Day 5 - St. Regis, Montana

Earthship Le Van Gogh Diary

Day 5 - St. Regis, Montana

I’m sitting at Rose’s Restaurant, a nice little home-cooking-just-folks kind of stop right off of I-90 not far from the border of Idaho and Montana. I’m enjoying my excellent breakfast as I tippity tap on my laptop and sip heart-stopping coffee. Espresso has nothing on this! I decided to take myself out to a restaurant this morning since I haven’t eaten in one since I left. That and I’ve run out of yogurt and need to restock. Ok, that’s a really lame excuse - I just wanted to eat out but I do need to get more yogurt. Fluffbutt likes to lick the edge of the cup when I’m finished and appears to prefer Black Cherry, as I do, so that’s what I’ll get.

A group of age-enhanced motorcycle riders are at a table near me. No long, gray hair pulled back in a tail with tattoos and Harley Davidson leather jackets - just regular guys and their wives, most older than I am, or at least so it appears, all riding cycles big enough to lie down on. In fact, the rear seat riders look like they are lying down. Amazing! And they have heaters and gloves thick enough to pick up dry ice with. Since it was cold enough to get goose pimples in the morning chill, I can only imagine what it must feel like to ride in the open. My tender little body would not tolerate that for long!

I heard them discussing 40° below weather in the area, which reminded me of a couple of winters I experienced in Maine. I wonder if Montana gets that every winter? Having your nose hairs freeze is an interesting experience but not something I’d want every time the snow fell. It got cold in Maine during the January/February months, but it didn’t always get so cold you couldn’t start your car without an engine block warmer. Here, I think that’s the norm.

After finishing my breakfast I hit the road and made my way back on to I-90 with Charmagne giving me approving nods every so often. I swear her accent is becoming British even though I didn’t change it. I do wonder where she’ll dump me out today. As usual I inputted (sp?) the exact address of my next campground but I reckon I’ll just wait and see. (Microsoft Works didn’t tell me to correct “inputted” so I guess it thinks that’s a word. Huh.) Inputting the exact address hasn’t worked before but since I don’t mind getting lost when I see such beautiful scenery as I wander around, it’s not really a problem. I only have a Rand McNally Atlas to guide me but it doesn’t have specifics for these small towns. And I haven’t been able to get a wireless connection here in the mountains so I’m left with asking for help. Fortunately I don’t have a problem doing that…

As usual I stayed in the far right lane tucked in between much larger rigs forced to go slowly down some pretty steep grades. There was no runaway truck lane and I prayed fervently that none of these huge trucks would lose their brakes as we careened madly down the hills going a terrifying 45 mph. Ok, laugh, but it was damned scary to me when my van was doing its usual lumbering back and forth across the lane and the truck behind me was getting waaaayyyy too close for comfort going into some of the sharper turns. I was hugely relieved when we finally reached a gentler grade and I could relax my hands which had been bolted to the steering wheel. The mountains are gorgeous but driving them in Le Van Gogh is just a wee too bit interesting for my heart.

About 15 miles before I knew I would see signs for St. Regis Charmagne piped up and announced that I had reached my destination. Oh, for cryin’ out loud! I could buy the dump-in-the-middle-of-the-road scene since at least up to now she had been within 200 yards of our goal. Fifteen miles seemed really over the top. Either Charmagne is just mentally defective or they haven’t updated the GPS coordinates in quite awhile. Sheesh.

I ignored her, indeed I turned her off since what good was she to me now? I continued driving until I saw the turn-off for St. Regis. I pulled into the Visitor’s Center which had a sign outside that said “Visitor Friendly.” Well, that’s good, considering that’s what it’s there for. Inside I found all kinds of information on Montana but nothing on St. Regis. I asked the lovely lady on duty and she looked a bit embarrassed as she searched for a pamphlet amongst the hundreds on display. She finally found a tattered map of the area which showed a town of very small proportions, most of which was centered around the turnoff right here by I-90. She did find a brochure for the St. Regis Campground I was staying in tonight and I thanked her heartily, making her feel a little better for not being able to give me any useful information about the immediate area. Perhaps there wasn't any to give.

