A blood bath...

Last night was awesome if you like thunderstorms. 

We spent the night in St. Cloud, MN in a really nice campground, but didn't have much time there before we were in for the night...and what a night!

HUGE thunderstorms!!!  It wasn't a rain shower, it was a DELUGE!  You know how soothing it is to have the sound of rain on a tin roof?  Well, think of it hitting a tin box like a sandblaster - felt like we were under seige!  Flashes of light, crashing ever 25 seconds, and then the thought that we were sitting in a metal box with trees all around...hmmm...good thing I wasn't still wearing my aluminum foil helmet to get cell phone reception. 

The dogs weren't too crazy about it - that's for sure. 

We spent half the night cuddling on the floor with them, and to keep Julio calm, it helps when I sing a lullaby.  I know that's sappy - but it's true.  He especially likes the songs from The Sound of Music, but about the third time through "My Favorite Things" I had to switch to my old folk song repretoire - which means I  break out Joan Baez.  After a couple of choruses of "The Night They Drove Old Dixie Down" and I was ready to run screaming into the night with a Confederate Flag. 

Anyway, we made it through the night and woke up to that incredible smell in the air when everything's been thoroughly washed with a good drenching,. 

We headed out earlier than usual this morning and were on the road by 6:30 a.m.  Don unhooked the power, water and sewer and we jumped in and hauled butt.  We hadn't done any of the awning/pens/astro-turf stuff so it really was a breeze to break camp.  We didn't even get dressed and drove about 150 miles in our jammies!!

THEN we decided if we were going to get out with the dogs on a potty break - we'd better get dressed. 

But about the blood bath...

If we were to have a visitor to our humble abode...they would think we'd had a shoot-out!  Everywhere you look there are blood splatters on the walls, the blinds, the ceiling, floors...

It's those damn mosquitos again!!!  Gotta question though...HOW can a little bitty bug carry that much BLOOD!!!  I was using hydrogen proxide to get all the blood off the blinds and walls - but if a forensics team ever came in here they'd swear it was the hideout of a serial killer!!! 

So this evening, we went almost 500 miles today and we've stopped in Modera, North Dakota.  It's at a campground that's back into the hills...past the Cowboy Hall of Fame...don't ask. 

It really is restful and beautiful, very laid back and there's an elderly couple at the clubhouse singing old cowboy songs, very Willy Nelson-ish.  There's also something about being near these painted canyons and seeing the grasses on the plains waving in the breeze...

Can't help but drive through this country and think how incredible it is to be able to travel from one end of it to the other and not be stopped and asked for your "papers" or passport...and other than the toll roads - it's all pretty much free!

Free...what a cool concept - huh?  :o) 

Tomorrow we head out for Montana...remembering out eastbound trek - we're looking forward to it being a much better trip westbound.

We'll keep you posted! 

No news is good news!

Yes, we took off from Vermont and headed back home last week.  We are still in a Westerly direction, and changing our course to go the "Northern" route to try to get out of some of the record heat they've been having in the Northeast.  We don't "do" heat well, and consider it stiffling when you can wear your sandals without socks...you know you are! 

I haven't been blogging because while we did meet up with family back in Sandusky, Ohio, and we DID cross the Mississippi River (finally) it's been fairly long days, and when we found a campground, got settled which as you remember entails the following:

Park the RV, turn on the electricity, hook up water and sewage hoses, put the dog pens up, walk the dogs, do the awning dance, walk the dogs, feed the dogs, walk the dogs, fix something to eat. which by this point in the day, it's usually a sandwich...

Sing with me now:
"My bologna has a first name, it O-S-C-A-R,
My bologna has a second name, it's M-A-Y-E-R,
Oh I love to eat it everyday, and if you ask me why I'll say...
'Cuz Oscar Mayer has a way with B-O-L-O-G-N-A."

You can barf now, because that's what I'm gonna do if I ever have to see or smell another Bologna sandwich!!! 

oh yeah, then we get the dog dishes washed, sweep out the camper, walk the dogs, go take showers, get the bedding all put down, walk the dogs, and then go to bed. 

Not a lot of time to blog.  We do go to bed pretty early because we have to get up multiple times throughout the night to take Missy Moo out (yes, she's a old girl and we're still having issues with waking up in time to not wet the bed, etc.) and to be honest with you, driving endless days - there just isn't that much to blog about...

Anyway, we are making progress back home - we've been trying to get at least 300 miles under our belt each day.  I know that doesn't seem like much, but we are not driving a Corvette - we're driving a brick...a very heavy brick...and we have a leak in the main-Dane, so that means a lot of stops.  It's actually not so bad because about the time that one of the "kids" needs to go potty, we both are ready to stretch our legs too.

So, the photos I'm posting today - yes, it's a double blog that you'll be seeing today... 

I'm also including one from the Cheese Capital of the US...Wisconsin!! 

