I’ve been struggling for a while to put into words the emotions we felt the day we spent the night in Williams. It’s a nitty gritty town in the Sacramento Valley, mostly full of farm workers. They basically get up early, work their asses off, come home late, get up and do it again. This was the beginning of October, the tail end of our Oregon/Northern Cal trip. We were looking for a convenient place to spend the night. On the map Williams seemed like the perfect spot, right off Interstate 5 and Highway 20.  On our handy dandy all stays app  the options were few, we were tired, so Almond Grove Mobile Park seemed like a good option. Our first hint, other than Williams, should have been the words ” mobile park”.

But what the heck, they accepted overnighters and they had pull throughs.  We checked in at the office, it was unlike any office we’ve been in. The best descriptor is a tornado ripped through the place or perhaps the couple that ran the park were hoarders.  Once we promised we weren’t partiers,  she then checked us in.  There were 6 or so pull through spots with full hook ups.  She instructed us to turn left at the office, then left again at the only doublewide in the park. She put us next to a 42 foot diesel pusher, which was probably three times the cost of our Airstream. Here we were, our neighbors and us, out traveling and living life high on the hog, surrounded by folks that were just scraping by.  I’m still grasping for words to describe our feelings. Fortunate? Lucky? But for the grace of God? Embarrassed? Empathetic? Sadness? Despair? Uncomfortable? Honestly I can’t put into words how we felt.

Mobile Park should’ve been our first clue.

The haves.

The have nots.

One of the nicer homes.

Not vacationers, but folks living in their trailers.

Coming home from work.

Count your blessings every day.