The Law of Attraction is simple: like attracts like. I’ve found the theory to hold true when it comes to the kinds of people we meet in life.

In the early 90s, Jim and I were riding our motorcycles in the Bay Area when we met Nancy, an 80 year-old woman who was riding a Gold Wing.

I was dumbfounded that a woman her age was on a bike, but then she told me she used to be a World War II Ferry Pilot, which made motorcycling look like child’s play. As one of the few women bikers at the time, I felt an instant kinship with her.

To this day, her courageous spirit still influences my life, even on our trip across Texas.

Flying Across Texas Into WASP History

In World War II, while the men-folk were off fighting the war, a small group of gutsy women were recruited by the US Air Force to fly military planes from factories to air bases. They also towed targets on the back of these planes while male fighter pilots practiced firing at them with live ammunition!

About 2,000 WASPS trained at the Sweetwater, Texas airport and just over 1,000 women graduated as the first non-combat US military pilots, known as “WASPS” (Women Airforce Service Pilots). As non-combat pilots, these women freed up male pilots from “drudge work” so they could fight on the frontlines.

Nancy was one of these courageous gals. Even after the program was disbanded at the end of the war, she continued flying until one day when she decided to fly a small plane underneath the Golden Gate Bridge!  That’s when she was banned forever from flying. So instead she hopped on a bike and continued riding for decades.

A recent story about the WASPs on NPR reminded me of her. That’s when I also learned that the official WASP museum is located in Sweetwater, Texas, which happened to be on this year’s “Eating Across Texas” route. Jim and I were headed there to do another round of home cookin’ at Allen’s Fried Chicken, and once I heard the NPR story, I put the museum on our itinerary.

The WASP Museum: Frozen in Time

The WASP museum is housed in the original 1920s-era aircraft hanger where the WASPs trained.

Inside, a collection of memorabilia, video and props tells the story of these heroic women who came from all walks of life to train as pilots, for a meagre $150 a month salary.

The program was controversial and had its detractors but these women endured to become the first military pilots in the country.

But because the Air Force hired them as Civil Service employees, the WASPs never received military status or benefits because the war ended before a congressional act could be enacted to give them military recognition.

The WASPs were nearly forgotten in history until the 1970s, when the Navy announced that women would be allowed to fly combat planes. As more military women aspired to and became fighter pilots, the story of their WWII  predecessors was resurrected.

The WASPs Get their Props

Years went by until these courageous women were finally recognized by our government. Just a few months ago the WASPs received the Congressional Gold Medal in Washington.

WASP Pilot Betty Wahl Strohfus, pictured getting her medal, is one of just 300 surviving WASPs.

I don’t know what happened to Nancy, but my memory of our run-in has always stayed dear to my heart. I can’t help but think that much of my good fortune in life comes from that chance encounter I had with such a courageous soul who wasn’t afraid of taking chances. She influenced me more than she’ll ever know.

Seeing the actual spot in Sweetwater where she and so many brave women earned their pilots wings will always serve to inspire myself (and many, many other women) toward more adventure in our lifetimes.

They came. They got to know each other. They made cocktails.

I’m speaking of the Nü Rvers of course, at their recent get-together in Gonzales, Texas for Days of the Nü II. One highlight from this year’s gathering was the first Bartender Wars.

Ben and Karen took first place with their Blazing Bloody Mary, and we brought home the Best Presentation award thanks to our Nü Hawaiian, complete with theme music and little umbrellas. (Thanks to Sam and Tracy!)

But as we promised the fine folks from Republic Tequila – who we met at the first Luckenbach Hat Festival, which they sponsored – we brought along a bottle of their new Reposado for the Nü Crew to try out.

Enjoy this video of us preparing a batch of Republic Texas Tea and getting feedback from a few true tequila afficionados …

After making this batch of Republic Texas Tea, and passing around a few straight shots, the votes were unanimous – well, almost. Among actual tequila drinkers the consensus was; Republic Tequila rocks! It is aromatic and mellow, ultra-smooth and easy drinking – fine to sip, and most excellent mixed.

Here’s the topper, Republic Tequila is made with 100% certified organic blue agave at La Quemada, one of Mexico’s only organic distilleries. Even better, Republic uses recycled Jack Daniels charred American Oak barrels for aging their tequilas – 8 months for the Reposado and 20 months for the Añejo. And best yet, the people behind the brand are good-hearted, fun-loving folks who share a common goal; to create and market the world’s perfect tequila.