We made a piddle stop and couldn't resist getting a family shot with this local celebrity...don't know what he's really called, but we named him Fatso-Ratso!  Classy mascot, don't you think for a state that we actually found quit charming.  Very pretty green rolling hills, nice people, lovely farms off in the distance...just one of those places that makes you think, hey, there might be other places in the US where it might be nice to live...if it didn't snow so much 

Oh, so I forgot - it hasn't been ALL boring...today, we had something scary happen.  There was an accident about a 1/4 mile in front of us.  We didn't see it, but everyone hit their brakes and it took us a while to figure out what had happened.  It appears that a vehicle towing a travel trailer (we couldn't tell if it was a car, truck or 5th wheeler) but something must have flipped over and a trailer sort of "blew up" and looks like it skipped down the road in a splintered mess.  It was awful to see pieces of insulation, wood and personal items scattered down the road...  We don't know if anyone was hurt, but said a prayer as we went by and thought, but for the Grace of God...as emergency vehicles zoomed by from both directions... 

After that, everyone sort of drove a bit slower...hmmm...no wonder....

Will try to get another blog off, but know that as long as we're making progress and nothing too "exciting" is happening...it's probably a good thing! 

G'night!  :o)

Water. Water! Cool, clear, water…

Last note talked about getting settled in at the BFH and battling the insects, and only hinted about the water source. 

Like a lot of small places, not just in Vermont, but anywhere, water can be a bit of a challenge.  Having lived most of my life in larger cities and suburbs where water comes out of the tap in plentiful, clear, seemingly unlimited supply, the idea of having to “worry” about water is alien, or at least, unusual.  I’m aware that people all over the world have much bigger issues with water than we do, but it’s something to comment on here, and so my whining and ramblings will hit the higher points of what makes the BFH water an item that brings grins to most of us when we’ve contemplated visits in the past, and this time was no exception. 

So, before you read this, go into the next room, in a land blessed with cool, clean running water, and don’t taunt me that it’s not only chilled, filtered, softened, purified, artisanal, mineral enhanced, vitamin infused and comes in a variety of flavors and I’ll tell you my tale…or rather, here’s the sit’ch:

While the Roaring Brook – as mentioned and pictured in the previous blog – is strategically located directly across the street from the BFH, approximately less than 100 yards – please know that at no time (in the recorded history of the Bilger Family) has that flowing resource of clear, cascading water ever been tapped to flow within the confines of the BFH. 

In the summer, it’s what’s normally called a “creek” and the Bilger kids played in it, dammed it in places to form “swimming holes” and did all sorts of other “kid” things you’d expect living near a brook that wasn’t overly dangerous.  In the Spring, after winter thaw, it takes on the characteristics of a river – boulders and tree stumps may crash down, and the ice broken up from the mountain above, has been known to create a jam large enough to cause the road below (at the small bridge on the main road in Stamford) to overflow.  I’m thinking at that point - Roaring Brook is probably an apt name. 

So, a moving water source (you’d think) would allow the homes near it to have a consistent source of clear, moving water, n’est pas?

Hmmm…well, I have discovered that a majority of homes in this bucolic valley (and probably a lot of the state) have their potable water supplied by wells.  Most Vermont natives are rabid supporters of the environment and the fact that they draw their life-sustaining resources directly from it, would make a pretty good case as to why it’s important to keep the water, air, land as pristine as possible.    

That is the case here and the well is located underneath the house, in the “basement” – which is an entirely NEW topic for discussion…

However, I’m going to stay on topic (water) and explain why when you’re staying here, you have to consider how your water consumption (from the tap for drinking, bathing, washing, etc.) will affect, not only yourself, but the entire household. 

I’ve been down into the basement (only once) to check out the well, and just going down the stairs creeped me out so bad that I got to the bottom of the stairs, looked around, said, “Uh-huh, that’s a well…” and ran back up the stairs.  I’m not big on fright movies, so am certainly not an expert, but I’m thinking that a stone lined, subterranean basement with a 12 foot well in it would be the perfect place for a babysitter to discover, only to find smoke billowing out from under the door, dim lights  beckoning, as the music builds to a crescendo with a hollow voice intoning, “GET OUT!”    Muwahahaha!!!!!  Of course, this is where the dumb babysitter starts walking down the stairs…geez, dumb broad!   See, this is where I run to the RV, grab a big dog and both of us huddle under a quilt on the bed until sunrise. 

Oh yeah, the photos I’ve added of Donald filling up a couple of our empty containers at a free-flowing faucet on the side of the road – IS Vermont’s version of “bottled water”  =  Your bottle, Faucet Provided by spring water from the local spring…simple, easy, cheap!!!

The eagle has landed…

Well, we aren’t exactly the “eagle” and we haven’t just arrived on the face of the Moon, but it certainly does feel like we’ve been away for a long time and traveled a very long way. 

We arrived in Stamford, Vermont on Saturday, the 16^th, and while I’m aware this is now Thursday, the 21^st – it still feels like we’ve landed on the moon, but more accurately the OTHER SIDE OF THE MOON!!  If you can remember from watching the movie Apollo 13 or just science in general – we here on Earth cannot receive any radio transmissions from the “dark side” of the moon, due to radio waves, radiation, interference, blah, blah, blah…

Now, tune into the Geography channel and check your maps for Stamford, Vermont. 

