It is Christmas Eve Day. I made it to New Mexico, all the way south and west in New Mexico, right on the Arizona border and an hour from the Mexico border, to Rusty’s RV Ranch. I am amazed that I am here. This is the third time I’ve been here; the first two times with with Bob. He loved loved loved it here and so do I. As I got close to Rusty’s, as I pulled in, set up, it hit me how much I’ve learned, how much confidence I’ve gained over the last two months. And how much I miss Bob.
I have covered a lot of ground in the past few weeks, all of it in Texas. Texas is friggin’ huge. Did you see Thelma and Louise? Do remember how one of them, Louise I think, refused to go into Texas? Texas always felt that way to me; a place I really didn’t ever want to go. No more. I have no doubt I will go back to many places in Texas.
Big Bend National Park. Wow. Expansive, beautiful, dramatic, big skies, mountains, desert, stars. We stayed in a town called Terlingua, a seriously funky place west of the park. It’s a town that feels like there are no rules. Houses, shops, restaurants, businesses, sheds, old Airstreams painted with vibrant designs, vehicles, spread out in disarray, no rhyme or reason. It’s dry, it’s dusty, very Western. It seems like a place that people go because they’re done with the nutty pace of modern life. A mix of hippies and cowboys.
My friend Susan met us there. I met her in California when I moved there to be with Bob. I had to work on getting licensed in CA and she was one of my supervisors. She was such a good friend to me when I was trying to find my place there. Talk about fiercely independent. She is riding around in a travel van, taking it all in. She loves to keep moving, to see things, to hike, to explore, but more than anything, to play pickleball. She finds pickleball games everywhere. I’m not sure how she lived her life before pickleball became a thing.
The second day, Susan and I went for two awesome hikes, one on the Mule Ears trail, named that because of the formations that look like mule’s ears, and one on the Santa Elena trail that takes you into a breathtaking canyon with the Rio Grande running through it. Spectacular.
When we returned to camp, Christine, who had stayed “home,” told me that I had a broken leaf spring on a my trailer. She showed me how it was cracked in half. I had no idea what a leaf spring is, or that such a thing even existed until she told me I had a broken one. Here is a description of what they are I found online: “Like many auto parts, a leaf spring is one of those things you never know you need until it breaks or wears down.” Truth. “For centuries, people have used leaf springs to smooth out their rides, whether in an automobile or a horse-drawn carriage.” Interesting. “Leaf springs are essential to our utility and comfort as you drive a truck and tow any loads.”
It was late afternoon and I was pooped from our hiking day. The conversation with Christine about leaf springs made me realize that I was faced with something you have to accept when you are traveling this way- you may get stuck places if you have problems. We were in the middle of nowhere and I had to find a person who could fix the leaf spring before I moved on, and, maybe even more challenging, I had to get a new leaf spring out there. I was too tired to deal with it. I put it out of my mind until the morning.
I woke up early and did some Googling. I found a mobile RV guy, Steve, who was in Terlingua. I waited until 8:00 to call him. He picked up the phone and said he would be there within an hour. What!? He told me it would be hard to get a new leaf spring, but that he has a friend in town that has an RV junkyard, and he felt pretty confident he could find a used leaf spring there. Wow.
I put Steve’s name in my phone as “Steve Terlingua” even though that obviously isn’t his name. I prefer to call him that; he personifies Terlingua. He has stepped out of the rat race, (actually not sure he ever stepped into it) marches to the beat of his own drummer. He is a story teller. In the few interactions I had with him, I learned so much about him.
Steve showed up a couple of hours later (Terlingua time) and was reassuring but realistic. He was going to the town of Alpine to do some work, and would see if he could get the part there. If not, he was very confident that his friend Wayne with the RV junkyard would have the part. My hopes were raised. But, he went on, it is possible that he wouldn’t have it, and that I really shouldn’t go down the road with a broken leaf spring. My hopes fell. I began to mentally prepare myself for staying in Terlingua longer than I expected. He called later in the day to tell me he wasn’t able to get the part in Alpine. He said he would be out in the morning to take the leaf spring off, take it to Wayne’s junkyard, and see if he could find the right part. I told him we would be gone all day hiking the next day. “No problem! I don’t need you there. Enjoy your hike!”
The long and the short of it is that Steve found me a used leaf spring at Wayne’s junkyard that was in good shape. Wayne helped him replace it, as Steve said “I’m too old to be doing this on my own” which involved laying on the gravel. Wayne also noticed that one of the other leaf springs (there are four of them) was in bad shape. They replaced that one too.
Wayne and Steve are opposites. Wayne is a man of few words. Steve is a man of many words. When they came back to put the second leaf spring on, we sat around shooting the shit as Steve meticulously prepared his invoice.
Steve talked about his attitude toward life and helping others. The man was dripping with kindness and integrity. I knew from the first that he was going to do everything he could to help me, because that’s who he is. He told me he has two shoeboxes full of thank you notes from people who he has helped over the 15 years of doing this work. He told me that Wayne’s wife has a sign in their house that says “ WORK HARD, BE KIND.” Steve said he loves that sign and that’s what he lives by. Wayne piped up at the point and said the only words I think I heard him utter: “I don’t.” Love that guy too.
I told Steve that he was an angel, and I had no doubt he would be going to heaven. He said “But I wouldn’t know anybody there!”
So here is the real kicker. When we went to the hot springs in Big Bend, which I will describe in my next post, there were trinkets that Mexican people from across the border had made and put out on blankets. They were left there with a sign and a can. The sign said to leave money in the can if you wanted to purchase one of the trinkets…
The next morning Steve Terlingua came by to help Susan with a plumbing issue she had in her van. He brought me a present- a beautiful little trinket he got from the hot springs. He said that he knew the people in that community and liked to help them. When he did a job, he liked to thank the person who employed him for giving him the work. And he liked to be able to give back to a community in need. He said he had left at 4:00AM that morning to go enjoy the hot springs (an hours drive away) and pick up a trinket for me. Helper. Extraordinary/Ordinary man.
Steve told me to call him if we come into town again. “Not just if you need help, just to say hi.” I attached the trinket, a little desert bush and a rattle snake, to my dinette table to help me remember him. Knowing him has changed me for the better.
