Los Altos, CA.
Seven years in Los Altos.
In February 2006 we began to talk about making a major life style change. After participating in a one-year clinical trial Dennis seemed to have escaped the dire predictions of stage 4 cancer from metastasized melanoma. We had a second chance.
The message was clear and the old song rang in my head. “Enjoy yourself, it’s later than you think. Enjoy yourself, while you’re still in the pink.” Dennis retired and we decided we were free to move about the country.
In March on St. Patrick’s Day, we saw our first diesel pusher and it was an ’06 40′ Allegro Bus made by Tiffin Motor Homes. We looked at many other coaches after that but we were hooked. A year later in April we ordered our ’07 42′ Allegro Bus from Bankston Motor Homes in Huntsville, AL.
This was the result of a year of research and a year of planning and preparation. It was a year of upheaval — the pain of parting with beloved objects and the very hard and discouraging work of trying to sell them. It is extremely difficult to sacrifice the known and concrete contentment of one life for the unknown and abstract promised pleasures of a new way. Although we are acquainted with car camping and backpacking we’ve never spent so much as one day in an RV. We planned to become “fulltimers” with no prior RV trips. Nevertheless, we let go of our house, sold our garden and household goods, packed our pickup truck, loaded our two dogs, Rudi and Margot, and came to Huntsville to start our new life.
For friends and family and anyone else interested, this is a journal of our new life. They are my Letters From a Bus. We will always miss our home and garden and all our family and friends. But we have the wonderful luxury of a home on wheels and the promise of something new to discover around each bend. We do not have to walk as Bilbo does but our hearts sing along with him and his “walking song” in Tolkien’s “The Lord of the Rings.”
Roads go ever ever on
Over rock and under tree,
By caves where never sun has shown,
By streams that never find the sea;
Over snow by winter sown,
And through the merry flowers of June,
Over grass and over stone,
And under mountains of the moon.
The Road goes ever on and on
Down from the door where it began.
Now far ahead the Road has gone,
And I must follow, if I can;
Pursuing it with eager feet,
Until it joins some larger way,
Where many paths and errands meet,
And whither then? I cannot say.
— The Hobbit, J. R. R. Tolkien, 1937