Let me know what you think…dark side, or light side?

We have actually tried to contact people on our cell phones from the Bilger Family Home (hereafter referred to as the BFH – and you can assign any other acronyms you wish on this one) but we have tried to get decent cell coverage from the backyard of the BFH, the front yard, the deck, downstairs, upstairs, and was even going to try (at my darling husband’s suggestion) “from the top peak of the garage” to see if there was some way we could actually contact someone “on Earth” through the marvels of technology from this seemingly black hole.  AND…

it just ain’t happening…well, every once in a while, if I hold the phone up over my head, which I have  wrapped in aluminum foil (my head in foil – not the phone!) and stand on my right leg in a pirouette upon Donald’s shoulders – who by-the-by has to be rolled in 6-yards of chain-link fencing, and we are BOTH leaning toward Mecca, with me firmly grasping a sterling silver soup spoon in my left hand – it has been reported by the person on the receiver (who may are may NOT be the person we have actually dialed) says, “I can hardly hear you – sounds like yer calling from underwater in a Dempsey Dumpster.” 

What a picturesque image that must paint…

Aside from the lousy reception here in Stamford, let me give you a few other observations from this hamlet that is the cradle of my beloved’s childhood…

The hills are a beautiful green, rolling over lush valleys.  As twilight approaches, the landscape changes from shades of emerald green to a deeper hue of sage and evergreen and then blends into darker, dusty shades of verdigris…and that’s when the real drama unfolds…

We had scarcely gotten to the BFH, fiddled around to find the best place on Dad Bilger’s property to park, plug in, tap into a “water source” <- loose description here, more on that later, and “TA-DA” (drum roll please) deployed the AWNING!!!

WAHOO!  We did it in record time!!  It went up without a hitch and we have it unfurled in all its mildewed glory! 

We also got the ex-pens up for the dogs, which here have additional real estate options.  (That’s snob-speak for putting up extra plastic fencing and poles so that instead of having a postage stamp area of green astro-turf, they now have THREE postage stamps of space where they can languish on the REAL GREEN GRASS!!  It’s not just grass – it’s clover and grass. 

I can hear them crowing to their canine friends, or more likely howling into the night, what I think is an old drinking song, “Roll me over in clover and do it again!”   Certainly not a hymnal – well, at least not in the Southern Baptist Church of Sturgis – but even so, one can tell that it’s in doggy delight.  Especially Julio who keeps spending a significant amount of time rolling in the grass…as all canine’s should.  Heck, we ALL should do it!  He snuffles and snorts and wiggles and squirms, and looks entirely TOO blissful for it not to be an almost divine experience…maybe the old “roll me in clover” does have some ecclesiastical connections.  Ya think?

ANYWAY, I digress…what’s new!

Back to the “drama” of the evening…before the sun has fully descended from view – there is a swoosh of wind, a flutter on the non-existent breeze, and whirring of wings above, and then (quivering crescendo from the strings section) out of the darkness we are assaulted by flying creatures whose soul function is to torment, stab, sting and suck blood of any living thing.  I’m not talking vampires here (though the word “twilight” might have started to sway you) but mosquitos – the size of Chihuahuas, deer flies that have mini-machine guns, and these gnat-like things that “oh they don’t bite” but will show later (when smashed on the walls) to be sesame-seed-sized-blood-sucking-devils-with-wings which do indeed bite AND leave a welt that will itch the livin’ daylights out of you for the next 6 days.  

It’s hot, it’s sticky, it’s muggy, AND before I get totally wrapped around the axle with how “icky” it is here - there is the most wonderful sound especially at night (if you can get over the droning of the insects) of the Roaring Brook – which is across the road from the BFH and has been known to lull one to sleep…if you can stop slapping, scratching and fidgeting to keep from being eaten alive. 

I’ll give you more insights into our stay in the next few “editions” of this blog, but for now, I’m going to retire to my sleeping abode where I’ll huddle under numerous sheets to sleep…since we failed to bring netting.

Passing trains that have no names...

Sorry I haven’t been online for a few days – was planning to put one together on the 12^th and ended up camping for the night in the path of a thunderstorm.  Since our camping site was directly over a large (but beautiful) tree – I didn’t think it was prudent to sit there, on an electronic device that was tethered to a small post of electrical wiring, sitting in a metal box, and continue typing away while lightening cracked overhead…call me “chicken” but when it comes to lightening – I’d make Colonel Sanders mouth water and I DO believe all those National Inquirer stories like the woman while sitting in her bathtub talking on her phone during a storm got short-circuited…permanently. 

A few days ago, we were on the way to an intermediate stop that would put us in close proximity of a rendezvous with family members in Fort Wayne.  Our odd schedule and less than stellar performance getting out of the chocks meant were wouldn’t be able to catch them on the Eastbound trip, but will now catch them on the flip side.   

The destination we planned for today was Kankakee, Indiana and while it would take us off the main highway and down into smaller routes that traversed some interesting little towns and some VERY flat, straight patches of road.  It was fun to have different scenery than the Interstate. 

