Part 2 of Day #5 of 10 Days, 10 States Chapter 51 – My Journey to Oregon 3.2.2022
Leaving Picacho, I tell my son, “we must talk as we roll into Sedona, I must hear your thoughts as it comes into view”. In awe, I forgot I had said this to him, as my phone rings through my Jeep speakers 2 hours later and the colorful, magical, glorious, rock formations come into view as the sun begins to set. It’s my son. We’re in Sedona!
“Hi, Mom. Wow, it’s gorgeous”, he said, as I came back to my senses. “Are you crying?!” I basically yelled into the air. “No, not crying, but it’s amazing!” Sigh, I have to do this again. “I’m crying! Again” I replied. “Just wait, there’s more and it gets more beautiful.” I calmed down as to not be annoying. I am sure he is nearing his limits with me at this point [but, later, we’ll learn we were just at the cusp].
We scored a beautiful room at the very low rate of $63 at the Residence Inn [thanks to my big brother] and we arrived just before sunset. If you’ve ever been to Sedona, you know that even a $200 per day rate is a score.
This hotel left me speechless in it’s beauty, but left us both frustrated in their labyrinth-like layout. It took about 15 minutes to find our room! We were frustrated, but looking around at the beauty among us, we laughed, over and over. We finally found our room and my dear son headed out to find us some evening libations.
As we settled in and prepared for our next night, camping at the Grand Canyon, the libations led us to believe it would be a great idea to instead find an AirB&B near the Grand Canyon. The MoonTrimmer is now our life.
This frikkin’ place. A hippy’s dream. A naturalist’s goal. A 51 year old menopausal woman who is traveling across the country in a 2-door jeep with a cat and having to eliminate her waste into a bucket with possible chainsaw murderers roaming around while she attempts to sleep in a 3×8 space with her cat on my head’s uhhhh, dream too! [it was nightmare-ish at the time, but once I woke after 1 hour sleep throughout the entire night by the sound of my cat howling back at the coyote’s, it was pretty cool]
We had wine, burned a guitar, well because hey, it don’t f@ckin’ matter, and we saw the actual milky way. The night was pitch black but the stars were transparent in who they really were. They were glorious and did not disappoint.
Seeing that this is “Jaclyn, in real life” I will concede to telling you that while my cat howling and climbing among our heads was what woke us that early morning, what kept us awake was my fear of pooping. [You can exit this blog post now if you’d like].
You were warned!
So, trying to calm my cat, I stand up, move around and my stomach begins to wake. Seriously, I try to wrangle the orange beast that I call the Captain, and begin to giggle as the most gas I’ve had in months decides to release from my skin suit.
At 51, farts still make me laugh and I feel it coming on strong. My son, annoyed with my cat and I, is now making sounds of waking. I laugh harder as the gas begins to escape uncontrollably. I cannot stop laughing and this triggers a gut reaction to release various versions of farts. Each one, stranger and louder than the previous. It must have been the elevation? The road food? Who cares!? To me, it was frikkin’ hilarous! My laughter ensued and my son finally joined in.
Still unhappy at waking at such an early hour and keeping with our pact of “not going #2 in the camp” we pack up swiftly just before sunrise and head to the corner store, through a rough terrain I must add, to find relief.
The corner store is closed. I ask my Jeep, “where is the next convenience store?” It replies, 5 miles ahead, and so we go. Nature decided it wasn’t time yet, despite all of the teasers and we head out to the Grand Canyon, me, still hysterically laughing at the morning events.
….head to the next post to hear what happens after that
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