Scenic Highways: Canyons, Crests, Rivers, and Rockies

Arrival at Eagle River, CO

Our trek from the St. George, Utah area to Colorado was an adventure in itself. We had been enjoying our improvisational route through the month of October and suddenly ran out of time to get to Littleton, Colorado, where Brent's cousin hosts a Halloween party every year. We were determined to make it there by the 28th, but leaving central Utah and heading over the Rockies in Colorado was a route that would take four days of solid travel. We passed some incredible stuff on the way but could only afford to stay a single night wherever we wound up after a day of travel. I regret that we didn't budget our time better, but the views were amazing.

 

When I last wrote, we 'd been in St. George, Utah for five days. We enjoyed ourselves so much there that we lost track of time and when it came time to move on, we HAD to get moving to make it to the Halloween party a whole state away. We left St. George on Monday, October 24 and had a reservation at Bear Creek Campground in Lakewood, Colorado for Friday, October 28-- the day before the party. We had over 600 miles to cover in three days of driving. We would drive as far as we could each day and stay wherever we found ourselves for one night each along the way.

 

We split town in St. George around noon on the 24th. We try, we really do, to leave before check-out, especially with so much ground to cover, but it is so, so hard for some reason! We figured we would just drive as far as we could and knew that there were at least dozens of free BLM campsites we could park in for the evening wherever along the route we wound up at nightfall. When we left town, it started raining. It was so exciting-- lightning and thunder!-- and a break from the 85 degree heat we'd been having in St. George. We stopped at Home Depot and Camping World on the way out of town, as well, thinking we'd finally bite the bullet on buying the Honda generator Brent has had his eye on. With weather turning darker and colder, our solar panels wouldn't keep our batteries charged as well and we figured the investment would quickly pay itself off after a few more boon-docking excursions. We chickened out of the investment and left town sans generator and even later into the day.

 

First sight of snow and I'm in flip flops.

Change of plans. Let's see something before we leave Utah. We had passed on seeing Zion in favor of lounging around the RV park and its pool so we decided we'd see Bryce Canyon on the way out. We'd stay in the campground in Bryce National Park. We traveled Highway 20 out of the St. George area and our scenery quickly changed. From warm, red rock desert to massive green colored rocks rising out of forest, we suddenly couldn't tell rock from trees. It was still raining and we watched the temperature drop as we climbed higher into the deep, gray clouds. Patches of snow appeared on the side of the road and in the colder, shaded areas between adjacent trees. It was 45 degrees outside. I glanced down at my flip flops and shorts, perfect attire for a rainy St. George morning, and could do nothing more than giggle. Oh jeez.

 

We entered the Dixie National Forest and the Bryce Canyon area-- hooray! There were no more sightings of snow patches, but it was still chilly. The scenery quickly changed once we turned a corner. From behind the massive black and green rock mountains appeared red hoodoos-- a real life Thunder Mountain scene-scape right beside the road. We practically screeched to a stop to pull over and take pictures. I swear the Wildest Ride in the Wilderness would be rocketing toward us from around a towering stack of red rock any moment! 

A Real Life Thunder Mountain!

 


Aim for the middle!

When we continued our way along the highway, we slowed down to view a warning: "13'6" Tunnel Ahead". Um... how tall is our rig again? We pulled over and Brent climbed up top with a tape measure. I stood at the ground and pulled the metal L-bracket to touch the asphalt. With a tape measure (the only one handy) reaching only 12 feet, Brent had to do the old finger to the 12-foot point and then raise the tape measure up from there for the remaining height. His estimate: "Well, I'm getting maybe 13'2", and that's considering the tape measure is arched a little bit." Um, Ok... that's reassuring, right??

 

We steadied ourselves ahead and there it was--the tunnel. It was an arch in the red rock and we were to drive through it. It looked low. Oh my... We proceeded slowly and aimed ourselves for its highest point, which straddled the yellow dotted line between our lane and oncoming traffic. Our biggest concern was the AC unit, which creates our apex above the bedroom at the front end. We braced ourselves for screeching, crashing, banging... nothing. Gasp! We had made it! We darted back into our own lane just as two oncoming cars were turning the corner from the other direction. They honked their horns angrily and fists cursed at us from the windows. Do they have any idea what we'd been through?? Oh, to be a belligerent little Honda Civic with no fear of losing a chunk of rooftop to the landscape! Thinking we'd seen the worse, we breathed again and exchanged relieved giggles only to turn a corner and discover another low arch!

 

We made it through without losing so much as an antenna, I'm happy to report. It was getting dark, though, and we needed a place to park for the night. We passed through the gates of Bryce Canyon National Park well after the sun had set and found the campground we had seen on our campground apps: Sunset Campground, appropriately enough. Brent put on his long sleeve and hopped out to read the signs at the self-check board. The campground was closing for the season the next morning; campers were asked to vacate the premises by 8am. At the cost of $35/night with no hook-ups, having to vacate in a little more than 12 hours, and having had no sunlight with which to charge our solar panels enough to keep the heater running through the night, we decided... Eeeh, no. We backtracked in the oncoming darkness to a nearby RV park and paid an astronomical amount for our hookups for the evening but we did see a buck standing in the shrubs nearby by the light of our headlights and the rain stopped just in time for us to set up without getting soaked.

