Yes, that's how it is spelled, "Workamping" a term fashioned by an organization called "Workamper News" which has pioneered the now burgeoning movement to live in ones RV and work while traveling.https://www.workamper.com/, Which I did since October 2017.
It's a long and disappointing story punctuated with many negative experiences. Highs and lows but mostly lows.
I Workamped in Mesa Arizona at an RV Resort. It was nothing to write home about but the people were nice.
I made some friends and had a few laughs thank you Mr. Hilariousness, part of the terrific duo, The funny one paired with his very gentle and sometimes candid British Ex-pat wife. had me in stitches most of the time.
The poor people of Mesa and perhaps Arizona, in general, have terrible air quality, the worst drivers in the world aside from Florida and the speed demons of Detroit and not to forget the careless Oregonian drivers. Even when the wind is not blowing, there is this unseen dust in the air. It gets in your ears and I could feel myself breathe it in. It settled on my tongue and then my sinuses clogged up as it spread to my chest. I had a constant heaviness as my breath struggled to find a clear airway.
It was only after we made the Oregon State line on our return trip home, did I start to feel as if I could breathe again. I am to this day and it is February still a little clogged.
That was only one negative connected to living in the real "Wild West." I won't say anymore so as not to tempt those sweet Arizonians to a better climate for their health. SEATTLE!!! oops, didn't say that...
However, I must speak to you carnivores at this point in time, BEEF! cheap!! and delicious! I ate steak almost a couple times a week! The beauty of the meat was amazing and inexpensive as well.
What occurred was we made it to our lovely Workamper campsite, one day from what I realized was a monthly event: "A Patio Sale." I was exhausted from the journey, a few days of breakneck traveling to be there for the deadline to begin working. As it turned out we needn't have traveled so fast as they did not put us to work for 2 weeks! My first bleary-eyed Saturday found me sitting in my new camp chair, gazing at a sea of Class A motorhomes across from us, beside us and behind us. No sunshine, just gray overcast sky and the sounds of cars whizzing by on the highway behind us. I fought my disappointment. However, something was occurring.
People in golf carts were slowly passing by loaded down with lamps, hoses, various treasures grasped as they drove one handed down the narrow lanes. I noticed my neighbor whom I came to know as, "Pastor Bill," put out one thing. A grill. I sat and contemplated this little grill; it wasn't a Hibachi, which I was in the market for. It wasn't a junk kettle barbecue, which I had the non-junk version at home. It Was a Weber, hmm... a known name for quality in the grilling business. I was afraid to leave my chair for a closer look as I hadn't even met these people yet, and my hair was standing up: I knew this as I could feel the soft breezes whip at my strays.
However, I was dressed and had shoes on. As I stood up the neighbor to the right, Mr. Hilariousness came over and said, "you need that. grill" At that point in our relationship, I was not able to decipher whether he was serious or joking. I thought, "yes I do." yet at the same time talking myself out of it.
My mind churning about money issues, not even knowing where my credit card charges were due to the journey and charging campsites and fuel. Always hoping to catch up with my 'New job."(which never happened.)
The man on site, was in front of one of the nicest "A class'" I'd ever seen. From here on known as "Pastor Bill, " came out immediately with his hand extended for a shake. I sheepishly shook his hand being uncertain about myself and my place in this Snowbird world. "I'm Bill from Colorado," he said. I should mention we all wore name tags, plastic dealies with our names and states on them. (cautioned not to let anyone see us without it being employees, I immediately discarded mine, attaching it to my work shirt. ) "Pastor Bill" began to explain the life of the grill and for some reason, I heard nothing. I think it's my nature upon meeting people to see only what is apparent; mannerisms, appearance, gestures. "Pastor Bill" was not unique in looks, his balding head glowed as did his smile which by the way was rare. His handshake was firm and confident. After I wrote him a check for $25.00 which I sensed he was hesitant to take, (which I credit to my haggard appearance), he said,"if you need me to come by and show you how to operate it let me know, anytime." His wife came out and handed me a grill mat to which the two of them conversed about whether I needed or not and if there was even one left in the package."Cindy" replied that there was one in the package and even if there wasn't that I would probably like to know what they were. I responded,"yeah Id like to use those." not knowing at all what they were talking about. "Pastor Bill" carried the grill to my site placing it out of tripping range.
