Mosquito!

After reading the last blog my sister, who with her husband just started this adventure called full timing, recommended another way to deal with campers.; one she had read about in one of those RV travel magazines.

“Whenever dealing with someone who is simply not getting it” she said “you can impart a little bit of wisdom AND get away with a bit of minor assault by using a vigorous slap quickly followed by the announcement of “Mosquito!” in a somewhat loud voice.”

I've thought about this during our three week trip southward; reflecting on how useful this technique could be not just in camp hosting but pretty much in all aspects of life. There are so many nuances you can utilize; in fact you are pretty much only limited by your own imagination.

Here are a few examples.

The polite planned slap: This is where you are facing the camper listening to what to them is I'm sure a very serious situation but all you hear is “Blah Blah Blah”. Calmly announce “Hold still” then quickly but gently slap the person. You MUST follow this by the obligatory “Mosquito!” else you risk physical confrontation.

The surprise slap: Used in a number of ways and circumstances usually involving the observation of a potentially really stupid activity. A good example is the subject reaching for the black tank valve and not having a drain hose connected. This one is time sensitive so quickly apply the slap and shout in a somewhat louder voice “Mosquito!”.

The gracious slap: Usually used when you are a third party in a conversation and notice the intelligence literally draining out of the involved parties. As the case warrants you can combine the polite planned slap with the surprise slap by announcing “Excuse me” at the exact moment you apply the slap. Then of course, follow the action with the obligatory “Mosquito!”.

As I mentioned, it took us three weeks to get down to the sun belt. Two weeks were used parked in Pahrump Nevada while suffering through then recovering from some nasty colds. Between the long desert drives and the two weeks sequestered, I have given this method some deep thought. I vaguely recalled my mother using something very similar though rarely codified in such a distinct manner. If memory serves (I was usually a little dizzy at the time), she said “I'm applying some common sense.”

My father did the same thing but it usually involved a boot to the rear. He explained the different location as simply going to where my head must be residing.

I can't shake the glimpses in my mind's eye of what the world would be like if we all practiced the mosquito defense. Of course now days we would have to come up with a way to do it online. Hmmm, imagine a computers or phones capable of reaching out and applying a slap – social media would blow up!

Enough for now - today its hello from Yuma Arizona.

Our intention is to meander the southwest and perhaps wander as far east as Rockport Texas this winter season.

Chris is teaching herself how to knit and I'm puttering around fixing things, breaking things or simply just rearranging things.

Who knows, I might just break down and change the Jeep's oil myself.

Mosquito!

The Downsides of Camp Hosting

First off, our slide has been healed! Sacrifices to three of the RV'ing gods were completed in good order: The god of travel – to ensure the slide would go out only when we wanted and return on demand. The god of glamping to release our access to the washer, dryer, and our sock drawers, and lastly the god of underwear (not really sure why or even if there is such a thing but I'm confident it has something to do with socks and not going commando.)

For two weeks we have suffered with cramped living and the necessity of using the campground laundry in a most public manner (hmmm, perhaps this is where that underwear god comes into play) thus tarnishing our aura of camp hostlyhood (is that a word?). Can't have that, we could destroy the false impression some campers have of our absolute perfection. Isn't there a saying about a fool born every minute? This leads me to the theme of this blog's entry.

Keeping up the mystique surrounding being a camp host is just one facet of the job. Probably the hardest is the one of restraint – in taking that extra moment to bite one's own lip to prevent saying something untoward, or sitting on one's hands to stave off the temptation of slapping an errant camper up side the head or turning one's head so avoid seeing the resultant disaster occur when a warning is not heeded.

Walking hand-in-hand with restraint is perseverance. The ability to recite with utmost precision the very same words carved into the sign you are standing next to when asked about that same sign. (example: “Exact change required”) - [see sitting on one's hands].

A camp host must be resolute; steadfast in his or her duties when faced with a camper who starts the conversation with “Can't we just...” or “I was wondering if ...” These are the moments when a combination of biting lip and hand sitting are highly recommended. This past week's example: Camper approaches and says “Can't we just unhook the sewer hose without closing the valve so it can continue to drain?”. This while knowing said camper has yet to open the other valve.

Another example is when the same camper continues with “I was wondering if I can use some gasoline to get this fire started?”.