Donald did an excellent job mapping…plotting…planning or trip, and doing all the driving…he’s just awesome.   SO – you might wonder what exactly am I doing and in addition to being the consummate housekeeper for a vehicular kennel (that isn’t managed by Animal Control) I’m the one in charge of monitoring the levels of fluids in the various holding tanks.  Yes, not only am I responsible in making sure we have adequate water until our next stop, but I’m also the Chief Operator of the Poop System – COPS for short.  (Yes, I just figured out that acronym for the folks I work with - who are REAL COPS!)

For those of you not familiar with how RV’s work, I’ll give you a brief overview of a couple of things that I’ve learned.  While Donald and I share the dumping process (there are certainly enough latex gloves to cover us both) we’ve learned that two sets of hands are MUCH better than one when it comes to keeping really nasty hoses all going in the right direction at the right time.  If you’ve ever watched the old series, “Lost in Space” when Robby the Robot started waving his hose type limbs and shout “WARNING, WARNING, WILL ROBINSON” – you might understand how those flailing hoses can become quite unmanageable – quickly!

So, the other part of the waste management system (other than the dumping) is to make sure that while you’re carrying around 20-30 gallons of “YUCK and MUCK”.  I said I’d be giving the “uncensored” version of our trip, here’s the sanitized version – if you’ll forgive the pun: 

First off:  It’s important to make sure the holding tanks are properly monitored so that the amount held in each is at the appropriate level so that as you fly down the highways and byways you are not mistaken for a Porta-Potty on wheels. 

Secondly:  It’s necessary that you do not exceed the amount of fluids in any of the waste holding tanks as even the smallest miscalculation might result in an incident requiring the services of a HAZMAT Squad or the filing an environmental impact statement. 

In order to facilitate that obviously unsuitable situation, we’ve learned that you need to drain the tanks frequently, or whenever the Tank Testing equipment tells you to.  However, a day or two into the trip (when we had the tires incident, and all the other stuff going on) we realized the Tank Testing light – you guessed it – didn’t work.  So we became very aware of what went into and out of our tanks.  So, when we completely emptied the tanks after day two - we were under the impression that we were “good to go” - you veteran RV’ers are already grinning, aren’t you!

Yep, well about half way to one destination (and having successfully completed our first mutual dumping exercise) we were patting ourselves on the back for completing the task without, how should we say…letting the sh*t hit any fans.  We were blissfully tootling down the road (in 90+ degree weather) when we started wondering what the heck had gotten stuck underneath our vehicle ‘cuz something certainly had crawled up there and died! 

When we walked into the bathroom (which is about the size of our standard high school locker) it made our eyes water.  Okay, back to the drawing board, or in our case, the RV-ing for Dummies book, and lo’ and behold – we found a checklist that looks something like this: 

·         Empty (in an appropriate place) the holding tanks for the “grey water” and the “black water” - CHECK!

·         Add the appropriate chemicals to deodorize holding tanks – CHECK!

·         Continue to add these chemicals on a daily basis, based on the use, and temperature of the holding tanks – CHECK!

·         Ensure that after emptying the holding tanks and they are well flushed, add enough water to ensure that they have enough water for the deodorizing chemicals to react efficiently – OOOPS! 

We’d put in the chemicals, but there wasn’t enough water in the now empty tanks to give the deodorizing chemicals a fighting chance! 

You can bet that we quickly found a water hose, filled them to the appropriate level, and have been adding more deodorizing chemicals on a regular basis.  I can assure you we now travel without cars and trucks swerve off the road to avoid us…         

…and we just thought they were giving us a wide-berth out of respect. 

Let’s see, where else have we stayed…

We spent one night at the KOA Park in Kankakee, Illinois.  When Donald said where we were going to spend the night, I got sorta misty eyed.  Kankakee is a town mentioned in one of my favorite songs (back in the early 70’s) about an old railroad train that ran through that small town in what was (and still is) a bastion of the finer days of railway travel. 

The song is “City of New Orleans” and if you Google it, you’ll get all the details.  The part of the song that I remember is it talks about this train rolling along “past houses, farms and fields” and it make me think about what people are doing these days in our RVs…getting off the beaten paths.

When others are heading for more fancy, more “entertaining” destinations, there is a group of people who want a simpler type of vacation.  In more than one of the campgrounds we’ve seen a LOT of kids riding bikes, scooters, skateboards, running, playing badminton and laugh and squeal as they jump, skip and bounce up and down between campsites, the pool, the playing fields and the woods and fields surrounding them. 

We’ve remarked how infrequently we have seen kids on video games, or watching TV, but every now and then hear a little whining, “…do we HAVE to come in and go to bed?”  …where I’m sure they fall asleep immediately – exhausted from all the activity of the day.     …and here I sit on my laptop…geez! 

The more we continue on this adventure, the more we like it and have started looking at destinations that we can do on three or four day weekends when we return. 

So, I’m shutting this down for the night and hoping you have dreams filled with sights, sounds, and smells of the outdoors and new places…you know, the ones like you had as a kid when you fell asleep, spent from a day of playing outdoors. 