 

The next morning, we actually got out at a decent time and parked our RV in a nearby parking lot where the Bryce Canyon Shuttles sleep for the night. It was large and vacant and we got the approval of attendants, so we were good to drop the RV and head into the National Park.

 

We parked and made the small hike up to the ridge, where we discovered a landscape of another planet. Thousands of fortresses of rock poked straight up out of the ground in colors ranging from

Us at Bryce Canyon

powder white to rust orange. Like castles built for another people, hoodoos towered their way from the ground throughout the entire canyon. Otherworldly and spectacular, the sight was unexpected and awe inspiring. It makes one wonder why this happens in this one place only and so suddenly, when on the other side of the hills at the far side of the canyon, the landscape returns to meadow and forest with no sign that something so stupendous lives right next door. How amazing is our planet that it creates these marvels and pushes them right up out of the ground in isolated locations?

 



Kailyn's sneaking in a little lunch while we continue
to capture the moment.

We took a lot of pictures, and Kailyn was a trooper. She cried through a lot of our pictures because, though cozied up in her wrap carrier, there was a cool breeze brushing past and she was not entirely accustomed to the sensation. She wore a little crochet hat, but with this too being a new sensation, she was not happy. A few parties passed by and marveled at the little one, smiling that this was the youngest baby they had seen at Bryce Canyon and did she know how lucky she was to be sightseeing so early in life? I smiled back and rocked her, waiting for a moment to finagle the wrap enough to give her what she wanted: milk. This definitely made her happy, but now here I was trying to conceal bare breast while taking pictures and smiling and other visitors who wanted to ooh and aah at the little baby. C'est la vie! We have more than a few pictures at Bryce Canyon where I'm concealing a nursing baby!

With the morning moving into mid-day and a lot of ground to cover, we made our way back to the car for what would be a long day's journey to who-knows-where. With destination of Colorado in mind, there was still a lot of Utah to drive through and we were sad to miss it. Brent plotted a route for us-- Scenic Highway 12--which was the slower but more appealing route. It was the route that had gotten us to Bryce Canyon and we had only to continue its path to see more of Utah and less highway.

 

Highway 12 led us through Bryce Valley and Henrieville. Fall colors with huge rock face backdrops

 were simply stunning. Farmhouses and barns glided by outside our windows, field peppered with cows and horses. The rocks walls surrounding us were a spectrum of colors: white, gray, black, pink, peach, brown, sand. A rainbow of earth dropped at the base of a deep blue sky and fields of rolling green grass is a beauty of nature. We passed through fields backed by rock walls until we reached Escalante. We approached signs that promised of petrified forests and ancient cave dwellings an easy hike way, but the sun was dipping toward the horizon and we needed to set up camp.

Some of what we were passing from the highway

We found a small RV park in Escalante with no phone signal and terrible internet connection and parked for the night. Evelyn tromped around outside with her little shovel, digging an eight inch wide and two inch deep hole in the red earth. She lined it with gravel and told us our fire pit was ready. What a little helper! We dined on salad and mac and cheese and retired for the night with sights of an early morning and a day full of travel ahead.

 

We awoke to the sunrise setting the massive rock mountain that marks the end of the Grand Staircase aglow in a block of warm orange. A chilly dawn turned to a promise of another warm day as we cleaned up and folded in our slides. We got a fairly early start (for us) and were back out on Highway 12 before 10 am.

 

October 26 on Highway 12... this was one of my favorite drives yet. We climbed and dipped, pushing our poor truck to the limit. It roared its way along and pulled our heavy home behind it along curves

 and hills better suited to a small and sensible sedan. We crawled through the bottoms of deep canyons. Soft rock walls around us, painted in red and green, curved over and around creeks and rivers. We turned a canyon wall to discover a coffee shop, of all things. When we read the sign, "Kiva Koffee House", I thought it was the name of a sight to see from a view point. It was, however, and actual coffee shop off the side of this winding highway in the middle of seemingly nowhere (it always makes me wonder where people live who operate these kinds of places!), with simply breathtaking views. The canyon dipped deeper into a tree filled gorge beyond and a river could be heard though not seen traveling there in its path. The canyon continued on, completely covered in Fall-colored trees, its walls rising up in an orange and rust colored backdrop. Brent had navigated the truck and trailer up the little road leading to the Koffee House only to discover there was nowhere to turn around, so we carefully backed our way out on to the highway again in a fortunate absence of other vehicles. I snapped some pictures of our massive trailer dwarfed by the rock walls around it before jogging back to my door to hop back inside.

 

 

 

The Calf Creek area was beautiful. We drove next to a river, momentarily driving the bottom of the gorge. We could look up to see hundreds of feet of red, orange, and peach rock face billowing straight up to the flatland above, having the appearance of liquid that had hardened in its place and left soft, pillowy looking rock in its place. Lush green brush and trees mingled with red, orange, and yellow leaved trees. We passed RV parks nestled in the canyon right next to the river, but signs warned that rigs over 25 feet were not recommended.