Then Mr. Hilarious began hawking his wares, model airplane parts(the real ones that actually fly), I saw the Mrs, Ex-pat, put out some plates, glass plates. Normal dining, not the red plastic, "Dollar Store," made in China plates that my food often slid off of onto the ground. Then she looked at me and said with her confusing, British, Canadian, English,"Free." I rushed over. "Keep the birds from Shi__ting on your roof," Mr. Hilarious called to the passing golf carts, showing off his plastic owl for $5.00.
I indicated I wanted the "free" China. "it would be so nice to eat on real plates," I said. Thus began our daily check-ins with some of the kindest and gracious people I'd ever met.
It wasn't until much later did I use the grill. Probably would not have used it at all had Mr. Hilariousnesst pushed me past my hesitation, becoming a go-between, Finally, Pastor Bill came over and said,"I heard you needed me to help you light the grill." Bewildered I stammered, "Oh sure, how about tomorrow evening?" he said,"Ok, just come and get me." I later realized it was Mr. Hilariousness who initiated this.
Now I'm a pretty easy going person and therefore the manipulation didn't bother me so much. Pastor Bill became a familiar person to me, especially after I scorched him the first time we lit the grill.
I made a special trip to Albertsons for steaks but came home with ribs and I still did not go and get the pastor to help me. The little grill sat on the ground beside the door, its black plastic cover stating it was a "WEBER" blaring at me each time I went in or came out. Finally... I went over after I tried to light it. My fear, unveiled as propane tank trepidation, plastic lighters, and fire,, vivid memories of a former life when I opened a grill and poof gone were my eyebrows! Besides I had someone to help me overcome my fears of fire and he was as close to God as they come being a Pastor. How could I not get this done?
I walked the 20 feet to the door of the big RV and knocked, the screen was shut but the door was open and I could see some feet in a recliner, as my eyes adjusted I saw Pastor Bill with his eyes closed in that recliner. His wife Cindy's feet appeared as she descended the few stairs to the door. I said quietly,"light the grill?" She smiled and called to him, he quickly answered,"I'll be right over."
He talked me through it, Of course, I heard nothing and he hit the electronic ignitor; POOF!! he jumped back as the flame jumped high into the air sending the grill mat flying. "Crap!" I said, apologizing profusely realizing the fire had scorched the hair on his arm. Of course, I had stupidly fiddled with it all before I went for help and left the gas on. He quickly denied any harm done and schooled me on lighting the damn thing and made a fast exit.
My guilt plagued me, each day. I went out of my way to greet this man anytime I saw him at the Post Office where I worked or in passing. I met Cindy, his wife, in the laundry mat and we spoke of her life and I poured out mine easily just because I knew it was her job to listen. Hoping I could be some kind of a friend rather than just another needy church person searching for wisdom or prestige from a pastor's wife.
(Having been the best friend of a pastors wife, therefore, I was privy to her unique position.)
Last night I watched a VLOG I follow called "Long ,Long, Honeymoon. "http://longlonghoneymoon.com/ and learned the value my Patio Sale treasure. My $25.00 grill, "that I needed," has taken up residence off my deck in my side yard, on a plastic table. Its name "Weber" proudly announcing the many steaks and ribs and chicken grills we have enjoyed. Each time it "poofs "sending its 3rd grill matt into the air slightly, I remember with reluctance the day I almost killed myself and a man of God... I pray that incident will be merely a vague memory of his if he ever remembers me at all.
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| "Holy Grill" |
