Casino Royal Swim | Lake Charles, Louisiana

April 19-20, 2012

Southern heat is unrelenting and we are wilting as we try to make good time. We get as far as Lake Charles, near Lafayette, Louisiana and the casinos are shouting out their existence via billboards along the highway. Feeling lucky, I pull off to one that looks promising called L’Auberge Du Lac. I put a call in to my friend Frannie, who knows casinos inside and out. She landed Diesel and me a free week’s stay in Vegas last year. But this isn’t Vegas; there are no deals on rooms; and I am in desperate need of a shower. 

I pull into the parking lot that has arrows to the RV side, of course every casino’s parking lot would be open to RVs. So I clean up as best I can and hit the seafood buffet, give myself a tour of the beautiful air conditioned casino, lose a little money and stop for a night cap before heading back to the van. In the AM, I cruise out to the pool area and see that it requires checking in. When the pool opens I figure I'll give it a shot and tell the attendant Room 417 and see if I can’t just bluff my way in.

 I have time to kill so I decide I should actually make sure there is a room 417 and head to the elevator. Walking down the deep-carpeted hallway, I see room 417’s door open, and surprisingly this 40 something blond woman comes out who looks lot like me. I join her in the elevator and making small talk, ask if she is going to the pool. She shakes her head and says she is joining her husband for brunch. Spy quality feelings fill me as I smile over my good sleuthing and we depart on the first floor as I head to the pool. “Christine Hendrick room 417 please” I say with such authority, that the attendant replies “of course” and hands me a towel, a key to a locker and a wrist band so I can come and go from the pool area. Now, I don’t know where that name came from but it has such an “above suspicion” air that it works.

I enter a landscape architect’s dream. The pool is a river that snakes its way around sculptural islands, under bridges, fed by waterfalls and with a strong current to it. I find myself floating by a swim-up bar sunken into the side of the river with a thatched roof. I think, “Would Ms. Hendrick charge a drink to Ms. 417’s hotel bill?” Debating this moral dilemma proved too long for the current, which had moved me past my temptation and was happily distracted by a surprise waterfall under a bridge. I finish my slumming in the Jacuzzi and washed my hair in the bathhouse. This takes the miles I have traveled right out of my bones. I’m soft and relaxed returning to the van. Feeling lucky? yep, like I just won the jackpot.

From the 4th Floor...would you call this a Pool Complex?

THE DEPARTURE

THE DEPARTURE

January 26 – February 1, 2012
San Francisco - New Mexico

Packing furiously, then pensively, take a break and have a drink with a friend. Run errands, collect money, and pay bills. Up till 12:30 the night before, just walking stuff to the van from the loft back and forth a million times.  I was methodical but it was never ending. I figured, in the end, I’d sleep in and not do the 6am departure. Why hurry? I have six days to get to New Mexico. 

This is the second road test Foxy Brown gets before the big road trip in April. Her first test was last summer’s excursion in New Mexico, Utah and Nevada for two months, which she managed beautifully for a 1983 Chevy. She is outfitted with a bed, an extra battery to power my office and lights. Two skylights that are rimmed in gold shag rug. With only 50K miles on her she has a long life ahead of her for a child of the 70's.

I’m packing for cold and hot climates; I’m packing a completely functional field kitchen and a complete office. My office entails a laptop, iphone, two backup drives, keyboard, mouse, headphones, speakers, camera, tax files, files, resource books, and blank DVDs. The artwork that will make the trip is the Amusement Architecture series and the few paintings I have done of Maine. I’ll take the raw canvas and lay it on the floor of the van and cover it with a canvas tarp then a rug. I strap in all the paintings that fit along the wall behind the drivers seat. The framed prints of the Birds On a Wire are boxed and bagged and go into the Cargo box on the roof.