 

We climbed and climbed and twisted and turned, tiptoeing along highway edges from which I could peer straight down hundreds of feet down canyon walls only feet away from the asphalt's edge. We reached a high point of 8500 feet and found ourselves overlooking endless spans of canyon-scarred rock-- deep and impressive ancient merging of rivers that created massive grooves in the earth in Y formations. We were looking down and out over an expanse of land that rivaled the Grand Canyon in its spectacle but possessed no more label on the map than "National Forest". We continued on and only miles away we would find ourselves in completely different landscape. Once again, we were surrounded by farmland and sprawling pasture. Signs warning us to watch for open range cattle appeared on the roadsides and endless pine trees laid out before and around us.

 

Three ancient rivers can be seen connecting here!
Look closely at the meeting of each gorge.

 

We continued on into higher ground, where rolling hills appeared soft to the touch with thousands and thousands of bare, white birch trees on both sides of the bending highway.  The hillsides were

Rolling hills of wintry birch trees

frosted and cottony, and as we climbed we could look back and see the point where pine became birch. We reached a summit of 9600 feet. We must be crazy to be making this drive with our poor truck, lugging this gigantic trailer behind! We turned another bend over the ridge to find the scarlet dorsal fin of Capital Reef breeching the surface deep in the valley below. We stopped at a view point overlook and let the dogs out only to quickly put the little ones back in the truck to the screeching of hawks overhead!

Evelyn with Capital Reef rising out of the landscape
behind her

 




There is something so enriching about getting out of the car after traveling and talking with others. Everyone is on their own journey yet united in our paths crossing however briefly. A couple pulled up behind us in their motor home. We learned that they were from  Florida and had traveled much of what we had seen as well. Everyone on the road is happy and friendly. How could they not be? Everyone is at their best when they're traveling, aren't they? We took pictures of each other in front of the view and said our farewells, knowing that night was approaching and we would need to find somewhere to park again for the night.

 

We descended the highway from the summit, closing our drive through the valleys and canyons with final encounter with cows, this time meeting free range cows face to face. We slowed as we turned close corners in canyons, sharing the tight road space with cattle who scaled small walls to escape our path. They watched us with wide eyes under long eyelashes, and we smiled back from only feet away as we rolled past.

 

The canyons of Utah were behind us, but the rocky mountains of Colorado were soon ahead.

 

We stayed our last night in Utah at Green River State Campground, where we were one of only about 6 campers and enjoyed the open space. We enjoyed a campfire that night and awoke to a



Evelyn making friends with Emma, her new pen-pal.

golden sunrise sparkling through the yellow leaves left in the trees around us. Evelyn and I walked the dogs to the river, trespassing onto the neighboring golf course to snap some pictures of the river with train bridge crossing over. When we got back to camp, Evelyn spotted some kids and spent the morning with today's "best friends", riding scooters and collecting leaves. I talked with the girls' mom and learned that all three of her kids attend online school in Utah! Brent talked to the girls' father and grandfather only to learn that they would be riding their ATVs from the campground that day onto trails where dinosaur bones can be spotted jutting from the rock! Evelyn's new friends' grandfather writes a riding feature for the local paper. Brent seriously considered staying for the day and renting a Razor to tag along with them, but we had ground to cover and a date for a party to meet, so we exchanged numbers and went on our way.

 

The flatter lands of Green River turns to rocky hill again and before long we found ourselves on Highway 70, the mountain highway with a sense of humor. I thought I'd seen towering rock face to this point, but nothing compared to the soaring gray rock walls of the Rockies. I had to push  my face to the window to see the tops of the gorge walls next to us. We followed the rushing river that had carved these walls and climbed and climbed. The truck growled its way up the steep ascent at a roaring 35 MPH. I chanted "I think I can, I think I can" and found myself grasping the seat in front of me with white knuckles. Poor truck!! We passed quaint mountain town we wished we had time to visit. Glenwood Springs looked especially inviting, built into the mountainside around the highway and sprawling into the valleys running perpendicular to it. It was clearly a village whose roots were planted in mining, and historical buildings had been repurposed for modern tourism, yet I spied a Target from our view on the highway and thought this might be the perfect blend of old character and new amenity to be enjoyed. We thought the same thing too  late and were soon too far past Glenwood Springs to turn around and stay for the night.

We traveled another 20 miles or so to Gypsum, where we found an off-highway RV park near the Eagle River to plant ourselves for the night. We took the RV park owner's advice and had dinner at the bowling alley in Eagle, Colorado, another mountain town whose roots were planted in mining. The lanes were downstairs, underneath the rest of the strip mall above. The lanes were split into a

Dinner at the bowling alley-- not too shabby!

"T": twelve lanes were laid out to the left of the stairway entrance and twelve lanes to the right. The restaurant was right between the two sets of lanes at the crossing of the "T". We had nachos, salad, and grilled cheese sandwiches and watched the locals bowl and laugh to upbeat music. Brent and Evelyn played air hockey. Soon Evelyn was ready to curl up in her bowling alley restaurant and we retired back at the trailer, looking forward to our last single night on the road.

