The Red Writer: August 2019

POINT RICHMOND - A summer full of travels and adventures that began in early May closed out Sunday when The Red Writer trailer pulled into the condo driveway after the final leg of a cross-country drive - a 250 mile, 5-hour push from Fallon, Nevada.

The Biscuit

A 3,000+ mile trek from Seneca Lake to California was supposed to go across Ontario, Canada, through the upper peninsula of Michigan and then on a northern route though Montana until turning south in Oregon.
Note the words supposed to in that sentence.
What happened?
His name is The Biscuit, an 8-pound Yorkshire Terrier who joined the family mid-summer and wreaked a certain amount of havoc on travel plans. Ok, a lot of havoc. Originally he was to be a travel buddy on the return trip West. But after only a week in NY it was obvious he was too young and too much a puppy for me handle alone.

Admiral Fox with The Biscuit

Admiral Fox and I flew home with him in mid-July, so he could get settled into a California lifestyle. He's adjusting. We're adjusting. He hasn't asked for a surfboard yet, but he'll probably get one if he wants it. Admiral Fox has had The Biscuit on a daily crash course of learning how to be civilized. His grades are improving she says. (But maybe not quite fast enough!)
By next spring we all should be ready to drive across the Andes together. Well, maybe something a little less adventurous.
Wyoming, perhaps? Michigan? Newfoundland?
After the California hiatus to get The Biscuit home, I flew back to NY to grab the truck and trailer, only to find that the Tundra "check engine" light was on. Santo Crappo. About $300 dollars later - and nearly a week of waiting for the repair shop to fix it - the mighty Tundra and The Red Writer were back ready to roll.
The quick return drive across the U.S. - a nearly straight I-80 run across familiar territory - was rewarding, if incredibly hot. Every day was 90 degrees or hotter.

Only two massive thunderstorms overtook me - both times while safely in campgrounds: one in Davenport, Iowa, the second in Ogallala, Nebraska. Quite a change from the eastward trip.
I have a notebook full of entries about the people, places and adventurous mishaps (of course...) from the westward leg of the trip. Those will spill out here in coming weeks as I try to make sense of my handwriting.
But for the moment, here are a few photos.