Its been almost a year, on and off, working on this Vintage Spartan Trailer by Getty, but she’s finally in place, on the mountain side, in front of the rock cliff at the Ranch. I’ve been clearing out the existing road that Archie Moore built to get to his indoor boxing ring, just for this moment. We definitely had our doubts on being able to pull off the move. The 1946 Trailer sits next to the old barn that Mohamed Ali and Archie Moore used to train in at the “Salt Mine Camp.” The picture below is of Ali and Moore sparing in that ring, that once was, and it makes me super proud to know my family is here now. My Grandfather, Golden Gloves in the Navy, took a couple rounds in that ring with the best of the best way back when. There’s so much amazing history on this land. Thanks for letting me indulge.
It took two men, a specially equipped Dodge (bed remove to get an extra 2′ of turning radius out of the 60′ rig), a bobcat, a couple chainsaws and a half of a day to back the beast up the windy embankment onto her final resting pad. The next 70 years will be the best years of her life. She’s getting the special treatment of a polish and complete interior gut and rebuild.
She rests just a 100′ from where the greatest boxers of the world trained in about the same years that she was born.
I finally sold the dump bed that is currently my black Dodge today. I decided I should use it one last time tonight to load up the #Kawi before my hydrolic help went off to another home. I hope I don’t miss this helpful toy. It’s never been so easy to load heavy stuff. The reality is that I’ve only used it a dozen times in the 5 years that I’ve had it. Kind of a shame.
If it was legal, I don’t think I’d have a problem towing it to Lake Havasu with either rig.
On the road again… 7am can’t come quick enough.
A or B?
The rock thieves upgraded, and are now working smarter not harder.
Where will your Dodge take you?
For as long as I can remember, I’ve dreamed about what kind of home I would own, how I would decorate it and what kind of view it would have. As a little girl trying to escape the heat of too-hot summers, I used to spend days curled up in my room drawing my own house plans of the kind of home I longed to have. As an adult employed in the creative field, I have spent my free time ripping pages out of decorating magazines and searching thrift stores and vintage shops for just-right-pieces for my home. As a wife, who said, “yes,” to the question, “Will you marry me and be the mother of our children?” I have spent time scouring cities while on vacation to find an ideal place to raise our kids. A place unhindered by too many rules and regulations. A place to explore and run wild in relative safety. A place to create visions for the future and lasting memories for a lifetime.
A “Market Baby” is what Sean would answer any time one of the obvious questions was posed: “When will you buy a house?” or “When will you have a baby?” Just as soon as the housing market drops….just as soon as the housing market drops. The places Sean and I have lived for the past 7 years have been less than ideal for a couple that runs their own business and has tons of hobbies. When I see friends that I haven’t connected with in a while, conversations like the following tend to come up: “I remember that time you two lived in a studio with a twin bed and there were tires stacked up all over the place.” Yeah, well, we couldn’t put them outside, or someone would steal them! Or something along the lines of, “Remember that time I came over and there was a motorcycle in your living room? Yeah, that was weird.” Actually, that was the norm, and it wasn’t in the living room, I like to refer to that as the foyer. And so, after almost getting run over by a transvestite while living in the studio downtown, having our stuff stolen at the beach house after coming back from a backpacking trip in the lone wilderness, living in a camper for 6 weeks while in transition, being woken up by donkeys in the morning at the ranch and having a live baby owl make itself at home by walking into my bedroom in the middle of the night in the barn, I can finally say, it has all paid off and we are home.
Our own home. A place so beautiful, I never dared to dream that it existed so close to San Diego. In my wildest dreams, I never dared to dream up a place this amazing. There is something new to discover here every single day on these 8 acres. Days can be spent down at the pond with the little waterfall that flows down into the creek, blazing a trail up the back peak for mountain biking or climbing up over and down the granite rocks that dot the yard. We have potential adventures galore and a little one on the way. During the middle of escrow, I got to tell Sean that we get to start our family in our new house. Yep, a market baby, indeed.