 

In the morning, I walked the dogs to the nearby river and Gretchen trembled and shook in the 40

A brisk, lovely morning alongside the Eagle River

degree chill of the morning. I stretched and breathed in deep, filling my lungs with brisk mountain air. The sun was just sending its morning glow from beyond the other side of the mountain tops.

 

The drive on our final stretch of the I-70 was the most punishing on the truck but rewarding for us. The truck groaned and roared and we passed the famous ski resort town of Vail. We marveled at the city block expanses of hotels and resorts and gaped at the steep and plentiful trails of ski runs that still sat naked in wait of their first snow of the season. We reached the highest point our truck has carried us yet, 10,600 feet, The Vail Summit. The rest was downhill, for the most part, and we passed gold mining ruins and mines still in operation. Some old wooden mining building and rigs looked like they were crumbling from the hill

Some of the runs awaiting the season at Vail, CO

on which they were perched; others were newly refreshed and adorned with signs welcoming tourists to visit here, where the Gold Rush began-- Idaho Springs and Argo. I wish we could have, but our deadline had arrived and by that night we would be camped on the other side of these mountains.




Some of the views along Hwy 70 through the Rockies:

 

Highway 70 neared an end, but not before it jovially warned us: "Truckers, don't be fooled! Four more miles of steep grades and sharp curves!" and "Truckers, you are not down yet! 1 1/2 more miles of steep grade!" What a friendly highway... with more runaway truck ramps and warnings to check brakes than I've seen in my entire 40 years of California driving experience.

 

Before we knew it and before my white knuckles had time to fill with blood again, we were out of the mountains and flat land lay  out ahead of us. Just like that. We passed Thunder Valley race track and were there-- at Bear Creek Campground. We had made it through canyons and mountains, had passed quaint towns and mountain villages, and were here... in flat, dry prairie. I'm not going to lie, I was disappointed! It wasn't what I'd envisioned! My long sleeves and jeans were nagging at me in the sun-glazed 78 degree weather. Flies buzzed around us as we set up. What had happened to the charm of the mountains? The friendliness and splendor of Utah? It was all literally behind us, and here we were in what felt essentially like home and not in that good sense. We did, however, enjoy spending time with family while in the Littleton area. A Halloween party, pumpkin carving, and trick-or-treating with family was well worth the journey. Still, by the time we got to our destination, we had this sinking feeling that we knew we couldn't ask the truck to take us back to most of those places-- we had asked enough of our old pal in making it through those climbs even once. We had missed our chance.

 

This is the good and bad of traveling. We learned we need to plan better, whenever possible. We also learned that while it is uplifting to have deadlines and goals, the restriction they place on the spirit of whim is a very real thing. It felt, to us, the honeymoon period with our Great Adventure had somehow ended. The lifestyle would be setting in while we were in Colorado. While there are great things to see and new things to do, and while everything is new and exciting in its own way, we couldn't help but feel that we had somehow unknowingly passed the adventurous "beginning" and were now settling into "real life" on the road.

 

 

 

Farewell, honeymoon phase!
With pit stops like this one, though, I welcome our new reality!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The Post I Wasn't Going to Write

July, 2015: Evelyn and me at the Huntington Beach Rally

This is the post I was not going to write. After we set our plan in motion, I decided to approach it from an optimistic, adventurous angle and I made a conscious decision not to keep the perspective of an embittered, changed person who would never see her government the same. It is an amazing thing we're doing-- this traveling and seeing our country-- but I wouldn't say it had always been a dream of mine. It hadn't. Two years ago, I didn't have an inkling that I would be the kind of person who would sell everything and leave her family and friends to live in an RV. It isn't a dream I'd chased and finally decided to make a reality. It is a decision that is very much fueled by the impetus of losing my innocence in a political sense. I was propelled to activism and through that activism I discovered how little our government cares for its people. For the first time, I felt betrayed by those I always thought had the best intentions for the people. I awakened to a grand deception and to the truth about those in power. I was exposed to the Big Picture and to this effect, this awakening changed our lives forever.

 

I'm a registered Republican-- it's just always been that way since I was 18. I registered that way because my parents were registered that way and in high school I actually did have conservative appreciations and as one example I actually saw a value in Nixon's presidency; his foreign relations were notable. When Bush Sr., Ross Perot, and Bill Clinton ran for president, I followed closely but was only 16 and couldn't yet vote. I had wanted Perot to win. I remember hearing that Clinton had won over the radio in my car. I sat in my 57 Chevy, parked in front of Penguin Frozen Yogurt, and I cried. However, from every election thereafter, I voted Democrat. I was a registered Republican who voted Democrat. There was a point when I'd fume over Republican mailings and phone calls and I actually reasoned that I liked keeping my registration status as it was so that I could keep my eye on the enemy. I'm vegetarian, I believe in equal rights, I value helping the underdog. I've been called a Bleeding Heart. I voted for Obama both terms. I have urged students and their parents to support Jerry Brown's past initiatives.

