Returning to the US: Back in the Dirty T

I arrived in Rexburg, Idaho at the end of January without a winter coat. That’s how my year was going. Then I learned there wasn’t really a place for the dogs: No securely fenced area for them to go off-leash and they weren’t even supposed to be in the house. It was beyond cold outside and them sleeping in an outbuilding alone in a strange place just wasn’t going to happen so we were able to negotiate main floor privileges. The bedrooms were all upstairs so we ended up on a sofa sleeper. Sherman was pupset and refused to poop.

Sherman also failed to understand why he wasn’t allowed to chase deer through pastures.

We were there just over three (very long) weeks and pretty much every day was exactly like that: The housing picture, the jobs picture, the weather picture…all bleak. I had forgotten about rural Idaho’s paved country roads being really shitty for walking dogs.

Lulu also didn’t enjoy the lack of freedom but at least she could scratch her back.

Literally every single thing I needed to do was a fucking struggle: Laundry, dishes, bathing, heat, you name it.  If you know me, you can imagine my mood. Due to reasons I still don’t fully understand, we ended up in a goddamned RV in the middle of winter with two big dogs and basically frozen everything.

The dogs were afraid of the sounds associated with de-winterization. They took refuge on my lap.

Ice Station Zebra was clearly not a viable solution for any of us. It was important that we experience it firsthand to know that area, while beautiful, isn’t the right spot. We both wanted to be in the warm sunshine so we made plans to head back to Arizona. Finding suitable housing close to human and canine recreation spots was super simple. The extreme difference in level of difficulty just reinforced my opinion that this was the right move. I couldn’t get loaded up fast enough.

The morning we (finally) left Idaho, I was dragged to the ground *hard* by my dogs bolting out of the RV to fight an obese chocolate lab. Because rural people still do not believe in confining their dogs. Thanks a lot, dicks. It wouldn’t be a road trip without a mechanical delay so we spent an extra night in Green River, Utah waiting for a new serpentine belt and roller for the truck. Under normal circumstances, I would have wanted to stop near Moab for some hiking but I was seriously so done with all of this shit that we just powered through the rest of the drive.

We arrived in Tucson late on February 24, making it a 40-day trip covering more than 3,000 miles. Both dogs immediately pooped in the bark park and suddenly all was right with the world once again.

Click the links below to see how we got to this point.

Returning to the US: Who Doesn’t Love a 1,000 Mile Detour?

Returning to the US: Motocross Heaven and the Tow of Shame

Returning to the US: He Literally Thought I Was Dead

Returning to the US: Sherman, I Just Really Need You to Poop

Returning to the US: Leaving Todos Santos

Returning to the US: First the Why

Returning to the US: Who Doesn’t Love a 1,000 Mile Detour?

If you think this series is tedious, you should have been on the road with us! Let’s fast-forward a bit:

Aaron somehow forgot to order the tire and then delivery was delayed twice due to a winter storm so we were stuck in the RV with the dogs for a total of 9 ½ days. That was awesome. We left Ocotillo Wells on January 28 and I had another blowout (driver’s rear) just east of Twentynine Palms. A normal person would wonder what the hell kind of shape they were in for this to keep happening. The tread was still good on the remaining three. AARON CHECKED THEM. So back on the donut I went.

We just happened to need fuel when we made our way to Amboy, California. This place has an amazing history and an ongoing lack of potable water. As such, the café is only a gift shop and there are no working restrooms. This is exactly the kind of place I could spend an entire day exploring so it really sucked that we were so pressed for time. Here are a few pics I was able to grab while we tried to get the dogs to potty.

Kelso is another town I would have loved to photograph but we just couldn’t stop.

Kelso Depot courtesy Andrew Stack

We spent the night at a hotel adjacent to a casino in Mesquite, Nevada and hoo-boy, was that an experience. We’ve all seen some sad walks of shame but these were like rock bottom. I had all three tires replaced the next morning and the bf asked the tire guy his thoughts about whether the Mighty Dodge would make it all the way to Idaho with its four bald, mismatched tires. I think he gave it 50-50 odds.

We then attempted to power through Utah but were stopped by heavy, wet snow in Nephi. The truck was hydroplaning on basically anything wet for obvious reasons so we thought it best to take no chances. The place we stayed looked normal on the outside but our first assigned room had water dripping through the ceiling. I guess the pet annex doesn’t get the same level of maintenance.

So we FINALLY made it to our destination in Southeast Idaho on Saturday, January 30…more than two weeks after leaving Todos Santos. We had driven more than 2,000 miles and I rolled about 520 of them on that stupid donut. The dogs and I were so happy to get out of the Jeep and finally get settled again…but were we???

Click the links below to see how we got to this point.

Returning to the US: Motocross Heaven and the Tow of Shame

Returning to the US: He Literally Thought I Was Dead

Returning to the US: Sherman, I Just Really Need You to Poop

Returning to the US: Leaving Todos Santos

Returning to the US: First the Why

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