This is probably an excellent time to mention camp hosts should have an encyclopedic memory and instant recall of all the local emergency numbers for any campground they are hosting at. Further, when faced with areas of no phone service, what alternative means of communication are available – not withstanding the smoke signals and screams our campers inevitably produce.

Camp hosts are available. At all hours. In all kinds of weather. Regardless of the large, well lit sign saying “Off Duty”. This morning provided a fine example with a knocking on the door at 6am waking me from a very warm and cozy sleep – one which I had planned to continue until at least 8. The knocks continued while I dressed for the day, even though I shouted quite loudly that I was coming (yes, there were some under the breath and through a bit lip explicatives following that advisement.) Approaching the door I notice a bit of frost on our jeep roof and see the thermometer reporting a brisk 35 degrees. While walking over to our duty sign and making a production out of changing it from “Off Duty” to “On Duty I greet the camper with a smile on my face (amazing how expressive you can be while biting your lip) and say “How may I help you at this EARLY hour?”

“It got cold last night, do you think my hoses are frozen?” followed without taking a breath with “I was wondering if I should defrost them and how do I go about it?”

Normally I would have asked if the camper had actually checked his hose. Normally I would have advised the hoses were probably okay since it was just an early morning frost that would soon to disappear with the sun. Normally I would have done that. IF it was a bit later in the day. IF I hadn't been woken up so bloody early. IF I had had even one small sip of coffee. Instead I practiced one of the up-sides of camp hosting – that of giving out information that sounds thoroughly plausible but is absolutely useless to the recipient.

I replied “While this was an early morning frost, there is the distinct albeit remote possibility some portion of your hose may have experienced freezing temperatures. Thawing the hose at this point can be tricky as a too cold hose can easily crack if stressed. I highly recommend the chaffing method to defrost your hose as long as you do it gently. Get a soft terry cloth or those new micro-fiber ones and slowly begin wiping and rubbing the hose to make it pliable. You'll need to do the entire length, gently testing as you go to ensure you are not stressing the hose and risking rupture. Do that for about an hour or so and you'll be good to go.”

Yep, I'm bad. But lets look at it this way. The hose may well indeed have experienced freezing temperatures (true statement). For maybe a minute or two. If a hose is at absolute zero it can indeed crack if stressed (I've seen those liquid nitrogen videos on YouTube.) Rubbing the hose may indeed provide enough friction to warm them slightly. (Okay, this one was a stretch but it does keep the camper occupied while I returned my warm rig and made a fresh pot.)

Probably the biggest downside of being a camp host is eventually you have to move on. I wasn't kidding about the frost on the jeep – its time to head further south and a warmer climate.

As I look out the window I can just see the camper through the bushes. Weird how he's only about 10 feet from the water spigot yet he has a 50 foot hose he's wiping down.

A Blog is a Diary–Right?

Dear Diary,

I know its been nearly a month since my last entry but I have excuses! Between crabbing, clamming, viewing and just plain laziness, the time has simply slipped away. Far faster than it should I'm sure.

You'll be happy to hear that during this lapse no serious injuries to ourselves nor breakages to our home have occurred. I won't count the two times I slipped and fell into the creek or the time I had my back to the surf and got slapped by a wave. Getting soaked isn't an injury and the part of my body that hit the ground first has oh so plenty of cushioning.

We are hosting and awaiting parts for one slide's gearbox which began shedding teeth faster than a meth addict. The slide remains in so our bedroom is just a little more cozy for the time being.

Today, October 31^st we have two seminal events occurring that have me reminiscing of past times. The first is a far too fast approaching 60^th birthday. The second is Chris and I have reached the magical threshold of being the senior park hosts present and will be assisting in the training of a brand new host who arrived last night.

As I do look back it has been one glorious ride! Sure there were a few potholes in the road but overall there is not much I wouldn't do again - not just because I'm a slow learner!

I treasure 20 years spent in the Coast Guard working in a variety of assignments, all with some of the finest men and women you could ever meet. A few of us remain connected and each contact with them is a reminder of just how fortunate I am to have met and now know them.

I also fondly recall nearly 20 years as a 911 dispatcher. Another group dedicated to helping people who are experiencing their worst moments. Despite the seriousness of the job there were fun times and I do cherish them. Most of all, I do miss the people I had the privilege to work with.

By any measure we are still rookies at this full-time RV'ing thing and I must say it is shaping up to be another 20 years of wonder and joy.