They might have done just that. Everyone has that one liquor they just can’t drink anymore. And while I make a mean margarita, I haven’t been able to sip straight tequila for years due to circumstances I care to not divulge, or can’t remember. But once I tasted the Republic Reposado, my aversion might just be cured.

Republic Tequila – “Born in Mexico, Raised in Texas” – was launched last August and is already in four states. Look for Republic throughout Texas at Spec’s Fine Spirits. I’m just glad it’s available in Colorado now! By the time of this writing you should also be able to buy it in Oklahoma, New Mexico and Arizona.

If your favorite liquor store doesn’t carry Republic Tequila, tell them they should! If they do, you can’t miss it on the shelf. It’s the one in the Texas shaped bottle. But this is much more than just a gimmick. It symbolizes the spirit of this spirit, its big hand-crafted taste, and the freedom you’ll feel after sipping some … responsibly of course.

Some stores may also have Republic in the “tall” bottle. But what fun is that considering this tale Jack told about how the Republic bottle came to be… “We started drinking in Amarillo,” he said pointing to the neck of the bottle. “By lunch we had reached Abilene,” he adds and points to middle of bottle. “It was so good, we kept on drinking until we reached South Padre Island!” Or something like that, but anyone who knows their Texas geography understands that means it’s time for a new bottle.

Let’s coin a new phrase, in the original meaning of the term …

I hereby declare Snabbers as Seasonal Snowbird Slabbers – those of us who enjoy the culture of Slab City on a seasonal basis.

As in … “Slab City residents are happy the Snabbers have left.”

Unlike the stereotypical Snowbirds who tend to gate themselves up in their RV caravan roundups, never venturing downtown, Snabbers prefer to immerse themselves in the Slab City experience.

You might even find Snabbers at the hot spring or bathing in a culvert. Though we only partook in the former this year.

And unlike self-proclaimed Slabbers, we Snabbers retain a certain self respect rare among certain full time residents of the Slabs.

Overheard one day in reference to an old travel trailer in dire need of repair …

“I’m a Slabber! It’s too nice for me.”

Snabbers walk a fine line. While we enjoy meeting the eclectic mix of people that one might find at The Range on a Saturday night, and don’t mind putting up with a little acrid smoke while gathered around a trash can fire to enjoy some funky music act, we do prefer a tasty cocktail over malt liquor, and hot grilled eggplant over cold Spam out of a can. We also like regular showers in the privacy of our own RV and a clean shirt every few days.

Snabbing isn’t for everyone. But at least one night on the Slabs should be required of any true full-timer. Make it a Saturday next season, and we’ll meet you at The Range.

Dare I digress and ask who coined the phrase, “to coin a phrase”? See that first link if you’re really interested. Or, if someone asks this piece of useless trivia at a dinner party, just tell them it predates printing and moveable type if that’s what they suggest. Way back in the 14 century, money was apparently coined by wedge-shaped dies called “coins” used to stamp the metal blanks which came to be called coins.

Considering money is something you will find very little of at the Slabs, I find this relevant. As is this coining quote typical of its early use in the mid 2oth century …

“It takes all sorts to make a world, to coin a phrase.”
— From Francis Brett Young’s novel Mr. Lucton’s Freedom, 1940

Indeed it does. Especially at Slab City.

Jim and I have soft spots in our hearts for rescued animals. At one time we thought that our next business endeavor would be starting up a home for old dogs. We said we would call it “Jerry’s Kids.”

But in November 2007, we got a good dose of reality during our volunteer stint at Safe Harbor Animal Rescue in Maysville, North Carolina. Working there opened our eyes to the grueling work involved in running an animal sanctuary, and we quickly came to the conclusion that we just aren’t cut from the same cloth as those who give up their lives for animal rescue advocacy.

Last fall while we were still in Fort Collins, we stopped at Petco and met up with Karen Straight, executive director of Kindness Ranch, a rescue home for former lab research animals. I learned about them through my friend Lilla, who volunteered at their ranch in Hartville, Wyoming last year.

Kindness Ranch takes in animals who are released from research labs where they were subjected to product testing. Karen finds loving homes for those who are adoptable and ready for their first real homes. And for animals who are too challenging to adopt out because of issues resulting from their cruel imprisonment, Kindness Ranch is a sanctuary, and their last chance for happiness.