I left with a friendly wave and stopped at a nearby grocery store (everything here is “nearby“) intending to stock up on yogurt and fresh veggies. After seeing the prices I restarted my heart and left hastily to go find a veggie stand. The prices were enormous! I guess the store manager had to raise them to make up for the costs of paying for the health care of the truck drivers who made it this far down the mountain. I did find a lovely little stand, however, and bought peaches and cherries and headed out to the campground which came with a 5-star rating and a Good Sam discount. There was also a discount for military, retired, active or veteran, so I was covered both ways (I joined Good Sam quickly when I saw how many sites discount for membership).

I checked in and was given a nice spot in the ‘quiet’ area, whatever that means. Perhaps they don’t put families with more than one child nearby. Whatever, I had it all to myself when I closed up everything and went to bed. Of course I took advantage of the showers and scrubbed and washed my hair, etc, before I went to bed because I planned on a Wal-Mart stay in Missoula. And although it is convenient to have my own shower, it is definitely not convenient to use it. You have to really want a shower to get this one ready and rinse your hair, turn off the water, add shampoo and lather your hair and scrub the rest of you, turn on the water, rinse everything very quickly, turn off the water, etc. And then towel dry your hair and your body, and make sure the drain area gets dried and then hang your towel on the miniature clothes line that can be strung across the van on this side of the lavoratory and kitchen. And check to see how much water you have left and if it will last you until you reach your next campground where you can refill your fresh water tank. And check your holding tanks to make sure you haven’t filled the gray water up yet. And don't forget to duck beneath the clothesline or you will strangle yourself in the night. All in all, if I’m desperate I’m glad it’s there. If I have a choice, however, I’ll take a full shower that doesn’t require so much work.

It was deliciously quiet after I returned to my little camper, for which I was doubly grateful that I had been placed here. The children section had been placed at the other side of the campground where there was a pool and other playground attractions, but over here was nothing but beautiful pines and grass and quiet. Just quiet. Camp fires were springing up all around me in the twilight and campers and tents alike were softly lit from within by lamps or overhead lighting. No stars shone above because it was overcast, but that was OK. I actually heard a rumble of thunder as a few drops of rain fell with a passing storm. I was delighted to hear it since Port Angeles rarely gets any thunder storms and I had only heard one once since I had arrived there. There had been more than that but I had always been asleep when they occurred, dang it. This was lovely to hear, like an old friend calling to me from the skies.

And now it is 7:00 p.m. and I’m tucked into my little baby trailer across from two monster motor homes. My rig would look like a golf cart between two hummers if I was in their middle. I’ve plugged in the electricity and water so I’m not using mine and I can turn on the microwave and air conditioning. Inside I’m laying on my back, laptop propped up on my knees, Jesse Cook strumming a Moroccan theme on his guitar with fantastic percussionists thumping a complicated beat to his melody and I’m loving this experience! Off to sleep I go and a good night to all.

So much for quiet. When I woke up this morning, my quiet spot had morphed into a more-than-one child spot overnight. Next door to me was a large tent with a young couple, two very small children and grandparents just climbing out with two very sweet doggies already happily sniffing around. The older dog was a shepherd/something mix but the younger was a black lab puppy with big feet and clearly not yet trained. Both ran over to me to say hi and I rubbed, petted and was licked thoroughly by them before the parents noticed and called them back, apologizing for their dogs’ behavior. Not at all, I replied, I love dogs and these are obviously very good dogs. They smiled and began setting up breakfast for their kids, putting the youngest, who appeared to be less than a year in age, in his(?) high chair. The little boy picked up his rattle and proceeded to pound his tray and screech loudly, doing what babies do naturally, which is make noise. His older brother, who looked to be about three, shyly came over to say hi and I smiled at him and waved but his father ordered him back and told him to stay put and go nowhere. I had a feeling that order wasn’t going to stick.

But a high chair? Camping??? Two babies??? The mind boggles! I confess that the thought of my niece, Melissa, camping with me when she was five years old, brings visions of total premature gray to my mind. Brian, who would have been three years old to Melissa’s five, would have been just fine sitting on a blanket and looking around raptly, but Melissa when she was a wee thing was curiosity and energy personified. The horror of it, oh, the horror! (Sorry if I’m embarrassing you, sweetie, but you know darned well that it’s true. LOL!)