Oh yeah – and FIREFLIES are magical!!!  I don’t want to know how they work; I want to keep thinking they are fairies like mystical sparks caught on the wind!

Ice-cream can be magical!

I’ve been chastised (yet again) because photos I’ve posted that "supposedly" include Rose’e (who is normally referred to as “our black child”) doesn’t actually SHOW Rose’e.  We were accused of “leaving her behind and being too embarrassed to admit it.”  I won’t say WHO it was (Keri) but I want to prove that Rose’e is, indeed, with us.  In fact, she’s so “with us” that Donald can’t get to bed without having to nudge his way past her, and usually between at least two kids.  (Exhibit A)

I chose to sleep in the RV's overhead compartment.  You know – that shelf up over the cab where you always wanted to sleep when you were a kid?    …but as an adult, it reminds you of a coffin with mini-blinds?  Yeah, up there, that’s where I climb each night to slumber.

I’ve actually gotten to like it.  It reminds me of when I was on a ship in the Navy and our “racks” were about the same size.  They hardly had enough room to sit up but had a flip top to a locker/compartment underneath where you could stow all your worldly possession.  It also boasted a flimsy curtain that pulled across but didn’t really provide any semblance of privacy, and a crappy mattress.  Navy folks are nodding their heads up and down for I speak the truth. 

But back to the Rose’e issue being a “racial thing” – it just ain’t so!  As you can see, we have three “fur-faced children” – two are what we refer to as “the blondes” and Rose’e – who is the black one, and she is indeed black.  See?  Nothing racial about it – just a descriptor. 

Let’s see - details about how how it went today…

Carpe Diem - we got up early (5 a.m.) eager to get on the road but first our most pressing task was to again demonstrate our mechanical talent and ability, once more show our grasp of the finer points of awning retraction...ahem… 

After getting all the “stuff” stowed, kids fed, and basically attired.  I’d like to point out here that there is no earthly reason to fix your hair, put on make-up or dress “cute” when you KNOW you’re going to spend the next 12-18 hours getting your hair blown, your clothes shed, slobbered and stepped upon…and you’re also going to climb in and out of an RV into sweltering heat multiple times to water and walk the kids.  I vainly (and admittedly, there is vanity involved) attempt it anyway.  My results are visible by the fact that I’ve posted NO photos in which I appear.  ‘nuf said. 

Anyway – back to the Awning Adventure:

We had such a lovely time trying to get it open and functioning the previous evening that you can scarcely appreciate our zeal in getting the d*mn thing retracted.  Let’s reiterate – we had no directions, and were fumbling in the original endeavor to put it UP.  We had the same directions and insights in taking it DOWN. 

Numerous attempts at using this “thinga-ma-jiggy” to depress that “gizmo” while sliding those two “jobby-doos” into that…”what-cha-ma-call-it” resulted in nothing more than some new and (I might add) very creative swear words.    

With Donald’s encouraging remark, “If we don’t get this f------ thing down we’re going to be hauling down the highway with it hanging off and flapping on the side.”  I visualized that event which led us to proceed with renewed vigor to return the awning to its original configuration WITHOUT resorting to the use of an impact wrench, blow-torch or sledge hammer.  Needless to say it was anxious and tense at our campsite, but once more, diligence, patience, and a few more creative swear words, and we miraculously got it retracted and locked in place…vowing “never to open that d*mn  thing again.”   

“But honey, what about when we have to open it to scrub the mildew off?  We can’t keep that skanky thing attached – it’s probably infectious!”   

“We’ll worry about that when we’re parked in our driveway.”    <- good plan – gotta a love a man who suggests a great solution rather than the name of a divorce attorney. 

So, the rest of the day actually went pretty darn well…ney, I would say doggone well.  We made over 400 miles, through highways that were draining from recent flooding.  (Exhibit B)

For a very serious moment here - the amount of devastation that the recent flooding caused to beautiful towns, homes, farms, ranches and LIVES is…well…heartbreaking.  There are numerous agencies trying to assist the victims, but honestly, it will be years before what the River has taken can be repaired, reclaimed or remedied.  Anything we, as Americans, can do to help our own countrymen is not only appreciated, but appropriate.   

We also went through miles and miles of construction and could almost hear the drivers behind us saying, “I-hate-those-stupid-old-people-in-that-d*mn-RV- slowing- down-traffic.”  To which we would like to reply, “No sweet-cheeks – we’re going as fast as the vehicles ahead of us, you just can’t see past our hulking mass to know that we are not the problem, but please thank your State Department of Transportation in conjunction with your Federal Dollars at Work.”

Let’s see, oh yeah!  We finally found a Dairy Queen for Donald to get his most favorite dessert – a Peanut Buster Parfait.  He really had put up with a lot so far on this trip and when I kept saying we should stop for one, he declined because we didn’t need to stop.  After enough convincing (nagging is such an ugly word) he gave in and we swerved off our original course for 30 delicious minutes at a DQ.   It was worth it - he and the kids enjoyed it immensely.  (Exhibit C)   

Recap of the day  - Good day overall, which ended with an early turn-in (to yet another KOA campground) and a refreshing dip in the pool.  Gained 400 miles on the map.  Bypassed flooding…mostly.  Survived killer temperatures with a helping of soft-serve ice-cream, and avoided bloodshed in the retraction of the awning. 