For the last time, I take Diesel to Heron’s Head to walk along the bay. I am hyper sensitive about Diesel getting into trouble the day before we leave, as we can’t afford the time or money for a vet visit. Last summer, he wiped out on a run the day we were leaving New Mexico. The poor boy had to travel with stitches and see a vet in Las Vegas to get them out.  But he deserves to get off leash and run a bit along the sea to stretch his legs that will not be stretch for the next couple of days in the van. Of course on our walk, a skank punk girl is walking her aggressive pit bull ahead of us. I slow down but she stops altogether to let her dog run through the wetlands. She then releashs him and he strains and slobbers bloody hell when we pass. Upon our return walk back down the path she has him again off leash. This time I yell to her to releash him so we can pass. She yells back, “ he’s okay, it will be fine.” As the pit bull is charging us with fiendish menace, I stand between Diesel and Satan’s muscle coming our way. I lower myself to brace for impact and yell No! The growling gristle stops at the force of my voice and stands uncertain but still growling and barking in protest. Sensing I have the upper hand I take a threatening step towards it and yell Go! It backs off a little and skank girl comes up and tells me it will be fine as she puts canine warrior on a leash. I’m amazed that Diesel was completely indifferent to this exchange and thrilled the vet bill has been thwarted.  Now is a good time to hit the road.

Base Camp at Joshua Tree

We are finally on the road at 10 am. I’ve got tons of audio books lined up, new music and all my podcasts up to date. But the whistle of my little triangle window that doesn’t fully clasp shut, drowns out my new speakers. Put that on the fix list. Stopped in a truck stop and slept the first night. Made Joshua Tree National Park the next day. Camped there for two beautiful nights then drove down to the strange and faded glory of the Salton Sea area. Stayed over night at a truck stop in Yuma and headed for Tucson in the AM. The next night I stayed with childhood friend, Jill Plotner, she lives in Tucson and found me on Facebook last year. We reconnected last June on my way down to New Mexico. We laughed at old pictures of us at 10 or 11 years old climbing the rocks of Mount Desert Island, Maine. This time, I got to meet her husband and wonderful 21-year-old daughter. 

Picnic at White Sands

On the road again the next morning and took RT 10 down to Las Cruces to stayed at another truck stop. Love the truck stops- free overnight stays, safe, free hot water, showers and nice bathrooms. I text my location to a number of friends who don't think so highly of truck stops. In the AM, we head east and stop at White Sands National Monument…sand dunes from another planet. It’s brilliant white talcum powder sand that looks like snow and boasts the first nuclear bomb exploded here. Well, exploded way north of the Park, but it does border a still active military shooting range. Wonderfully strange New Mexico, we have arrived! We break for a picnic while Diesel finally got to stretch his legs with a run through the dunes.

We arrive in Corrales , New Mexico at 7pm and Sara, my host, is waiting to show me her home, the gallery and my wing of the old adobe. I will be living in this fabulous estate for the next two months as the Artist-In-Residence.

The Car Wash BBQ Send Off Party

The Car Wash BBQ Send Off Party

January 22,2012 The fine San Francisco peeps showed up for a BBQ  but we scraped the idea for the car wash in the chilly rain. Foxy Brown, the old Chevy van got a Thule roof box installed between her gold racks. Special thanks to Bob Lake, who lent me one of his many Thules. In the roof box, we managed to house all my Birds On a Wire prints and small paintings with room to spare.The boys worked under the shelter of the 20th street overpass to work out of the rain.

Streams of friends came all day to bid farewell and toss ribs on the BBQ. My Kiwi neighbor, Sam kept his foul weather gear on while cheerfully standing at the grill that fed us all. Simultaneously the 49ers and the NY Giants were battling it out across the hall on Cal's brand new, "just- for-the-game, big HD screen...sweeeet and standing room only.  Leah had a spread of fabulous foods that Diesel's nose constantly battled for.   Soon Courtney and Rob had to open their loft as rumor of Roy's homemade beer was on tap and flowing. The next loft to open was Hallie and Gary's.   We all got a rare visit to the home of St. Frankenstine aka the  Pianobike.  What was suppose to be an outdoor BBQ Carwash turned into a fantastic hall party with my neighbors welcoming my friends into multiple lofts.  If I was caught tearing up, I blamed it on the 49ers but this day was a fantastic send off. I am blessed to have such a place and people to return to after my journey through America.