A Glimmer of Hope

It was too good to be true.  Here at Hope Road Junction, where we parked in a fairly level, open spot out of sight of the highway, yet close to a nice bathroom and several trails which would have been nicer to explore if it wasn’t raining, there was nary a soul to be seen.  Until just now, when I started this, my second post of the day.  Two lumbering behemoths intruded upon our wooded view, and instead of doing as I willed them to do, which was to go away, they appear to be taking up residence … they would not engage the auto-leveling devices on their plastic road palaces unless they intended to remain in our view.  Will the relative silence now be sullied by generators?

Maybe I’m still a little miffed by the very recent failure of Penelope to climb the Turnagain Pass without overheating or spending too much time in second gear.  Yes, we did have to pull over, and I spent a good amount of time in the warmth of the engine room, glowering at the big blue thorn in my side that has successfully albeit reluctantly propelled us at least 3100 miles in the last month.

Yes, it’s been a month … a month and a day, in fact, since we departed our Happy Camp property.  Except for the constant duck mess, it’s been great to be on the road for so long, and it gives us a taste of what it will be like later on, when we decide to hit the road for real, with no specific destination, no schedule, and no goals, except to fulfill our urges to be anywhere but where we are at the time.

We’ve had more than one modern RVer mention to us that they thought we were “having a little trouble” back there on those hills…did they think we were sad that we had not the power that they did?  Well, they can have it, although we will, too, one day.  But we have style, and they don’t. (I know…it’s an eye of the beholder thing – forgive me, I’m a snob) Of course, they have showers, washers and dryers, auto-leveling devices, furnaces, AC, Dachshunds, entertainment systems, and all the comforts of home (and more, generally…)

We will take steps to set up Penelope for greater comfort and speed, (and efficiency!!!) but I will take great pains to avoid detracting from her present allure.  I will do things to enhance her maneuverability, as we hope to take her places most motorhomes would not dare to go.  Yesterday, when getting into the place where we camped, the turn was extremely sharp, and I had to blast up onto the side edge of the sand/dirt track, run over a few saplings, and clamber up the narrow little road and over a steep little gravel lip onto the parking area.  This was great fun – felt just like “backroadbussing.”  The Toyota was not so much a problem then as it was able to be forced backwards as I jockeyed the bus into a good position…the gravel offered little resistance to the jackknifed toad.  Earlier yesterday, this was not the case.

We were looking for a rest stop with bathrooms, and a bit of level ground so that I could check all Penelope’s vital fluids with some accuracy, and we passed several that were obviously not meant for larger vehicles.  One, however, looked inviting, as it was not only on the top of a hill as opposed to the bottom (accelerating Penelope uphill is akin to watching the second hand in second grade, 32 minutes before lunch, or waiting for the queue at the busy fuel station restroom, and it had been a while…) but there were two RV’s visible along the edge of the upper area which was up a short steep drive to … you guessed it … a small, narrow lot, with almost exactly the amount of space required for me to get Penelope and her little red, greasy follower situated perfectly perpendicular across the path of any and all who may want to enter or exit this wonderful little spot.

How embarassing!  Attempts to have Michele steer the Toyota ended up being in vain, and there was naught for it but to disengage the Toyota’s hitch, and reposition both vehicles separately.  For those of you who have not done it, or may not know, when flat-towing another vehicle, or using a tow dolly, using reverse is a BAD IDEA!  Although it can be done in a straight line, or for very short movements, it is really not considered a “doable” thing.  It puts tremendous pressure on the hitch points on both vehicles, the towing apparatus, and makes real neat black marks on pavement, while stressing out the motive system of the towing vehicle, as well as the steering and suspension of the towed (toad).

But I did it anyway, because I was in a jam.  In order to get out of it, I had to disconnect, which was difficult, given that there was so much tension on the system.  To relieve this tension, I would have to re-connect the Toyota’s drive-shaft, which is not that big of a deal, except for the fact that there would surely be more onlookers who might be miffed at not being able to drive to the bathrooms.  More witnesses?  Not my idea of a good time.

Luckily, a nice man from Vancouver came over to help us out, and did so in a manner that made me feel not so alone in my idiocy.  He helped us disconnect the ‘Yota and push it out of the way, then reconnect it once I had Penelope re-situated.  It’s nice to have people like that in the world.  I hope I am one.  I know I do try to help where I can, but I’m not so sure I’m adept enough at making people in bad situations feel comfortable.

He asked the standard questions about Penelope, which usually begin with “What year is it?”  The other questions have to do with the make, the engine, the fuel economy, how and when it was made into a motorhome, how long we had it, how much time/money it took to restore, where we come from, where we are going, and why, whether those are real ducks or not, and why do we have them, whether it is OK for the bus to be rolling away with no-one at the wheel, and do we know anyone named Jack?

Life in a fish bowl.  That’s what we’ve termed this part of the experience.  Oh, and yes, I made that question up…the one about the rolling away bit.  That has not happened.  Back to the fish bowl.  When we are parked, having lunch, discussing routes, or mechanical issues, or getting up in the morning … anywhere there are people, there is interest.  Usually.  Of course there is!  What a strange thing to see being driven around!  We’ve gotten used to it, and we find that we do meet a lot of interesting characters by luring them in with our strange choice of a vehicle.  Then we absorb their stories and their friendly energy, and send them away bemused, or at least confused.  Hopefully they have strange thoughts the rest of the day.

I started this post to try to jog my memory about the things I wanted to relate.  I didn’t mean to talk about modern RV’s, and how they are seemingly infesting the highways of the north.  They are everywhere in the spring and summer, no?  I didn’t mean to talk about moose droppings either.  We saw on our walk just now that they resemble nothing so much as chocolate easter eggs…you know the kind…the little ones wrapped individually in colored foil?  These have no foil, and I doubt they taste as good.

I also wanted to post a few more photos, which I’ll get to now, before we lapse into sleep.

The RV’ers are quiet and are really not a problem.

Did you know that ducks drool?  Slobber, really.  Pleasant.

We’ve decided to play it fairly loosely with the HEA and the electrickery situation.  If we don’t get it, big deal, right?  What’s a few more days?  That’s why we are still not on the road right now, making for Kenai.

The result of my thinking back there just shy of cresting the Turnagain Pass was that I topped up the radiator with Marvel Mystery Oil.  I wonder why that seemed to actually work?  We’ll see….

Gene

Oh, and my wonderful map-less Navigon GPS STILL indicates that we are headed toward Cotton Valley.  It is now to the south, whereas before it was to the north!  I wonder… is this some kind of Shangri-La?