Vegas, Ghost Towns, and a Birthday Breakdown at Yosemite

Last time we checked in, we were winging it to Vegas in a full-blown, “where are we going, what are we doing” panic. Spoiler: Vegas did not disappoint. We hiked Red Rock with the pups, where they showed off their climbing skills like they’d been training for American Ninja Warrior: Canine Edition. Laser even discovered a tiny waterhole, chugged some mountain juice, and immediately lost his mind in a full-on zoomie explosion. Free entertainment, courtesy of our dog.

After that desert circus, we aimed the rig toward Yosemite Lakes. Because obviously, the best way to celebrate your sanity is to drive a 45-foot RV through the Sierra Nevadas. First stop was Goldfield, NV, which is basically a living ghost town with a playground that could double as a medieval torture chamber. Krystal rode a merry-go-round older than most of our marriage, and then we admired the 90s-style all-metal slide designed to fry children into crispy nuggets.

While wandering back, we ran into a man who looked suspiciously like John Daly after a few rounds of golf and about 20 years of living the dream. Turns out, he’s been full-time RV’ing for almost two decades, and with a chuckle, he told us Tioga Pass was basically RV suicide. Thanks to his wisdom, we avoided playing “let’s see if the RV fits on a mountain ledge” and instead took his detour. It cost us five extra hours, half a tank of diesel, and most of our patience, but at least we lived.

Fast-forward to 7 p.m., where every truck stop was full, one Harvest Host driveway tried to eat us alive, and apparently you now have to reserve truck stop parking. Seriously. After three more hours of circling purgatory, we gave up and parked at a rest stop that radiated “not today, Satan.” We didn’t even put the slides out, just all crammed into the truck to sleep. Romantic, right?

The next morning, Krystal turned 40. Surprise! Nothing says milestone birthday like neck cramps from a truck seat. Thankfully, Yosemite Lakes let us check in early so we could pretend to be civilized humans again. But plot twist: apparently, this corner of California exists in the digital Stone Age. No cell service, no Wi-Fi. AT&T and T-Mobile were basically decorative. Imagine being told for years you’re on “permanent vacation” and then realizing you still need to pay bills and answer work emails. Cute.

After three days of internet limbo, we broke down, drove an hour and a half through the forest, bought Starlink (cheers, Elon), and finally rejoined the modern world. With work caught up, we could finally enjoy Yosemite. Vernal Falls hike? Gorgeous. The valley? Breathtaking. Planning a bike ride? Yes, please.

From here, it’s Sacramento for some coaching time (Krystal refuses to go cold turkey on gymnastics), then Palm Springs for golf, and eventually back to Texas where, plot twist again, we’re about to become grandparents. Guess that’s the reward for surviving busted Wi-Fi, haunted playgrounds, and truck stop camping.

Here’s to more mimosas, late-night cocktails, and hopefully fewer rest-stop birthdays as we crawl across the country.