Candyce and I traveled up to the high altitude town of Happy Jack, Arizona, to spend Memorial Day weekend with her grandparents. It was a bizarre change in temperature from Phoenix to Happy Jack. We left when it was 95 degrees in Phoenix. Two-and-a-half hours later, we were at over 6500 ft where it got down into the 30s at night.
I know how bored I get when people talk about the weather, so I’ll just get to the point…
RVs Have No Sex Appeal
Having a cool house and a cool car is awesome (I have both), but putting a house and a car together just isn’t cool. Nothing can save an RV from it’s stigma of middle-American leisure, not even a sticker that reads “If the RV’s a rockin, don’t come knockin.”
But once you buy into the scene, your RV is absolutely cool. I walked around the private RV resort where we stayed, and every RV owner/driver was as confident as a baller who just stepped out of his Chrysler 300 with 24” rims. You could play “Party Like a Rokkstar” and somehow, it would match the collective mood. Sure, it’s more innocent, the partying is about the BBQ with the family by the mosquito zapper, but regardless, these people are having fun even if you don’t like it.
It’s unfair that I walked amongst the RV owners as a cultural chauvenist. Nobody likes an outsider pretending to be your friend just so they can run back to their friends and tell horror stories about your scene. So by noon on the second day, I decided to get over myself and join the fun. And I’m glad I did.
And now, the adventures…
Big Fish
Howard drove me, Candyce, Johnny, and Ali in his Jeep 17 miles into the woods so we could fish at Long Lake. Although my family owned a baitshop as a kid, I’ve only been fishing a half-dozen times. I used to pull those worms out of the ground during the summer to make money. I knew their fate, but I didn’t mind because I could buy Matchbox cars with my earnings.
I stood by the lakeside and saw the death of a worms not unlike those I plucked from the earth. I cringed as I stabbed, wrapped, and stabbed that poor worm until it was a dripping knot of death. Sorry dude, but we gotta catch some fish.
Candyce is a wuss, so she manipulated me to mutilate her worms. She’s crafty: “Does this worm look secure enough to you? Do you think I should add another worm?” Of course it wasn’t secure, you just draped the worm over the hook like you would a bath towel over the shower curtain rod. And yes you need to add another worm because all that’s left of the previous worm looked like a bead. I dug out a worm, lifted it to her hook, she turned her head. More stabbing.
After 6 hours of nothing, we decided to admit defeat and drive back to civilization. I was carrying the cooler and two chairs towards the Jeep when Candyce started screaming about catching a fish. Howard ran back down the hill and helped her pull out a 14 inch rainbow trout. We all celebrated and asked how she did it. We dutifully followed instructions and cast our hooks back into the water.
Two hours later, we packed up and went home. Eight hours, four fishing poles, one fish.

The dirty fish flops, scaring Candyce (looking like a dinosaur), scaring me (looking like a child), and making manly Johnny look manly.
That night we watched Butch Cassidy and the Sun Dance Kid and ate lemon pepper trout. This was a funny scene because I was actually sitting in a camp chair inside the RV. We were in the high mountains of Arizona watching a movie about the Wild West. 
Once the trout was gone and the movie was finished, Candyce and I drove back to our site, turned off the engine and fell asleep. We didn’t even get out of the car.
Sleeping in the Element
Candyce and I slept in a campground not far from their RV in my Honda Element. Honda designed the Element so you could lay down all four of the seats to become one continuous soft bed from the dashboard back to the tailgate. (It’s actually kind of cool—the sun roof on the Element is in the back so you can recline and look up at the stars.)
Once we laid some blankets in some of the low parts of the flattened seats, the bed was actually pretty comfortable. It was so cold outside that we had two layers of sleeping bags on top of us.
As we were about to fall asleep a bright spotlight lit up the inside of the Element and freaked us out. I imagined some back-woods lumberjack had found us and was ready to steal away my hot wife. It ends up it was just the headlights of a car driving through the campground. I never experienced this before because I’d always slept in tents without glass windows. We laughed it off. But the thought of getting kidnapped in the middle of the night was enough to make me click the doors shut and engage the car alarm. Chirp chirp.
The alarm kept crazy lumberjacks out of the Element, but it also kept us in. Candyce tried to get out in the middle of the night and the car honked and screamed and blinked. It was the most frightening alarm clock I’d ever waken up to. I scrambled to find the clicker in the layers of blankets and sleeping bags. Once the panic was over, we laughed and fell back asleep.
When morning came, I slid forward and dropped my feet onto the brake pedal and the clutch. I popped my seat back upright and cranked the car. I drove over to G-parent’s RV and parked before Candyce had even waken up in the back. Her first seconds of the day were her grandparents standing on the steps to the RV with big smiles and good morning waves.
It was a bizarre but fun way to spend a night.

The two of us eating breakfast in the RV the next morning.
Boys Like Toys with Wheels
We sat in a cozy local restaurant to have lunch at the only intersection in Happy Jack, AZ. In the winter, this restaurant had to be a warm haven from the mountains of snow outside. In the corner was a wood stove. The walls were covered with fake wood-panel walls (probably back in the early 1980s). The simple menu with way too many “things” placed in “quotes.” As gaudy is it was, I loved every detail of the place. It reminded me of being back home in the mountains of Georgia.
While we waited for our food, I looked out the window at the 100s of dudes driving their toys to the gas station to fill up before they ventured out to set up camp. I’ve never seen more four-door trucks in my life. I’m not kidding you, at one point there were 8 quad-cab trucks hauling a boat or a fifth wheel, all lined up waiting to take a left into the gas station. The trailers were loaded with every wheeled-vehicle imaginable: off road golf carts, ATVs, off-road scooters, bicycles, dirt bikes, and even rugged baby strollers.
One guy really got me. He drove a dually quad-cab truck that pulled a fifth wheel camper. Behind that camper was a second trailer that carried an off-road golf cart. That’s 16 wheels driven by one man. It was a snapshot of man’s fascination with it’s own invention: the magnificent wheel. And every wheeled-vehicle was yet another possibility to explore the earth beneath them.








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