Transplant in Process

Recently, we picked up and moved to North Dakota. Besides a summer in England, I'd never lived anywhere besides San Leandro, California. In fact, I'd had the same mailman my entire life, even after I got married and moved out. When I was growing up, San Leandro wasn't unlike Bismarck. It was a tight-knit community where most everyone knew everyone else and you felt safe everywhere you went. But over the years, all of that changed and we knew it was no place to raise children. So we left. We closed our business, packed our homes and hit the road. I've since referred to myself, and my family, as transplants.

Here are my journal entries from the move:

June 18:

Our last official day as Californians, we celebrated Fathers’ Day then finished packing up the trailer. The plan was to leave bright and early the following morning. Somewhere between church and lunch, we decided to honor our tradition of leaving the night before our planned departure date. We pulled out of San Leandro at 9:42pm. It was Scott and Buddy in the RV pulling the ski boat. Following them was Pops, Grammy and Adam in the Denali pulling the trailer. And I brought up the tail, blocking traffic for the big guys up front, in the Dodge. We stopped for the night just north of Roseville.


June 19:

California became a distant memory when we crossed the state line at about 10am Monday morning. I told everyone via walkie-talkie, “Well, it’s only taken me 16 years to finally get out of California.” Grammy asked for clarification. I explained, “When I was 13-years-old, we went to Canada by car with Baba and Dido (Grammy’s parents). It was on that trip that I decided I didn’t want to live in California for the rest of my life and I cried the whole way home.”

After a long day driving across the Nevada desert, relying on bad jokes on XM’s comedy channel and strong-words from Dr. Laura on America Right, we finally made it to Cactus Pete’s in Jackpot, Nevada.


June 20:

If you want to know what a white plastic potty chair looks like when it’s flying through the air out of the back of the trailer, ask me! Hey, at least it was empty. We made it through Idaho and stopped in Billings, Montana for the night. Let’s not talk about it.


June 21:

“Country road, take me home to the place I belong…” Yes, I played this song for us via walkie-talkie as we crossed into North Dakota from Montana. A brief stop to look out across the Bad Lands near Medora was just what we needed to welcome us home. We made a quick stop in Dickinson to say hi to our realtor Tanna and pick up the keys to Grammy and Pops’ new place then head on down the road. We made it to Bismarck around 4:30pm and went to check out the new homes before resting for the night at the Ramkota Inn.






June 22:

We were filled with anticipation as we walked up the steps to our new home, which, coincidentally, we’d never seen before! Tanna (our realtor) and Karianne (aka She-she) saw the inside and sent us photos about three weeks before. Other than that, we’d only seen the house from the road back in January. Grammy and Pops had walked around the house, peeking in the windows, in March. Truly, the house was a gift from God. It is far better than we ever imagined and can’t express enough gratitude for this awesome blessing bestowed upon us.