 

But things changed. Not only was I awakened to a whole world I only thought I knew and had opinions about before, I would see true deception and spite from politicians I thought respected the public's ideals. Those very Democratic officials I had helped appoint and had supported publicly literally (yes, literally!) pointed and laughed at those seeking their help... including me. It's not that the Republican side is better. It's that the DNC woke me up through its spite for the people. It's really not as simple as Democrat vs. Republican. It's corruption on both parts. It's a system of government that is broken. It is a big game-- we are the pawns. I had to learn that game to be an effective activist. I only learned, though, that it's a dirty game where the government has bigger players than do the people, despite numbers.

 

Senator Dr. Pan announces SB277 to the Senate

I remember hearing that SB277 had been introduced as I checked a few updates sitting shotgun next to Brent on the 15 freeway between Fontana and Ontario. I didn't yet know who Senator Richard Pan was. I only knew that I valued the freedom to make medical decisions for myself and for my daughter and this bill had been introduced that would remove a parent's right to choose and it threatened the right to education should the people not choose what the government told them to choose. What a wicked bill! Surely this thing wouldn't go anywhere! It was un-American! I did the only bit of action I knew of at the time. I signed an online petition (ooh, look out, world!) and I inadvertently shared with Facebook Land that I'd done so. In no more than 10 minutes, two "friends" attacked me and grew belligerent on the issue. Vaccination is one of those things. As Americans like to label in "You're either with us or against us" black or white fashion, I was attacked as an "anti-vaxxer" for thinking all parents should like to know that their rights to medical choice were being threatened. Well, I changed my post status to private because I don't enjoy confrontation, and I filed away the fact that some of my friends are judgmental and amazingly disrespectful for that matter. I would later learn to be tougher and less amazed at how bold "friends" can be in the social media forum.

 

To this point, I had spent hundreds of hours reading on the vaccination topic over at least three years' time. I'd discussed the topic with doctors and read studies. I'd carefully analyzed both sides of the issue well enough that one could say I was obsessed. It was a quiet issue but one that seethed beneath the surface of society. Though this is by no means a post to argue for or against vaccination-- good lord, I'm not looking to sway anyone on this topic and I am not looking to be judged or to argue-- I do feel I need to articulate where I came from on this topic.

 

When I became pregnant, I didn't question vaccination. I did cut out high fructose corn syrup and ate everything all natural. I wanted a healthy baby to have the best shot (no pun intended) in the world as she could get coming in-- what parent doesn't? I had been vaccinated as a baby and child. If there had to be a label placed on me, I was "pro-vaccine". In fact, when the DTaP was added to the schedule as a requirement for school when I was still in the classroom, I judged those students who hadn't had the vaccine by the deadline and I held judgment on the parents who submitted a waiver in lieu of the vaccine for their children. How dare they think they're so special? This is where I had come from.

Later, as  a pregnant mommy-to-be, I started reading. I read both sides. It came time to interview pediatricians. Here's where my first glimpse of The System came in. I called ten pediatricians on our network's list. I got no farther than a phone call with six of them. SIX of them! Why? Because their receptionists informed me that if I even had questions about vaccines, the doctor would not take me on as a patient. What the hell??


I met with three others who would at least agree to be interviewed if I had questions about vaccines. One of them rolled his eyes at me when we got to that topic. The other two were more considerate, but all three dismissed my questions with the same rationale: "You know that doctor that published a study showing a link between vaccines and autism was a fraud." This is a well-repeated phrase when it comes to this topic; I was getting used to seeing it and hearing it, but I didn't know what that study was really about or even what that doctor's name was. More importantly, autism was not my concern. Why was this always the coverall statement that was supposed to assuage a parent's concerns? I asked all three of these pediatricians for details about this study. None of them knew what it was about, why it had been deemed fraudulent, or even when it had taken place.


The doctor I ultimately went with was respectful and honest. She had had all of the childhood illnesses herself. She knew how to treat them and wasn't overreactive or pushy about vaccines. She answered questions and agreed with parents' cause for concern. She even confided in me that she'd had a set of six month old twin girls die the day after getting their six month vaccines. The fact that their case was never studied and never would be was shocking, to say the least.

 

I talked to my own doctor about vaccines, as well. He has spent 35 years practicing Western medicine and had started a fellowship studying holistic and Eastern approaches to medicine. His perspective was an honest and enlightened one. He referred me to long term studies on vaccines in other countries-- ones the CDC refused to acknowledge. He commended me for holding off as I had and advised me off the record to wait as long as I was comfortable as the studies he directed me toward supported healthier children with delayed vaccination. The rabbit hole tripped by the controlled dominance of a government/medical field partnership began here. I read the studies; they existed and were rooted in strong evidence. Why would our government and the trusted CDC not acknowledge them?

 

Without getting farther into the issue-- because my disenchantment with Government would eventually shadow my disillusionment with vaccines-- I worked with my pediatrician and doctor to make the best decision for my baby. Life went on and my continued awakening on this topic and a system that intentionally and vehemently worked to hide truths from the public led to constant feelings of discomfort and plenty of sleepless nights.