Before I ate breakfast I went for a walk with my camera tucked in my pocket. I needed the exercise and planned to walk a minimum of 30 min a day whenever I could. Might as well take some photos while I was doing so.

I had seen some lovely fields with farm houses scattered about on my way in to the campground and I headed in that direction to see what lighting there was to be had and if I could see something I could reproduce without screwing it up too much. I saw much to be admired and shot several photos of fields, mountains and cows (leas) in an area that was so peaceful and quiet that I could hear nothing but the wind blowing in the pines. That’s one of my most favorite sounds in the world, second only to the sound of snow falling in the woods. Subtle but oh, so lovely.

And just as I was turning to walk back, I saw an owl sitting on top of a telephone pole. I thought it was a fake owl meant to scare away some kind of bird or rodent, or what have you, but it turned it’s head to look at me and that was enough to pull my camera out again. The picture of course didn’t turn out as well as I wanted since it was overcast and early but you can at least see the silhouette. Pretty cool, huh?

Anyway, I performed my morning ablutions, tidied up, stowed everything tightly and took off. All in all, St. Regis, what I got to see of it at least, is tiny and smack in the middle of some gorgeous country. And I was not able to pick up a wireless connection, so this blog is going to be late in uploading as well as yesterday’s. Oh, well.

Lessons Learned:

That I need to get a new fitting for the end of the sewer hose that fits older dumping stations.

That today was much better than the last time I dumped.

But still a weensy bit of spillage.

Which will get better.

That when I hose down the van I need to make sure all windows are shut, not just the driver’s side.

Oops.

That the gloves I bought for working with the sewer hose aren’t as waterproof as they claim.

That I need to buy another decidedly waterproof and skinny set of gloves to fit inside these.

That I’m glad I brought a whole lot of antimicrobial cleaning agents with me.

Eew.

That I can’t figure out how to set the correct time on the van radio.

That I have user manuals for everything in the van.

Except the radio.

Doesn’t matter, I’ll be changing time zones anyway.

But it still drives me buggy.

Oh, well.

Observations:

A large, very sloppy nest perched precariously on top of a telephone pole. An eagle’s nest, perhaps? I know they’re lousy housekeepers. And I don't expect to see an osprey's nest in the area. They're pretty messy, too.

A warning side by the road that says, “Watch for ice.” Not far behind this sign is another that says, “Watch for rock.” Okay, make up your mind, will you? I can’t watch for both and keep the van straight too, so which one is it going to be? How silly.

I saw a spotted fawn almost at full growth with no mommy in sight. That doesn’t mean the mommy wasn’t nearby, just that I didn’t see her. The fawn ignored me completely and didn’t even look up as I walked by but continued to nibble some grasses under her feet. Pretty little thing and graceful as only a deer can be.

Day 3 - Moses Lake

Earthship Le Van Gogh Diary

09.03.09

Well, I wildly overestimated how far I could get today. I had planned to spend the night in Coeur d’Alene in Idaho but only made it as far as Moses Lake in Washington. That was not quite 200 miles which is pretty darned good for me, if I do say so myself. But I had not anticipated driving into a stiff head wind into the mountains, silly me. Le Van Gogh is a good little camper guy but it doesn’t drive well in windy areas. It pretty much felt like I was steering a derelict old scow that was wallowing through a deep trough. In other words, not good. The van skittered back and forth across the lane leaving both me and the other drivers with a few hair-raising episodes of ‘too close for comfort’ driving. I shouldn’t wonder if they thought I had been drinking before I left this morning. I hadn’t, of course, but any policeman would have been justified in pulling me over and giving me a breathalyzer test. All he’d get would be coffee breath but I’d still look suspicious.

And even though the speed limit was often 70 mph through Snoqualmie Pass, I retreated to the far right with the trucks who were required to go no faster than 60. In that lane I at least felt like I might have a bit more control when a good blast of air came at me. And if I did lose control I could aim towards the mountain side instead of other drivers. A small consolation, but it meant something to me.