And perhaps the occasional sticky slide.

Stuck In a Rut?

And what a happy rut it is.

We're back at Sunset Bay for the fourth time and the place continues to amaze and entertain us (mostly the campers do the entertaining). This fall the weather has really cooperated with sunny days, cool nights and an occasional drizzle to keep us honest.

One of the questions we're always asked is why we return year after year instead of exploring the country. Aside from economics we have been very fortunate to have been able to work with outstanding people in gorgeous surroundings. I hope our past, present, and future photographs convey just how wonderful the places we've visited have been. Unfortunately, mere photos can not capture the smells, sounds and the caressing breezes.

Like our visit to Charleston Bay where a fellow camphost is putting out the pots for the day. Can you hear the seagulls? How bout the buoy in the distance or the sea lions barking from the floating dock. Today was a warm one but the breeze from the ocean made it oh so pleasant while bringing with it a salty freshness to the air.

Back at the campground the host K9's made sure we were doing the job right. That and making sure I had the correct number of treats for a tour of the park. (Minus 2 for the inspection toll.)

So in a rut? Not hardly. Consider it more of building new memories in places we call “home”.

We have done something a bit different this fall though. During this past summer we found the numbers of RV'ers on the road have increased by an order of magnitude making finding spots to stay somewhat problematic. To combat this (okay, my bad, its all on me) we have changed stride and instead of spontaneous routes and stops where there is always a question of whether there will be space available, have actually broken down and made – dare I say it? PLANS!

Chris learning how to prepare fresh caught crab.

Much as I hate a teaser, I’m going to have to do it. Plans have been made but at this point I hesitate to give specifics simply because nothing is carved in stone - yet.

In general, our 2018 schedule will be filled with visits to Washington, Idaho, Montana, Utah and yes, we'll be returning to Oregon. Our intention is that for every campground we have hosted at in the past will be counter balanced by ones we have not and in some cases even camped in.

The Vagaries and Varieties of America

And our tourism continues. For you grammarians out there, yes, I know I shouldn't start a sentence with “and” but hey, this is a blog which is somewhat like a blob only it has pictures and in my case on a very rare basis, a semblance of intelligent discourse.

Our last entry left us on the road to Regent North Dakota, the southern starting point of the 32 mile long, self proclaimed Enchanted Highway. According to Wikipedia this backroad is the home for a collection of the worlds largest scrap metal sculptures. No, not because there are a lot of sculptures, but because each one is huge! Scattered along the highway about every 4 to 6 miles these creations are quirky Americana at its best done by a guy who had never welded before nor was considered an artist when he began.

There is no theme other than the underlying one of American Gothic and 60 years ago these would have been right at home on Route 66 except for one glaring fact – no commercialization. Other than an advertisement printed on an 8 1/2 by 11 inch piece of paper posted on the information kiosk and a donations box, there is nothing but the sculptures, information about how they came about and an acknowledgement of the folks that helped make each site happen.

Another feature of each site was the size of the turn-out/parking lot. When in traveling mode we are about 56 feet in total length with a turning radius of a small country and the inability of backing up. No problem here. Each attraction was graded pretty smooth and there was tons of room to get in and turn around when we were ready to leave. It is so frustrating to see an attraction, gas station or other pleasant stop only to have to pass it by because we didn't fit.

From Regent we headed for the beach. Beach North Dakota that is. Instead of a nice visit to this border town, we ran smack dab into a Montana grassland wind storm that smacked us around like an MMA fight. At one point a side gust grabbed our slide awnings, billowing them out like a parasail. Note to self: motorhomes are really not made for parachute braking.

After pulling over to check for actual damage and a change of pants we very cautiously continued south and ran face first into Wyoming's version of a grassland wind storm that, combined with some rough roads guaranteed we’ll be visiting the dentist for loose fillings.

You know how a rainbow always makes you feel refreshed after a storm? Well, after the windstorm there wasn't a rainbow in the sky but there was an RV park on the ground. Fort Bridger RV Park in Fort Bridger was our “rainbow”. An all grass park/campground far enough from the interstate you didn't hear traffic and in the country enough to hear the cows and horses. We met a really neat couple of ladies from Virginia who were touring the western states – just friends we've had all along but hadn't met yet. We talked for hours and when we retired for the night, did so to a concert crickets. (There Annette, I said you would make it into the blog.)

