Traveling on home...

I posted this message on Rughookers, realized it's too long for a message, so I copied it over here onto my blog.

I am in Colorado, taking an early afternoon of rest from driving.  I left Cambria yesterday after spending part of the morning watching the ocean waves at Moonstone Beach.  There were a few people in wetsuits getting knocked off of their surfboards by fairly big waves - I took a lot of photos that I might be able to use for painting or rug patterns - then I headed for the desert.
Every time I have crossed the Mohave Desert, I have been curious about all of the small deserted old buildings.  I couldn't imagine living in some of those locations, baking in the hot sun in those tiny little houses.  My camp roommate, Grace K., cleared up the mystery for me - those were places that were homesteaded a long time ago.  The people had to leave when their wells dried up or when the federal government took over the land.

I drove to Las Vegas, stopped on the west side of the city to get a hamburger, and promptly got lost.  My gps deserted me, wouldn't even tell me to "turn left, turn left now, make a U-turn".  So I lost about a hour, hoping to find a police car to ask for help, finally stopped at a gas station and asked a customer for directions - picked the best looking guy in the area and he was very helpful. When I was once again on the highway, I started looking for a motel, since it was a hundred and four degrees - too hot to sleep in the car. Then, I was suddenly stopped by a cop car.  The elusive car I needed an hour earlier.  I was sure I had only been going 70 and being passed by cars going much faster, so I waited to hear what law I had broken.  They stopped me only to see if I was okay, because I was going slower than the rest of the traffic and kind of wavering in my driving lane (must have been when I was reaching for fudge and pistachios - or my giant water bottle.)  Later, I remembered that about the same thing happened in about the same place last year - Las Vegas police must be on the look-out for white-haired old folks.  Anyway, they told me the motels were all about an hour ahead - so I moved on, stopped in a funny little old motel run by a lady who was making cats out of yarn - and teaching a younger woman how to make one.  Fiber artists everywhere.

So today, I drove through the beautiful Utah landscape that I missed seeing on the way out when I drove through the whole state in the pitch dark.  Once again, it's too hot to sleep in the car, although I took a power nap that was only supposed to be 15 minutes and turned into a hour when I found some shade under a tree near a gas station.  Now, in a nice motel, I've rested for a while and am debating about going to dinner or going swimming - and then maybe bringing my hooking into the motel for a couple hours of hooking - or, maybe painting.

I promise I'll post photos soon...