So all in all I think I did pretty good going uphill against winds with a wandering van that couldn’t decide which side of the lane to stay in. I don’t know yet what my mileage was for today but I’ll bet it wasn’t worth a tinker’s darn.

My night in the Walmart parking lot was interesting but amazingly quiet once I moved away from the guy with the noisy generator. When I closed the curtains there was only two other gonzo RV’s outside besides the generator-run small van. When I woke up this morning I was surrounded by seven more vans of a variety of sizes in addition to the two I started with, plus three pickup trucks, numerous assorted cars and one cab. Walmart is a very popular boon docking site, I’m beginning to see. It’s sure good for my budget though I noted that this Walmart stayed open all night. Perhaps that’s their way of getting money back from the free parking they provide.

After deciding that I would stay in Moses Lake tonight, I pulled over in a parking lot in town and googled any campgrounds in the area. There was only one listed right here in Moses Lake and since I didn’t want to drive any farther I called them up desperately hoping they might have something open for one little bitty RV. To my delight I could have one night for $25 if I got the heck out in the morning. The camp was full from tomorrow through next Tuesday with last-weekend families out for one last huzzah before school began. I restrained my tears and tried not to look too pathetically grateful as I handed over the cash. I was assigned to a site down away from the already full row of RV’s and tents in the upper level. I was happy with that because there was only one camper down below and up here there were multitudes with loud country music blaring. I’ll take peace and quiet with fewer neighbors any day.

Before I found the campground, I had programmed the address into Charmagne (who had kept her tone of voice distinctly civil today in spite of my frequent ignoring of her advice) and got back onto the proper street to lead me just a wee bit out of town. As I neared what I assumed would bring me a big sign saying “Cascadia Campgrounds,” Charmagne piped up and declared I had arrived at my destination. Well, heck, I was still in the middle of a road with no sign in sight indicating where the campground could be. I saw just down the road a little mom n’ pop grocery store and I pulled in there to ask for directions. I asked the man if he could tell me where the campgrounds were because my GPS unit had told me it was right back there in the middle of the road. The nice man laughed and said that I wasn’t alone - there apparently was a constant stream of people coming in, all claiming their GPS unit was drunk or had vertigo or something was wrong. Oh, goodie, I thought. If Charmagne is as mentally defective as she appears to be, then at least she’s not alone. The man gave me the rest of the directions and off I went to check in.

My site was by the lake (I presume THE lake) and under a tree. I successfully backed in with only a couple of attempts (I’m getting better!) and hooked up the water and electricity. I then fed and watered the kitties, tidied up the stray items that were apparently left out and rolled around, and let the cats out on their leashes and harnesses. They couldn’t go out last night in the parking lot because it was dangerous and they both would have been scared silly. But here the sun was shining though we were parked under a large shady tree and the wind was lightly blowing through the grass. Beautiful! Chopper, being a formerly in-and-outdoor cat, immediately went out to explore and just sat in the sun for several minutes, enjoying the moment. It’s been a while since she could do that.

Fluffbutt, on the other hand, made a beeline towards the van and hid behind the rear tire. I had looped their extended leashes around the picnic table close by and she had reached the end of the leash under there. She stayed in that area for a bit, slowly peeking her little white nose around the corner and sniffing the air like a dog. I left her sniffing and peeking for a bit and walked over to say hi to my only neighbors.

I introduced myself to Ruth and Mark and their two sons, Levi and Zac, who had got there that morning and were staying through Tuesday. Both Levi and Zac were in wheelchairs, both appearing to have cerebal palsy. Zac had more control over his body and could crawl to his wheelchair and get in himself. He waved happily at me and said howdy. Levi, on the other hand, was severely physically challenged with the condition. Although there was nothing wrong with his smarts, he was held captive by his body and could only make distorted sounds and jerky, uncontrolled movements. It was obvious, however, that in spite of his challenges he was your basic teenager and wore his hair in wildly unkempt dreadlocks and the latest in what passes for fashion in that age group. Zac’s hair was much shorter but his clothingwas similar in nature and both he and Levi looked just like what they were: Happy young men who liked to laugh and clearly enjoyed camping by the side of the lake.