I had promised Chris' sister that we would return before summer ended so they could spend some more time together than just the reunion so we headed back Riverside RV just south of Preston Idaho. While the park is tiny in comparison to most we visit; a spacious grass site with a 50 amp hookup and a view to die for is well worth the $20 a night. Look up serene in the dictionary, their picture should be there. Only downside is their spring water is at very low pressure so you have to fill up your tank and rely on the onboard pump for use.

Next stop – Joseph, Oregon. Why? Absolutely no reason whatsoever. We were on the road, had no destination, and pretty much had all month to get there. We wouldn't have known about this little gem if it were not for another camp host who mentioned it. Located east of La Grande Oregon on the shores of Wallowa Lake and named after Chief Joseph, this small town of around 1,000 people was founded on timber but when the market crashed, the only thing holding it together was agriculture and even that wasn't doing too good a job. Then, a little over 30 years ago, three bronze foundries opened up in the area giving the town a real boost. Along came some artists as and you can see their work on nearly every street corner.

Yep, tourist candy.

Wallowa Lake is the other attraction and with it comes a very popular state park. Chris and I took a drive through and were really impressed. Pretty easy to do when we had to stop every 100 feet or so for meandering deer, bunny rabbits and squirrels. We've applied for a hosting position for next year and we'll keep you updated.

Reluctantly we left Joseph and continued our way back to the Wenatchee area to pick up mail, do some light maintenance on the motorhome and get prepped for our 2 months of hosting in Coos Bay before heading south. I wish I could say it was a wonderful drive with amazing scenery and wildlife but it was not the case with the number and size of the wildfires cloaking the country in smoke. The news has been covering hurricanes Harvey, Irma, and Jose and in doing seem to have overlooked the fact Montana, Washington, and Oregon have been the victims of some huge fires this year. Yes, I should also mention the Los Angeles area but they at least got some news coverage. Anyway, enough venting.

What we did was to detour ever so slightly and stayed low, along the Columbia River at a place called Crescent Bar, outside of Quincy. We were still within 40 minutes of Wenatchee but since we were out of the valley we avoided a good portion of the smoke. Besides, not much could beat the view even with a bit of haze in the air.

I've used the past week's downtime to finally wire the Jeep's lights so we can do away with the magnetic ones we’ve had for the past 3 years. Took me a couple of trips to the city for parts, some scraped up knuckles, and a stiff back but I got 'er done. Mr. Keppner, would you like to visit the hot tub? Oh yes!

Oh Good Grief, We've Become Tourists!

Since our last blog entry another 1000 miles have gone by. We spent almost a week with family at our annual family reunion and while the venue changed and the kids have grown, the familial comradery and hijinks remain. I mentioned the location had changed – for the better as we left the dry, dusty Twin Lakes of Preston Idaho behind and set up at the beautiful Hyrum Lake State Park outside of Hyrum Utah.

Good food, good conversation and the peaceful surroundings (except for the kids, their assignment was to run around screaming alot!) contributed to our sense of homecoming and renewal. I've always found myself torn between the allure of the open road and the sedentary security of family. I say torn but to be honest, love of the open road wins out for now and well into the foreseeable future, hitch itch will continue to direct our movements.

Back in July I posted we had purchased the Tire Patrol system from RV i Brake to monitor the pressure and temperature of all 10 of our tires. Due to one thing or another - mostly modifications to the sensors and program improvements, our equipment had not been operating at 100% and when the company was notified the owner, Dan Decker, offered to replace everything and start from scratch. We countered his offer by saying we would travel to Castle Rock Colorado so he could investigate the problems directly.

Two days travel and about two hours of shop time later we had a fully operational system. Seems there was the perfect storm kind of variables going on which prevented us from having a straight out of the box success and really confounded the owner and technicians. Yep, we are “special”.

So here we were, sitting just outside of Denver with its big city traffic snarls and road construction EVERYWHERE. We wouldn't have minded snagging a spot at a local RV park but there was not a single campground within 50 miles that had an opening and could accommodate our size. Yep, in the RV'ing world, size matters. 

That's how we ended up in a Walmart parking lot outside of Evergreen Colorado scrutinizing the paper atlas, googling every possibility, and calling far too many campgrounds to mention. I'm pretty sure it was after our second trip into the store that we found a spot just a little over four hours away in Grand Junction. 