Ahh..another successful day in the Three Danes Inn Adventure, and I’m heading to bed and my comfy coffin with mini-blinds, but CLEAN COOL SHEETS!!!  (FAB-ulous Laundry Facilities at the KOA!)   ;o)     

Now where were we?

Remember me mentioning the KOA campground?  Well, we spent last night in Gillette, Wyoming, and it should not be unreasonable to add that we practically kissed the ground as we exited Montana.  Not to give Montana a bad name, but we drove over the border into Wyoming feeling like Custer wasn’t the only person to get their butts kicked in that territory! 

There was no posting yesterday because it was pretty uneventful (Halleluiah!) well...other than a weird campground named Green Trees – Crazy Woman Campground.  NO LIE!!!  I’m not making up this stuff!  This was a small (and a tad creepy) piece of property nestled between the Campbell Country Hospital and a REALLY nasty looking Laundromat right off I-90.   The whole place had an odd feeling - starting at the campsite they originally assigned us not being the correct number AND that it was covered with downed tree branches and a goofy guy at the registration desk. 

Don:  "Do you offer any discounts for AAA, AARP or Good Sam's Club members?

Goofy Guy:  "They endorse us, but no, we don't offer any of their discounts."  

Me:  HUH? 

Oh well, we only stayed the night and got up and out of there really early, congratulating ourselves on getting better and faster at setting-up and break-down camp each day.  Also, we’ve gotten pretty darn snappy with getting three Danes down three steep steps and out one little door without increasing our vocabulary of cuss words.  Timing is everything. 

But, not to disappoint - we did add one more critical element to our routine this evening – we decided to try to set up the awning.  (Stop it!  I can here your "oh-oh" even through the internet!) 

The guy we got the RV from said he never used it, but that it was pretty simple and the directions were in all that stuff from the original owners.  Really?  We should have had him show us. 

The directions we got from him were to a different make and model.  BUT - Donald, being brilliant – figured it out and showed once more why he is “my hero!”  After some fiddling - Donald rolled the awning out - in all its moldy magnificence.  Note: Don't be so trusting, and that's one more thing we need to fix when we get back home.  

So this evening, after setting up camp and getting the “kids” settled, we got out of our sweaty clothes and went for a dip in the campground's pool.  Ahhhh!  It was the perfect end to a long day of driving but we even got in a few “side trips” – nope, not to Mt. Rushmore (Old faces, Same places – their billboard, not mine!)  

We stopped in Sturgis (three weeks too early for the 71^st Annual Motorcycle Rally, and NO we didn’t get “Born to be Wild” tattooed on our butts either!)  For crying out loud – it was Sunday morning and the streets were empty.  The parking lot at the Evangelical Baptist Church showed attendance there was even a little skimpy.  Not even a Harley with an "I |heart| Jesus" bumpersticker.  We couldn’t find a coffee shop either - and that brings up another questionL  There is a Starbuck’s in BEIJING but they can’t have one in Billings????  What’s up with that? 

Another stop was a Wall Drug Store <- you’ll have to Google it, ‘cuz I have no clue how I’d describe it without using the word “tacky” extraneously but  got a photo of Donald there.

Anyway, long day, good miles, not too much chaos.  Check out the photos.  They're labeled, but if you're having problems with identifying who's who - Don’s the tall one who does NOT have his tongue out, panting…usually…

Could this be used in a commercial?

**Six Goodrich All Weather Radial Tires      $1070.00

**One Good Sam RV Emergency & Road Side Service Membership      $127.00

**One tip for Jesse from Lisek Tires who came to the rescue           $20.00

** Being only 2 miles from help...            Priceless!

Well, not EXACTLY priceless, in greenbacks, it actually cost quite a bit, but when you look at the bright side – as we are inclined to do on this trip because if we didn’t we’d be in tears and headed back to Seattle!

So, ask yourself - what would you do when you’re driving along (safely under the speed limit) and suddenly hear a loud thumping from the rear of your RV? 

Well, for us, it went like this:

** First look to see if one of the “kids” is rolling around loose.
** Then the lovely assistant springs up and over the front seat (of course with the utmost skill) while wrestling a 170 pound Dane off her lap (yes, Julio is still trying to drive - but I'm motivated by the smell of burning rubber.
** Our quit-witted pilot skillfully maneuvers to the shoulder of the road while vehicles are whizzing by like they are vying for the pole position at the Indy 500.
     Note:  The speed limit in Montana is 75…now tell me how often YOU stay under the limit…well they don’t either!
** Once stopped he engages the safety blinkers as the agile and graceful assistant deploys from the side door (those of you who know what a klutz I am can only imagine all this leaping and diving about.)

