ten mile ride, so I convince myself this will help her learn to be at peace in the car.

Just like every other time I’ve decided to take her in the car, I regret it. You have no idea how long ten miles is until you drive it with a howling, crying, freaking out, seventy pound labrador. As usual, once we get there, she is fine. She has a great evening playing with the other dogs. And she loves my aunt’s family petting and fawning over her.

As for the people, we also have a great time. After a delicious dinner and conversation, me and my kids spend a couple hours with my aunt, sitting on the floor of her bedroom, looking through a box of old photos of her, my dad, my grandparents, and their many adventures in life. It’s a special gift to see all the old family photos. I only have a handful of photos from my childhood. After my father died and my mom remarried, she disposed of most of our family photos. I didn’t find out until they were already gone.

Though I sold and disposed of a lot of stuff when I downsized to go on the road, I made sure to preserve the photos. I want my children to have that connection to their past, and hopefully, their children as well.

Reluctant to say goodbye, we finally call it a night and head back. Luna is a little better on the way home, since she is tired from all the play. My son manages to talk her down for at least part of the way and we make it home with less trauma than the outbound trip.

I feel joyful after seeing all those old photos and finally getting this part of the extended family together for the first time. Family ties are the best!