We had never been there but had heard plenty of positive comments about the place from the times we had hosted at Flaming Gorge. Added bonus, we would be taking the pass over to Vail to get there. As a lover of mountain passes, curvy roads and the breathtaking scenery, this was a no brainer.

Three things stand out about Grand Junction:

1. Junction West RV Park is a gravel parking lot that has very spacious sites, wide roads, very little dust, and it is very quiet at night despite being a short ways from the interstate and a truck stop. We can highly recommend it as a good stopping over place.

2. Grand Junction and the surrounding area has some young but pretty good wineries. Perhaps in a few years they'll also have the restaurants or eateries that we were looking for.

3. Old town Grand Junction and the newer shopping areas on the outskirts are night and day. The newer stores offer the fast, in your face marketing we are now accustomed to while old town turns the clock back to a time where a leisurely walk past store fronts and the occasional visit within are expected and welcomed by the vendors.

So, two days of downtime allowed me to fix our dining chairs (cheap construction), shop for a new couch (just shop), and generally do the little maintenance jobs we all have at one time or another. It also allowed us time to decide on where to go.

I need to set the stage for this next part. In 1991 during one of our cross country transfers we had the opportunity to visit Mount Rushmore. With us was our trusty Canon AE-1 35mm camera. For the last 26 years Chris and I have referred to the photos we took as some of the absolute best with crystal clear focus, perfect exposure and superb filter choice. I would post up some of the photos as shining examples but for one thing - there had been no film in the camera.

That brings us back to Grand Junction, just two travel days away from redemption. Instead of roaming aimlessly with few cares of where we ended up we switched to full on tourist mode with a planned, detailed itinerary with every hour accounted for. To anyone who knows us I'm sure we looked like lunatics on crack. Especially when we put on our knee high white socks, slipped on our sandals, buttoned up our aloha shirts, and hung our cameras around our necks.

Did we finally get pictures? You bet we did! Things have changed in the quarter century since our last visit. Cameras in our phones and no film needed, just to name a couple.

We've spent a full week at the Heartland RV Park and Cabins located in Hermosa. Not a bad park at all with level gravel sites with patches of grass in between. I will warn you though, the park is next to the highway and there is considerable road noise. Of course the highway makes it really easy to get to all the sights and parks in the area.

We're on the road again, this time to Regent North Dakota the beginning of the Enchanted Highway.

Boo Boo's Happen – Hanging out in the Pacific Northwest

Living in a motorhome and traveling around may sound like life is all cherries and bon bons but I'll have you know, more often than not, its just “real life” - with all the bumps, bruises, hiccups and hundreds of assorted unplanned events. Yep, life happens.

If I mention them at all, I usually just gloss over these “happenings” as they tend to be uninteresting. Okay, to be truthful they are in all likelihood the direct result my own inherent stupidity which, if I remarked on each one, would take up volumes.

Case in point. In the last entry I mentioned returning to Wenatchee for some final punch-list items. What I did not mention was the argument I had with a small, hidden tree stump that snagged the front corner of our home. Obviously the tree stump won resulting in some cosmetic fiberglass damage. Fortunately, Larry at Interstate Autobody and Truck in Cashmere Washington once again came to our rescue (yes indeed, this was not our first visit to his shop). His superb workmanship and ultra-fast service is second to none.

I don't believe I mentioned killing my cell phone while we were at Alta Lake and I'm going to gloss over it still. I'm sure everyone knows that dangling your phone by the charge cord really isn't good for the phone or the cord. All I can say is thank heaven for extended warranties.

Are there more examples? You bet there are! We have these really cushy floor mats in the kitchen. They make doing chores like standing and washing dishes more comfortable. They also act as outstanding dart boards for dropped knives. Which reminds me of just how thankful I am for shoes.

Time to change subjects.

Of all places, the most deer seen were in my sister's back yard.

We've traveled a little over 2000 miles since the last entry. 

We've crossed the continental divide twice, going from sea level up to 7200ft.

 No matter what  form it has come in, we remain in awe of the majesty and beauty of our country.

The 9/11 memorial in Cashmere, WA.  Stunning!

Little Bighorn Battlefield

This last picture pretty much sums up my luck this past month. Fortunately, it IS called fishing for a reason.