Picture me doing a safety brief like you’ve heard at the beginning of every flight and think of what ours would sound like after this latest "adventure":  

“There are four emergency exits, two in the front, one on the passenger side, and one in the rear of the vehicle.  In the event of an emergency, oxygen will not deploy from the overhead but you may feel a flow of oxygen as your hind end sucks the upholstery up from your seat.  Lighting will not appear on the floor showing you the way to the nearest exit, but you will be able to follow the other screaming passengers ahead of you…particularly your pilot and his lovely assistant will be trying to outrun and grab the three Danes who are faster, and likely even more frightened than of all of you.” 

So, the next event was to contact our Good Sam Dispatcher (one of the BEST things we purchased before undertaking this voyage) and they sent someone rushing to our rescue.  Truly, they were there in under an hour.  It was a comfort to know that our mishap occurred approximately 2 miles west of Butte, Montana, we had numerous blessings:  The weather was gorgeous though it was forecasted to be stormy.  There was a cooling breeze to keep the temperture from getting hotter than the hinges of Hades, AND we were 1/4 mile from the nearest off-ramp where we could park safely awaiting assistance…see, the bright side glimmers through!   

Our fabulous tire repair guy, Jesse (who can’t be any older than shoes I own) was strong enough (and had a floor jack) that easily got the offending tire off and the spare in place.

What happened to cause this (because I’m sure your trembling with anticipation) was the bracket that is behind the rear mud flap, broke loose and lodged into the mud flap, which then stuck - gouging into the inside tire.  By the time we had come to a stop, it had peeled off the top of the tread like an apple.  Jesse also informed us that the adjoining tire looked a bit dodgy.  We got a recommendation to a tire store in Butte and directions, and headed that way.  Thankfully again, we were only a few miles from a really good tire repair store.  When we arrived, they gave us top priority, had out tires in stock and put us on jacks within 30 minutes.  We were out of there in less than two hours.

Another memorable thing for me was that standing in the Safeway parking lot across the street, discussing how fortunate we had been (especially considering how this “adventure” COULD have gone) I looked up to see this HUMONGOUS statue of Jesus up on a mountain overlooking  the highway.  I have no idea what the kindly people of Butte call this monument, but to me that statue will forever be, “Our Savior of the Blessed Tire Change.”  

While Donald was commenting “at this rate, we’ll get to Vermont sometime in November” he then concluded, “what the heck – we aren’t on any tight schedule” and decided to stop early this evening, at a KOA.   <- more about this place later…but a quick preview – they are a little slice of heaven…they have SHOWERS, swimming pools and movie stars!  Well, not exactly movie stars but there are some RVs here with gigantic satellites, solar panels, buffalo wings on the grill and cute little patio lights around the astro-turf in their sitting area. 

Oh yeah, you gotta be tantalized about these!  …just as soon as I finish shaking the dog hair out of the rig, dropping the toilet fresheners into the potty, and fixing three bowls of dog food AND a gourmet bologna sandwich for my beloved and myself. 

Grace does come in all different ways and places, you sometimes just have to look for it…in my case, up was a good place to start.  :o)  

To boldly go were no man (or Great Dane?) has gone before…

…these are the stories of…oh, whatever.

 We finally made it out of the driveway with a destination of something other than a repair shop!  We headed out Wednesday (after a truly busy day) around 4:30 (Yes – into Seattle Rush Hour traffic) eastbound on I-90.  We didn’t have any particular destination in mind on our first night as we weren’t sure exactly how far we might want to go on our first night with the “kids.”  Since this was our “maiden voyage” so to speak, we expected that it would be a learning experience – we, however, had NO IDEA how much we would learn in the first few hours. 

We learned that Morgan’s biological clock tells her that it’s time to “go” regardless of we are outdoors or even at a stop - talented canine that she is – she can hump and dump in a vehicle traveling 50 mph down a winding mountain pass.    

We learned that we did NOT bring the correct sized plastic bags to appropriately dispose of her previously noted discharge.

We learned that it really is possible (not savory but indeed POSSIBLE) to put 4 pounds of sh*t into a 2 pound bag.

We learned that baby wipes are MAHvelous at cleaning not only babies, but adults, vehicle consoles, and GPS devices that are unfortunate enough to be in the path of errant fecal matter. 

We learned that by the time you get to a place where you can park for the night, regardless of it looking like the Bates Motel in Psycho – it maybe be manned by 5 young gentlemen who claim to own the first 24 hour fruit stand.  Fortunately - they also know how to hook up the RV services that are “around back” - at the little truck stop next door which is located about 35 miles from Spokane.  (Their cherries are wonderful and they swear their asparagus will bring tears to your eyes though we didn’t get any on this trip.) 

We learned that the kindness of strangers is heartwarming and combine with a few hours of fitful (but very needed) sleep it is enough to keep you from turning around and heading back home.

We learned that even though you’re dirty, tired, stinky, disorganized and discouraged that waking up the next day (with everyone still asleep) seeing the sunrise on a beautiful clear blue morning, AND being able to wash up, clean and rearrange the small space that houses 5 creatures – might keep you smiling…well, that’s until Morgan has another unscheduled delivery of fecal matter...