We all chatted for a bit and Mark said he’d keep Daisy, his beautiful, goofily affectionate golden lab on a leash since she was a confirmed cat hater. I told him the kitties would be going back inside in a bit and then if he wanted to let her go, feel free. I then asked him if he had seen the folks who had been in my spot prior to me because it looked like large herd of small dogs came stampeding through and offloaded every place they could. The area was a virtual minefield of poo and I stepped very carefully around the van when I went out to hook up the utilities. Mark replied that it wasn’t small dogs, those were goose droppings. Lots of goose droppings. Although there weren’t any in sight at the moment, there was apparently a flock of geese who spent time there and had made it kinda tough to get around safely. I immediately thought of my sister, Laureen’s, ordeal when she had to march through goose droppings in Officer Candidate School. So much for having a spit-shine on your shoes!

I wished a wonderful time and a good night to all and returned to my little camper. Time for dinner, a little reading, and beginning of tonight’s blog. With the heating pad on under my back and the laptop perched on my belly, I sit in a relaxed and soothing atmosphere with a little light classical music in the background and some icy water at hand. What more could I ask for?

I’ve added a section called Observations in addition to Lessons Learned. It seems appropriate.

Lessons Learned:

That the sound of rain on the camper roof is nice.

That it’s good to have a furnace that runs off of 12V.

But electricity is better.

That I should never have bought blankets that snag.

That Chopper requires untangling even as I write.

That I need to find a local charity drop-off so I can get rid of these ‘gently snagged’ blankies.

That I see yet another trip to Walmart in my future.

After I find Goodwill.

That I found a tiny screw on the floor and I can’t figure out where it fell from and it’s driving me as buggy as the unknown item that is still rollicking around in the cabinet.

That the sink no longer leaks leaving me wondering where the water came from which is driving me even buggier.

That my windshield wipers flap in the wind.

That I have no windshield wiper fluid.

That I need to go get some and soon.

That seeing out of my front windows in rain is a little tough with flapping wipers.

That this adds to the ‘interesting’ factor of driving into the wind.

That I can do without any more ‘interesting’ factors right now.

That my radio speakers are in the rear of the van.

That I can’t hear them very well when I’m driving.

That there is no place to plug in a headphone except in the rear.

That perhaps I’d better get a long extension to my headphone wires.

That my portable radio/DVD player has a headphone jack.

That the sound won’t come on when the headphones are plugged in.

That I can’t hear it playing aloud much better even though it’s sitting right beside me in the passenger seat.

That I’m now listening to instrumentals played low (and still coming from the rear) that give me a little background music because they’re the only music I can hear that doesn’t require me to understand what they are saying.

That I’m going to have to regroup and rethink this whole playing music thing while I’m on the road.

Goose poop.

Obervations:

A teensy, tiny elderly lady working in a Burger King where I stopped to pee told me she liked my shirt. I’m wearing a Monty Python design of the armless, legless knight yelling that it’s only a flesh wound.

I caught only part of a story on NPR this morning in which they were discussing a herd of goats that had been trained to dance together to a Scottish jig. The goats were so good that they were being compared to the Rockettes. Where is this happening and when because seeing this has just gone on my ’see before I die’ list.

Eastern Washington doesn’t look anything like the northern peninsula. Where there are forests and beaches and dampness (when we’re not in a drought, that is), here there are long, sloping hills that resemble something out of the four corners territory of Utah, Arizona, Colorado and New Mexico, only without the red rock. More like a subtle variation in browns, grays and greens with scrub brush and grasses thrown in for good measure. In fact, I drove by the Ginko Petrified Forest, something else that can be found in the four corners area. The petrified forest, not the ginko. Very cool. I stopped at one of those ‘scenic view’ pull offs and grabbed my camera. There were brownish-grayish canyons overlooking a beautiful lake with a gorgeous blue sky overhead. Fantastic!