 

Fast forward back to February of 2015. After being attacked by friends on Facebook, I started looking for others who were following this bill. I was fortunate enough to meet a dedicated and growing group of warrior parents-- many of whom had vaccine injured children. Our group slowly grew as more parents, doctors, and lawyers united to fight this bill. On this matter, I was also about to learn how a bill becomes a law. No, I didn't remember this from school-- do you? I embarked on a crash course on the topic from this point forward.

 

One thing I learned was that in order to be heard, I needed to make calls to my representatives. First of all, who are these representatives? I didn't even know! I had made it nearly 40 years and not had any clue who my local representatives were or what role they even played in this! I had to use an online search tool to discover who my reps were and how to get a hold of them. I didn't even know that they spent their weeks in Sacramento and only one day a week in their districts. I'm telling you, I was trusting and naive! I made quick, nervous calls and expressed my disapproval of this bill, SB277. Noted. But this wasn't enough. I started going to "Community Coffee" events to meet my reps but found I felt too intimidated to bring the topic up in a room of people. I instead introduced myself after the events and expressed my concerns one on one. I was invited to come into the office and talk person to person. I joined a small group who was planning to meet with our local assemblyman, Marc Steinorth. I was joined by other citizens-- healthcare workers, lawyers, teachers, parents-- who all held strong opposition to this bill. Steinorth was surprised by the turnout. He told us he had never had so many people come in at once nor received so many calls about a bill.

 

I went on to speak publicly to local organizations and to use my two minutes presenting to various boards, hoping to inform the public and gain momentum against this bill. I wrote countless letters and emails. I spent all my time drafting persuasive compositions, urging others to get involved and to be concerned. I met my senator's district director along with another warrior mom friend and we came armed with printouts and important highlighted information illuminating the injustice of this bill and the lack of logic upon which it was being justified. Again, we were told that no issue had brought about such public outcry and that our concerns would be heard and taken into account.

 

The public's concern with this bill grew and spread. Though I never made it to Sacramento, thousands of parents traveled there for each of the hearings on this bill. They were not allowed to voice their reasoning and were permitted only to voice a simple, "My name is ____ and I oppose this bill." I watched all of this live from my laptop and watched as our elected officials rolled their eyes at the lines and lines of citizens wanting to be heard and present in the process. The committee members have microphones on their desks. They could be heard murmuring "These people are crazy" and "So stupid!" and "Are we done yet?" as Americans wanting to be part of the process took their turns reciting their whole 10 words of permitted dialogue as their voice on the topic.



Concerned citizens lined up all the way down
the hallway at the Capitol to show their opposition
to SB277

 

I watched as parents with babies and children in the audience who had traveled hundreds of miles to be present were berated by these legislators for disrupting the hearings with small noises children make. Senator Anderson actually defended the parents and citizens who had made this pilgrimage to be heard at one point only to be reprimanded by the Chair. These power-happy legislators couldn't be bothered to show respect for the people whose lives would be affected by this bill.

 



Senator Anderson, the only
legislator to go to bat for the
people and to join them in
pleading their voices be heard.

It was assigned to three Senate committees and breezed through the first one. In case you don't know, the "checks and balances" system on bills requires it be sent through relevant committees to be heard by groups of elected officials. Whether it passes each committee through a majority vote of committee members determines whether it dies then and there or whether it will move on to the next committee. Should it pass all committees, it is voted on by the House in which it was introduced (in this bill's case, the Senate) and then moves on to committees in the next House, repeating the process until a second House vote is taken (in this case, the Assembly). Should it pass both House votes, the bill proceeds to the governor's desk.

 



In this bill's case, the first committee to hear the bill was the Senate Health Committee. Pre-selected individuals are allowed to testify in favor or against the bill and answer questions presented by committee members. Over an hour was spent listening to evidence in favor of or in opposition to the bill. In the broken system we have in which our "representatives" dictate and determine our fate, a vote is taken immediately after hearing both sides. Note this-- no input is received from the public other than whatever persuasion may have taken place in a legislator's office before a hearing takes place and no public input is allowed before a vote is cast-- and that is considering your legislator is even on a committee assigned to the bill. I tried calling the legislators that were on each of the committees to voice opposition. Guess what I was told: "You aren't a constituent so we aren't taking your input." Yep. Voiceless. So, as it were, a vote was taken immediately and with no public response or input on what was heard. The outcome: all Democrats on the committee voted "Yes"; all Republicans voted "No." Interesting. In a Democratic majority rule, that meant the bill moved on to the next committee.

