Alexis Hartz, Author

What was I thinking? Today is the day. It’s a gorgeous fall day in Arizona. It’s 6am on a Friday morning and the highway traffic noise is already humming up through the neighborhood like a faulty air conditioning system. Sitting on the patio with coffee in hand, legs propped up on one of the southwestern carved chests Hank rescued from his last hotel’s renovation I consider again my plans for the day. Soon I’ll join the frenzied highway traffic heading south on the loop around the city, past the Buckeye exit and around the Estrella mountain range where the landscape and traffic clear. It’s a straight shot to Tucson from there, passing exits connected to pain points in my past. Still beautiful, but prickly like the cactus. Wild Horse Pass, Eloy, Picacho Peak National Park, Pinal Air Park, Tucson Outlet Stores, Saguaro National Park, and the Tucson exits to historic El Charro Café and the La Paloma Resort are all bookmarks to chapters of my Arizona life. Passing Tucson, I venture

Oh she's a beauty. Doesn't look like much from the outside, but inside she's cozy, and clean, and comfortable. She's been loved, and she's ready for someone to take her on the road again. I've outgrown her. All of my work-camper friends said that I would. Some told me that I'd upgrade to a newer model. Others were sure that I'd find solace in a smaller rig. I still haven't decided which way I'll go, but I do know for sure that I will have another home on wheels. Living in my motor coach has been more than a dream come true. It's been a great privilege to park in magnificent places, surrounded by views that even the ultra-rich can hardly afford.  It's been a great blessing of kind neighbors sharing potluck dinners and telling stories 'round the campfire. It's been an intimate connection with nature, particularly the sounds of soft gentle rain on the rooftop and the ever-present call of a hoot owl outside of my window.