And then I looked up on the hillside and there was a herd of horses galloping across the hilltop. Or I thought they were galloping. Actually, they were this life size metal sculpture that I’d heard about but had never seen and they were beautiful!! I snapped a couple of pictures but in the sunlight I couldn’t see if they turned out ok. If so, they’ll be posted. If not, maybe I can find an internet photo I could swipe and post here. We shall see.

I couldn’t remember the name of this installation so I asked a couple standing near me if they knew and the man said he thought it was “Advantages.” Odd name for a bunch of metal horses so I think I’ll look it up. I don’t remember the name of the artist either (I’m doing really great here for someone who has taken several art history classes) so I guess I’ll look that up, too.

A car passed me on 405 with “got cornbread?’ scrawled on the rear window.

I saw several cows in a meadow on my right today, lying down and chewing their cud. Over many years I’ve heard the meaning of my name, “Lea,” given as “weary,” “wild cow (feral cows?”, and “a meadow.” That means that today I saw a bunch of lea leas in a lea.

Tomorrow I will most definitely make it to Coeur d’Alene where I was confounded to discover that I could switch tonight’s reservation at the Wolf Lodge Campground to then. I guess because Le Van Gogh is such a little guy that he can squeeze into more spots. Otherwise, I’d be screwed looking for any open site at the beginning of a long weekend. The next night might very well be another Walmart parking lot, but at least I’ll have had a hot shower two nights in a row!

And on that note, the hot shower has done its job and it’s time for beddy. Until tomorrow, adieu. And may you all have wonderful, hot showers!

Day 1 - Underway

Earthship Le Van Gogh Diary






09.02.09
0500
Conditions: 59.6° F; Humidity: 98%; Wind: Easterly, Calm; Visibility: 10 miles
Mooring: KOA Port Angeles, WA
Captain Lea reporting.

All systems checked, supplies secured for sea (mostly), ship’s crew has been fed and are manning their underway positions. So, OK, they're not that big of a help, especially as First Mate and Navigator, but at least they're in position. The Bendy Men are still asleep, the lazy dogs.

If you think I’m posting a picture of me before I’ve finished my coffee, you’re going to be waiting a long time. I’m not that sleepy.

Ok, enough of that Navy talk.

I think I completed everything I wanted to before I left. I didn’t get to see everyone that I wanted to but that’s OK. I’ll keep in touch with the blog and I’m not really saying good by anyway. Until we meet again is more like it and we‘ll continue to chat via the blog, email, etc.

First destination today is a Wal-Mart in the general vicinity of Seattle. It won’t take too long to get there, about 2 ½ hours with a ferry ride on the route. At this time of day I’ll be heading into rush hour, but I’m going to take my time and maybe the worst will be out of the way before I finally head out. Perhaps. Since I don’t know how many hours I can tolerate driving, I made my first stop a very modest distance. Still, anyone who has driven in rush hour traffic in any large city knows that by the time you get to your destination, you’re ready to take a nap. I’ll be ready, I know that. Besides, I want time to do a walkabout, take pictures, chat with people, etc, and even give the kitties a walk (drag) on their leashes and harnesses. This is why I’m taking a month to get to Georgia. That and if the leaves are starting to change their colors up here, maybe by the time I get there the leaves will be starting to change in the northern neck of the woods of Blairsville.

The past few days have been a huge learning curve for me. I spent three nights in the back of my sister, Denise, and brother-in-law, Gene’s, house (thank you, thank you!!) and there I learned how to work the various systems in the van. I also got to figure out which items were still not secured for sea and would topple down during the first curve. In fact, there have been so many things to learn that I’ve made a list and I’ll add to it every day I post. This first post will have many, believe me, and it won't be complete. But in theory the list concerning the van will grow shorter and lessons of life will begin to dominate. That’s my hope, at any rate.

Lessons Learned:

That I need to buy an RV repair manual for very, very minor repairs. A mechanic I’m not.

That I’m in totally in love with my lumbar support. It gives off heat and massages me while I drive.

That Fluffbutt and Chopper need a whole lot of attention right now.

That if I am careful I have three days worth of water in my fresh water tank.

That I have all the water I need but not all that I want.

That Miss Charmagne GPS Unit doesn’t always know what she’s talking about.