Karen was at Petco with a few dogs who are ready for homes, including Jack, pictured above.

Please help Kindness Ranch any way you can. This is a great organization with a heart of gold, and they need all of the assistance they can get for the animals.

We proved to ourselves that RVing hasn’t turned us into outdoorsy wussies.

Our California friends Kim and Ari Shapiro, and their son Caz, paid us a visit recently, during their six week road trip sabbatical. Jim and Ari have been friends since college, and the five of us always had lots of great times backpacking and car camping.

We haven’t tent camped for almost a year, so when Kim and Ari wanted to check out the nearby Rahwah Wilderness, we went along for a few days, and took the backpacking gear instead of the rig.

We hauled our gear a whole 20 feet, from the truck to the tent pad at a great campsite along a river. The river lulled us to sleep both nights, making it a little easier to snooze on the rock hard ground.

Getting back to our roots and sleeping in our tiny tent wasn’t too bad, and we’ll definitely do it again sometime. But I’ve gotta say, RVing with refrigeration and a mattress is a lot kinder to your body.

Aside from our episode with the drunkards, the Missile Site park felt like the safest place to be during our stay in Greeley. The same cannot be said for the sole tornado fatality from the one that touched down there last year. We were parked in the same spot as that poor soul.

But while we could see the wild storms coming and going all around Weld County, and we had our NOAA weather radio tuned in and handy, it was Pete who gave us the most confidence come time for the daily tornado warning. With his house blown away by the twister last year, Mr. Ambrose wasn’t about to let anyone else be taken by another storm on his watch.

We knew one warning was particularly dangerous when we saw Pete rounding up campers. And we can’t thank him enough for letting us all drive into the old decommissioned Atlas-E Missile Silo he knows so well.

What better place to sit out a tornado warning?

See for yourself in this personal tour Park Manager Pete Ambrose gave us of the Weld County Atlas-E Missile Site:

So, about those Days of the Nü …

That NüRVers Rally at the Lazy L&L was an opportunity to attend the first real rally of sorts for full-timing hipsters. And by real, I mean rally-goes actually registered. But if you didn’t go because of the registration fee, you missed out. Our gracious hosts used those fees well.

We all had sweet sites with full hookups, and everyone received goody bags with cool schwag including the first official NüRVers T-Shirt. Ladies received some of Cat’s new Starspun all natural mineral makeup, and of course the gents got sample kits of Dri-Wash waterless RV cleaner. But did I mention the open bar?

Yes, throughout the Days of the Nü we were priveliged to have at our disposal a full bar of only the best bottles. Many of which I’m pretty certain got emptied, all of which I’m sure cost more than those reg fees would cover on top of the campground cost and commemoritive apparel.

Which reminds me of some important words of advice for anyone who plans to hook up with the Nü Crew down the road: Pace yourself. The morning after René and I arrived at the Lazy L&L, we weren’t feeling so hot. And that’s putting it politely. It might have been the gin, or maybe the wine, quite possibly the rum; but most likely all of the above. With a few days to go, we intended to take it easy. But then came Luau night, and I am not one to pass up free mai tais. Especially excellent ones in a big bowl! Besides, it gave us a chance to use our coconut cups again.

It was hard to top each previous night when it came to the food and fanfare for this fun crowd. Somehow we managed to though. Our pot luck meals were tasty smorgasborgs, with plenty of variety. From Damian’s grilled Spam for The Luau to Brian’s Thai noodles for Fiesta Night – give ‘em a break, he’s Canadian eh – there was plenty for all tastes and diet preferences.

For those who helped plan this party by editing the online worksheets, thank you for your time but it was all for naught. “Rally” organizers decided to eschew the itinerary, which worked out for the best. Six cool RV couples got to know each other, in person if you can believe that. And a fun time was had by all. We skipped the intended seminar schedule, togetherness outing and door prize games to focus on having a good time. That, and getting pretty trashed.

But René did host her stitch and bitch crochet lesson, and I hear Angie is keeping it up. Us guys got a lesson on keeping rigs clean, talked shop, and geeked out on my hitch. You see, the ol’ Superglide had a hard time unhitching when we pulled in. Hence the mass quantities of Bombay Saphire upon our arrival. But we need not go there. Nor do we need ask about the NuRVers thong.

We should, however, ask if “Rally” is really appropriate nomenclature for this portable partay. What would you call it? I for one, like that whole Days of the Nü idea.

To be continued …