 



It's time to update History books with this
modern-day McCarthy

Let's introduce Senator Richard Pan here. Senator Pan is a pediatrician. He is also the most highly endorsed legislator in California's two Houses by the pharmaceutical industry. On record for 2014-15, he received $100,000 in donations from the very companies that stood to rake in endless profits should their product be mandated. Conflict of interest any?? Not but two years prior, he introduced as a then Assemblyman the bill AB2109, which changed California's then vaccine waiver law in California to require a physician's signature. This signature was proposed in order to put to paper that parents had been "fully informed" by a physician and still declined. It was worded to fault the parent in this decision and implicated negligence and laziness on the parents' part. There was protest against that bill as well, but he then promised the legislature that he didn't intend to remove parent choice-- that would be un-American-- but wanted to be sure parents were "fully informed". The result of that bill was what I wrote of earlier: physicians being unwilling to take on patients with questions about vaccines. After all, there was now something with their signature on it out there with this new law in place. Doctors would rather avoid the situation than comply with it. Not even two years later, here stands this deceitful legislator, removing parent choice... you know, the thing he assured he didn't want to remove with his last bill. The game was being played, one step of the scaffolding at a time. It also so happens that he is Democrat.

 



Senator Pan and the bill's co-author, Ben Allen, could not
answer the questions directed at them without
consulting their pharmaceutical lobbyist advisors.

The bill went on to the Senate Education Committee. Access to education, a compulsory but guaranteed right in our country and state, is the issue. It could NOT possibly pass this committee. The questions coming from committee members were grueling on Senator Pan. He stammered and his eyes shifted as if someone had lifted him and shaken him and the rattling continued like marbles in a tin. Unsure of how to respond to concerns, he leaned over to be consulted by pharmaceutical lobbyists which answers to give (yes, seriously!!).

Children cannot be denied an education based on their medical status. Single parents and low income parents were targeted here-- they could not afford to home school if they were to uphold their medical freedoms. Children with disabilities lawfully had access to a free and public education. What about that? In a country where education is compulsory, we can't yank access based on belief, individual choice, or religion. Though this committee had Democrat majority rule and this was appearing to be a partisan bill, three Democrats on this committee hesitated. They had reservations and they put Pan on the spot.  One Democratic senator, Loni Hancock, actually told him his bill was "draconian".



It was time for a vote. But, the committee Chair, Senator Liu, Democrat, stopped there. She looked Pan in the face and said, "Your bill will not pass this committee if we vote today. I suggest you put some arguments together and amend your bill and present it to us later." What the hell?

 

Hancock cornered immediately
after the first Education Committee hearing
by the author and coauthor.

The bill was reassigned another hearing date with the Senate Education Committee for a week later. What happened in that week was egregious. Kevin De  Leon, President Pro Tempure, called for changes in appointment to the committee. Overnight, two of those who had shown reservations were replaced with other Democrats, one of whom was coauthor of the bill. Another was replaced by a Republican who had been out on medical leave and hadn't met with any constituents yet regarding this bill. Senator Hancock, who had called the bill "draconian", had been approached and cornered immediately after the hearing by Senator Pan, all live on camera. No additional hearing was held on the bill the next week--just a vote. The newcomers, save the Republican who had returned from leave, voted in favor of the bill, and Hancock,  who had shown serious reservations but had been cornered by Pan after the last hearing, gave a quiet "Aye" vote, apparently silenced into submission with no remaining concerns.

 

Without going into detail on the remaining committees, it moved swiftly through the process proving to gain Democrat votes nearly across the board, while minority Republicans voted "No". It was voted by Democrat majority as a Senate vote and moved on to committees in the Assembly.

 

Dr. Bob Sears speaking against SB277 in Sacramento on the Capitol steps:





I had formed a familiarity with my Assemblyman by this time. Being active means going outside of your comfort zone and creating allies, not enemies. When the bill moved on to the Assembly, I stepped it up a notch. I made more phone calls and made myself more visible at public invitations from his office. When the bill sailed through two committees in the Assembly and was heading to its final committee, the Health Committee, I got even more involved. Steinorth was on the Health Committee. I called Dr. Sears, a renowned pediatrician who had testified at the first Health Committee hearing and had written an objective and extensively researched book, The Vaccine Book. I asked if he would be willing to meet with my Assemblyman prior to the hearing, since Steinorth would be hearing the bill in its final committee. I had to act fast because the bill was moving fast. The morning of the Health Committee hearing, I took part in the conference call I had made happen. I sat in my trailer while camping at Doheny State Beach in a conference call with Dr. Sears, Assemblyman Steinorth, and his district director, Heather as Steinorth was literally in the car on his way to the hearing.

 

Because I was camping, I didn't get



to watch that hearing live (and wasn't sure I could stomach it). I did hear the outcome, however: it had passed. Again, it was a partisan vote. All Democrats (majority) had voted "Aye" and all Republicans had voted "No". I called Steinorth's office later that day to thank him for his "No" vote and for participating in the conference call that morning. He wasn't in, but his district director called him with my message and he called me back immediately from his personal cell phone. He explained how his colleagues were happy this was ending so that all these people (citizens) would stop hanging around the Capitol building. He explained how a young Democrat on the committee explained that she selectively vaccinated her child and didn't think this bill would affect her. She was corrected that it absolutely would; her child couldn't go to school without every single shot on schedule. He explained how shocked she was and how wide her eyes went... but she went quiet

after a recess and gave a quiet "Aye" vote by the end. He described how pharmaceutical lobbyists were cornering Democrat legislators in the hallways and that screaming matches had ensued. He said he'd never been happier he wasn't a Democrat. There was an obvious pressure on Democrats to vote in favor of this bill.