That draining the black water tank is as much fun as I was led to believe.

That if I lay down to rest in any position, side, back or tummy, Chopper and Fluffbutt compete to see who can perch on top of me first.

That Fluffbutt weighs a ton.

That I‘m always forgetting to make sure everything is secure before I drive off.

That there’s something in one of the cabinets rattling around and I can’t figure out what it is and it‘s driving me buggy.

That when it’s time to go beddy bye I can set the furnace temperature to keep Chopper and I cozy in the back of the van while Fluffbutt stays cool in the front.

That it took me 15 minutes of investigation of a possible water drip before I figured out that it was the ticking of my windup alarm clock.

That I really suck at backing up a van.

That I should always request a pull-through space in an RV campground.

That Fluffbutt’s night vision makes her as good as a dog in letting me know there’s something moving outside.

That Fluffbutt doesn’t bark so unless I see her react I still have no idea that there‘s something out there.

That there’s nothing out there. Fluffbutt reacts to a leaf falling.

That I need to remember to duck when I climb in the side door.

That’s there’s a minor water leak under the sink but I can’t figure out where it’s leaking from and this is also driving me buggy.

That when I’m too tired to make French press coffee, Folger’s coffee bags with extremely hot water is better than nothing.

Not much better, mind you, but a little better.

That I devoutly hope my new license plate arrives today in Denise and Gene’s mail.

That they arrive not too long after I depart so Denise can forward them to Sharon’s.

That no matter how long a list I make there is always something else to add to it.

That I will forget to do something on the list even though it’s sitting on the console right beside me where I can see it.

That eventually I will remember to do it even though it might be a little late in getting done.

That sometimes it’s not a bad thing to have an anal retentive, OCD, picayunish, methodical, organized and list-making personality.

That my refrigerator keeps things nice and frozen when I'm plugged in electrically but doesn’t work very well at all when switched to 12V.

That I need to buy some ice.

That claustrophobia has no business going along on any trip in this van and has been booted out unceremoniously.

And finally:

That a wonderful sense of adventure, willingness to embrace the day and all it brings and a well developed sense of humor are crucial to making my trip as fantastic as I plan on it to be.

Until later…

Make All Preparations For Getting Underway

I'm down to the final week of moving stuff into my van. Exhaustion and chaos reigns. The cats are morbidly confused, stuff is tossed hither and thither and I'm having a ball!

I had to accept yesterday that I wouldn't be able to take my bicycle. It's so heavy that I can't lift it up on the rack by myself. Not good. I've decided to keep it in storage and just walk wherever I go. Such is life.

The movers come on Thursday and all stuff I'm taking will have already been tucked in the van, including the cats, of course. Once all of my stuff is out of the apartment, I'll be staying at the apartment for another two days but outside in my van with a long electrical cord plugging me in. Hey, I'm paid up until the end of the month so I'm using electricity as long as I can! On the 30th I'll be moving to my sister and her husband's driveway and hook up for one night. And then I get a two-night free stay at the KOA between Port Angeles and Sequim so I can get used to staying in RV parks.

September 2nd I depart Port Angeles and begin my journey. First destination: Blairsville, Georgia. A large group of friends are gathering there and I want to be with them before we scatter to the four winds. I'll be seeing them again as I traverse the country but it's always nice to have them all in one place for a bit.

I'm trying to figure out a budget for my journey but since I only have averages to work with it's kinda difficult. Gas, hook up fees, propane refills, etc...These will be changing wherever I go so the best I can come up with is to get an average of the costs country-wide and go with it. But since budgets are always a work in progress, change will likewise always be a part of them. That's ok, I'm nothing if not flexible. :-D

Anyway, this last week is winding up last details to be taken care of before I leave, so not much going on there to post. My next post will be at the end of the first day of my journey and will be from a Walmart parking lot, home for all boondocking freeloading RV'ers everywhere. This will be 'dry camping,' or without electricity. I'll have water and propane operated by the 12 volt battery of my little van. I don't have a generator but that's ok. I want to save up for a solar powered installation and in the meantime I'll learn how to conserve. Yay!

Until September 2nd, yeehaw! to you.