1,000 Miles and Lessons Learned

This week, Betsy crossed a huge milestone: 1,000 miles since starting this journey on March 9th. She’s managed to keep up her 30-miles-a-day pace, even through some tough conditions. Leaving Flagstaff, we got pummeled with high winds heading into Holbrook, NM—and then cold weather and snow as we entered Gallup. Snow... something we definitely weren’t expecting. Betsy pushed through it all, even using the wind at her back to fly down some of the hills. But unfortunately, that extra effort led to some sharp pain in her right shin, which meant an early rest day and more walking than running in the days that followed.

Thankfully, after checking in with her coach, Kirk, and her physical therapist, Brian, she got some great recovery advice. The pain is still there, but it's slowly improving. If there was a lesson in this stretch, it might be: stay consistent, and don’t push too hard—especially when Mother Nature’s already doing the pushing.

Meanwhile, in Rookie RV Land...

I learned my own lesson this week. If you pull into an RV park and nobody has their water hooked up, there’s probably a reason. First night in Gallup? Our fresh water hose froze. Not a huge deal, but definitely avoidable. Pretty sure anyone watching would’ve pegged me for a rookie. And if they missed the water hose? The loud blast of the airhorn—accidentally triggered while adjusting the shade—definitely sealed the deal.

Route 66, Wigwams, and Hollywood Nostalgia

Holbrook, AZ and Gallup, NM reminded us of Williams, AZ—towns that once thrived on Route 66 tourism but now show signs of wear: shuttered storefronts, faded signs, and a kind of lonely beauty. In Holbrook, we passed by the quirky Wigwam Motel. In Gallup, we stopped at the historic El Rancho Hotel, where the sign promises “Charm of Yesterday, Convenience of Tomorrow.”  The lobby didn’t disappoint—walls lined with photos of Hollywood legends who once stayed there. One fun fact: the hotel’s bricks were all intentionally laid crooked, by design. The masons apparently weren’t thrilled.

Williams was notable for having taught their cows both how to read and close gates, or so the sign suggests...

Choco Outlier: Our First Boondocking Adventure

After Gallup, we had our first true boondocking experience at Choco Outlier, a 60-acre plot on Navajo Nation land. The owner, Steve, has set it up to host a few RVs in a dispersed, off-grid style. It was our first time relying completely on what we brought with us—our own water, battery, solar, and generator.

Far from roughing it, but it definitely felt more isolated than your standard RV park—and that isolation came with stunning views. We even had a questionable supernatural visit revealed to us through the Scattergories dice during a game one night. (We stayed a second night... but left the dice alone.)

A Quick Stop in Cuba

In Cuba, NM, we landed at Theresa’s RV Park and Beauty Shop, where we parked in a gravel/mud patch beside some haphazardly placed neighbors guarded by chained-up pit bulls who would welcome us with viscous barking every step on the grounds. We were supposed to stay three nights but made a quick decision to move on after one. A longer drive to Betsy’s start/stop point felt like a fair trade for a more peaceful night.

Ghost Ranch: Mystery, Murder, and Georgia O’Keeffe

Our next stop—Ghost Ranch, near Abiquiu Lake—was a stunner.

Towering rock walls, open skies, and that familiar Sedona-like feel. The ranch sits on 21,000 acres and has a colorful (and dark) past. According to local lore (shared via camp host, brochures, and a horseback riding guide that Genavive and Vivien talked to):

In the 1880s, the Archuleta brothers—cattle rustlers—hid out at Ghost Ranch. When cowboys and cattle started disappearing, the truth came out: one brother murdered the other over gold, and the townspeople hanged him after his sister-in-law revealed everything. Later, they found 30 bodies buried on the ranch. The Archuletas may have been America’s first serial killers.

The ranch eventually changed hands, sometimes in poker games, and was later bought by Arthur Pack of Nature Magazine. It also became a sanctuary for Georgia O’Keeffe, who painted the landscape over and over again—especially the mesa called Cerro Pedernal, where her ashes were scattered after her death.

From wind and snow to haunted dice and pit bulls, this week brought its share of challenges—and its share of wonder. Betsy continues to inspire with her resilience, and I’m learning the ropes one frozen hose at a time.

Until next time...