 

Some of the crowd opposing SB277 at the
Democratic Convention in Anaheim, May2015

The bill passed and was signed into law by a Democratic governor June 30, 2015. Prior to this, I had worked my heart out to convince those who mattered it was a despicable bill. I had gone outside of my comfort zone to take action, attend rallies, and plead others to take action. I went to the Democratic Convention with others opposed to the bill, to take it to the source-- to show our Democratic leaders supporting the bill how it was hurting their people, their constituents, me. This is where I watched as those we were imploring to help literally pointed and laughed. They smirked at us through the glass of the building (we were organized outside) and to ensure they had established their upper hand over the people, they initiated a vote inside the convention that day to demonstrate party support for the bill, a gigantic slap in the face to the people outside.

 

Us before the rally in Anaheim

I witnessed the existence of and proof of internet trolls who exist and are paid simply to keep those waking up to appear non-credible, to keep the masses under a grand illusion by way of belittlement and creation of division.

 

I lived the reality that persuasion is only possible through respect and relation to the audience. Yelling and allowing oneself to become belligerent and pushy gets the persuading party the opposite of what it seeks. Then again, sometimes those we aim to persuade are just bonafide assholes and are too involved with corporate interests and profit to see those seeking their aid as anything but  a nuisance. I learned that, by and large, the Democratic party is exactly the latter.

 

I aged a lot over the course of the fight against SB277. Then again, I gained actual perspective. When the alarm clock wakes you out of your deepest and happiest slumber, it is a grumpy and reluctant awakening to say the least. When the political regime that is the American way is suddenly stripped of its friendly guise, the truth is so obvious one wonders how she ever thought otherwise. You know when you see the Magic Eye hidden picture and then you can't un-see it? And then you look at other Magic Eye pictures only to see the image immediately? It's the awakening.

 

I fell down the rabbit hole and I'm scarred from it. It's still hard to sleep at night.

 



Senator Pan, whose legislation denies my children their
right to an education, in all his political hypocrisy.

So, the Left turned me away.  California became ugly to me. The political system that is America turned me away. Nevermind that my children can't attend school in my home state. Nevermind that the life we had envisioned in California has been obliterated. Nevermind that dare I mention my views on this topic I am discriminated and judged.  Should I return to California-- strictly because I  may ultimately decide I don't want to be banned away from family and friends-- it isn't the end of the world to home school my girls. The thing is, my future has been decided for me. My lovely leaders-- nothing more than self-interested politicians-- have sealed my fate and governed in my best interest... you know, because I wasn't educated enough to make the "right" decision. I would live in California under the premise that the way I may exist there has been dictated for me as if I'm some lesser citizen.

 

I fought a battle and I lost. There are three silver linings to come of it:

1. I became a stronger, more aware person who will never take political decisions lightly again, nor will I underestimate the evil that is our Establishment.
2. I am now on the adventure of a lifetime. I would have never left the safety of the familiar and we would have aimed for the typical American Dream, never seeing the world that is out there and never exploring the possiblity that there might be a happier life and place out there for us.
3. I have met countless other fearless and persistent parents and Americans. These new friends are modern day warriors and they work diligently and tirelessly to awaken others. The concept that America's system is broken is their new reality, as well, and we stand united in the hope of a better future should more of us wake to this reality and fight against it.

If you're still with me after all of this, thank you. I know my blog entries are not exactly single sitting reads, and I appreciate my friends who care enough or are interested enough to take a detailed glimpse into our lives through my words.

 

I'll leave with a reflection on this experience that one of my fellow warrior moms shared with me Mother's Day of last year:

 

"This past year has been an exorcism for me. An exorcism of frivolity, an exorcism of vanity, an exorcism of banality.

The act of activism will turn you inside out, tear you apart, and aggravate every sore spot one's hard life has generated.

Activism itself is an act of dissonance as it's an experience in continual heartbreak, but the heartbreak occurs as a direct result of fulfilling one's purpose in this world.

 On this Mother's Day I would like to honor the amazing women I have met through activism. The women who sacrifice time with their families to fight. The women who lose sleep, time at work, and peace of mind to fight. The women who take ridicule and heartbreak and defeat and use it to make a shield of armor, because they can't and won't give up fighting for their children.

These women are my friends. These women are my heroes. These women are the very essence of what motherhood is. Fierce fighters against tyranny. Valiant warriors protecting children. Unconditionally loving human beings.

For all the times I have fallen and you have picked me up, for all the times we've witnessed each other fall and picked each other up, for honoring my children and your children and all children with your unwavering commitment to stay in this war, I salute you.

You are the bravest and most courageous of human beings. In honor of every Mother who has watched her child suffer and refused to take that suffering lying down. In honor of every Mother who sacrifices so much of herself to support her child, to protect her child, to heal her child. You are my heroes ~ my sister warriors ~ and I am a better person for having forged bonds with you in the fire of this war."

- written by Jen Colleen