Today, Thursday, July 7^th, has been a much better day.

We figured out a really good way to get three anxious Great Danes out a narrow door, down three metal stairs and keep them from running off into the Rest Stop after a smart-aleck squirrel. 

The above feat can also now be accomplished without falling out on top of the said dogs, or getting your arm jerked from its socket, or allowing the trampling of the love of your life who (by-the-way) is trying to grab the dogs and simultaneously keep you from falling down said stairs - a$$ over appetite! 

So, now that I’ve got all the computer gadgets and devices hooked up and sync’d, and I've got the first "from the field" blog posted -  I’m going to turn out the lights, and hopefully get a less fitful night sleep. 

Oh yeah, we also learned that if you stop early enough to find a place with showers and laundry services that it makes the anticipation of tomorrow morning absolutely shiny! 

Here’s to shiny tomorrows…and Morgan’s cooperation with the timing of her hind-end delivery system. 

Apollo 13 - The Movie

Gene Kranz:  “Let's look at this thing from a... um, from a standpoint of status. What do we got on the spacecraft that's good?
[pause]
Sy Liebergot:  I'll get back to you, Gene.

Our last episode left our fearless travelers (potentially fearless) on the verge of deploying on their voyage…

After completing what we thought would be our last ‘service appointment’ to get the air conditioning tweaked and check out the ABS light that was intermittent – we had planned to zoom home and spend the weekend priming the pumps, filling the appropriate tanks with the appropriate liquids, stocking the pantry and uploading all the “stuff” that would hopefully make our excursion to the other side of the country a comfortable and safe evolution...

We picked up the RV and got about 6 miles and ($700 lighter) away from the dealership only to find the ABS light flickering on. 

In the GOOD thing / BAD thing game - that’s not a good thing.  So, we turned around and went right back to catch our awesome service rep - Paul Salazar.  Great guy - excellent customer service, but he could only shake his head and say, "I'm so sorry!  That ABS light shouldn’t do that - ever!” 

We handed the keys back and headed home not really as upset as you'd think - we considered ourselves fortunate that the problem was discovered BEFORE we left for the great yonder.  It’s one thing to be standing in the parking lot of the Ford Dealer's Service Department and being disappointed or inconvenienced.  It's another thing entirely to be stranded on the side of the road in Wyoming at I-90 mile marker 108 – with not a soul in sight and buzzards circling above.

[Fade to commercial] 

Scene opens with our heroine on the phone to the dealership, a touch of a grimace on her face…”Okay, so that means that you’re going to have it for another day or so and it’s going to cost how much?”  [audible GASP!]  “Well, okay, it has to be done, and I appreciate you giving us priority on this, just let me know when it’s ready for us to pick up.”      

…so we’ll be sure to bring our first born so we can get it out of hock! 

Sorry Tanya - we wouldn't really do that...besides, they said they only accept cash, check or major credit cards.  ;o)   

Regardless of what has happened in the repair process - we really like “Bill Pierre Ford (in little old Lake City) twenty-minutes away!”  <- that was the radio commercial jingle of this place back in the 50’s and 60’s.  Yes, they’ve been around that long, and since they are the “best” guys to work on the RV (Ford Econoline chassis) and came highly recommended, that works for us.     

Newsflash:  Gi-nor-mous RVs are NOT the speciality of most regular dealerships.  But Bill Pierre DOES have a mechanic who’s qualified and willing to crawl under a HUGE 29’ vehicle that is balanced up on inky-binky blocks (cuz it won’t fit in the bay on any type of lift THEY have) to do the labor. 

So, that's my big plug for the guys working on our brakes in hopes that karma rules apply, and of course we’re also praying frequently, lighting candles, burning incense and flying Tibetan prayer flags on the breeze.  I know I have a great connection with the folks who receive MY big-ticket prayers in shaky situations (like everyday life) but I’m not sure who the Vehicle Maintenance Gods listen to so I’m just trying to cover all bases here. 

Let’s see, further updates.  Laptop is back and  has been de-bugged, de-virused, de-wormed.  (Kudos to David at Office Depot).  The dogs all have their de-bugged, de-virused, and de-wormed drugs.  Donald is un-medicated and therefore still suspect, but I’m sure if I hose him off and spray him liberally with RAID – he’ll be just fine.  I don’t think there are any foreign species that are brave enough to take a run at me – I’m not sweet and tender like my Donny Bilger!

So, we’re going to take a breather this weekend and be staying close to home (still) to celebrate the Fourth of July with (hopefully) a minimum of fireworks being launched in our neighborhood.  I’m as patriotic as the next person - BUT - we live in a predominately Asian neighborhood with LOVELY neighbors – but one must remember - these folks are often the descendents of the group of people who INVENTED GUNPOWDER!!! 

You can scarcely imagine what Chinese New Year is like around here.  Circling above our home you might get a great view of the fireworks, but from the front porch - it looks like front row seats to a blitzkrieg. 

We'll keep all flags waving and man the hoses and fire extinguishers!