A Guy Walks into a Bar...

Funny story...  Tuesday began like any other day, just like the hundreds of, "A guy walks into a bar..." jokes begin.  Some days are funny, just like some "A guy walks into a bar..." jokes are funny.  And then some days just bomb, just like "A guy walks into a bar..." jokes bomb.


We awoke to the news that the High Park Fire had grown overnight and that our direct route to our campground, 100 miles away, was still closed.  I was unable to find out information directly related to our predicament from any local sources.  I can see how people involved in an emergency disaster can get easily frustrated due to a lack of information they are seeking because  phone numbers are either busy, aren't being answered, or can't be found that would help.

What a difference a day makes.  Sunset last night (above) and the winds shifts to bring us smoke filled skies (below).

After going to the source of our destination, KOA in Gould, CO, they informed us that we if we wanted to come in the "backdoor," by going up into Wyoming and back down into Colorado, that they were accessible by the other end of the road that was closed, but open to local traffic, which meant them.  Please don't check that sentence for being grammatically or mechanically correct!  The extra 100 miles it would take seemed like no big deal.  This is where the Guy Walks into a Bar...


We made the decision to take them up on their suggestion to use the "backdoor."  We closed the doghouse up, loaded up the dogs, and away we went.  North to Wyoming, then west a ways, then south for a bit, followed by a turn to the east, and in the "backdoor."  We got as far as heading north to Wyoming and about 20 miles short of the border, it felt like I rolled over a big marshmallow on the right side of the trailer.  At the same time, Miki made a comment that she heard something.  I looked out the right side mirror in time to say goodbye to one of our trailer tires, as it shredded and decorated the highway for others to enjoy.  This would be the punch line of the A guy walks into a bar joke.


After 30 years with Miki, my reaction was calm.  I quickly steered us over to the shoulder and hoped that when we got out and looked, we would have found it was someone else's tire that disintegrated in my side mirror.  Darn the luck, it was our tire after all.  

Most of the damage was to the tire of course and the metal skirt that got bent up and the plastic trim above the tires that is somewhere on the road behind us.

The week prior to us leaving on this trip (and I use the word trip loosely), we enrolled in an RV Roadside Assistance Program.  Well, we were alongside the road and we needed assistance, so we enrolled their services to come and change the tire for us.  Unlike a car, the trailer did not come with tire changing supplies other than a full spare.


About 30 minutes later, we met James.  James pulls up in an unmarked late 90's Plymouth minivan.  My expectations were a bit higher for the service vehicle that would rescue us.  Something that reflects strength and professionalism, like a truck with decals all over it, advertising all the cool tools it carries or something.  The minivan full of milk crates that were full of parts and tools didn't do it for me.  James was in the 65ish range of his life and appeared to lead a laid back life.  He had a little scruffy and rough around the edges look that was working for him.  He was also accompanied by his belly he had apparently groomed to help pad his forays underneath broken down trailers that need his assistance.

Meet James and his whitey-tighties.  Not shown are his "work" Crocs.

Although not real talkative (not unlike myself), James got to work and jacked up the trailer in a calm and timely manner.  My initial judgement of James wasn't seemingly wanting to change when he started looking for our spare tire, that was right next to him the whole time he had crawled in and out from under the trailer 3 or 4 times, as he was getting his tools.

James was successful in his efforts and we were appreciative for his help, having never changed a tire on a 14,000 lb. vehicle before, he was the teacher and I the student.  A little paperwork and gratitude exchanged, we were back on the road!  The question in my mind now was, did anything happen to the under workings of the trailer that would prohibit it from working properly.  In other words, if we slid out the living room slideout, would it slide back in.  That was the slippery slope question that determined our trip's destiny.  I really didn't want to have to purchase a "Wide Load" sign and higher chase vehicles with yellow flashing lights to follow us home if it got stuck in the out position.  I observed some bent pieces of metal where the tire exploded and had my doubts.  Miki thought we could have taken it to a local RV dealer and have it examined, but I went with the drive 700 miles back home to our home dealership to have it diagnosed.  After 30 years with this woman, I should do more of what she suggests, hindsight being 20/20.  But I get weird in certain situations and we headed the car east on I-80.  So now we are pedal to the metal after a wildfire and blowout seem to be pushing us back home.


At this point Miki is keeping a glass half full attitude whereas I tend to wallow in angry mud.  Miki is grateful that we are all safe and that ultimately everything is okay.  Me on the other hand, just wasted $600 on a day-trip to the rockies and back.  No great picture opportunities, no hiking in thin air, and above all, no fishing for my little trout buddies.  Just 1400 miles and lots of diesel smell on my hands.  Since my glass was half empty, it just makes sense that it kept getting emptier.  Like we seemed to be always driving into the wind (to and from Colorado).  It was like pulling a large sailboat with it's sails up.  Like getting a burger to go and finding out that my dog's nose was warmer than the meat (or whatever that lukewarm substance was between the buns...pink slime is it?).  Then there was the time I wanted to put some air into one of the tires at a gas station and it seemed to be sucking the air out!  REALLY?  I could go on.


After about 500 miles, I was coming to peace with the day and my glass started filling up again.  Miki had been reading to me a book about Tiger Woods by one of his former swing coaches, as we drove.  My life seems pretty much okay compared to his and Miki's "up-ness" was starting to creep into my angry mud pit.  We pulled into our driveway about 1:00 A.M. Wednesday morning, parked the beast in one try, trying not to wake out neighbors (right!), and went to bed.


If it was adventure we wanted after retiring, adventure is what we are getting.  Adventure comes in many forms I am finding out.  And adventure doesn't have to be all bad.


My Zen from the road:  I am thinking this trip was all about judging and expectations.  I expected the trip to be a fantasy respite in the mountains with slow motion frolicking in wildflower meadows.  Pulling fish from babbling brooks that wanted to be on my line.  I thought Superman would fix our flat, but we met James instead.  James was a nice older guy, just doing his job and he seemed to like it and knew what he was doing.  He wasn't a talker and that had nothing to do with his ability to get us back on the road.  And the fact that he didn't seem to notice that his underwear reflected light up under the belly of the RV so he could see better, was an added bonus.  At least his underwear was light in color enough to reflect light!  Maybe next time adventure takes this form, I can can get closer to Miki's take on the moment and steer clear of my wallowing pit.


Okay...here is what you have been waiting for...
Guy walks into a bar and sits at a table. Tells the waitress, "I'll have a Bloody Mary and a menu." When she returns with his drink, he asks "Still servin' breakfast?" When she says Yes, he replies, "Then I'll have two eggs-runny on top and burnt on the bottom, five strips of bacon ON ONE END-well done and still raw on the other, two pieces of burnt toast and a cold cup of coffee." Indignantly the waitress says, "We don't serve that kinda stuff in here!" Guy says, "Funny... that's what I had in here yesterday..."

Hurry Up and Wait

4:00 A.M.  The alarm goes off, but we'd been awake for a while due to the lightning and thunder that preceded it.  The final push to head for the rockies began.  Loading the refrigerator items between downpours and coaxing Tooga to give up his bed of safety between lightning strikes wasn't on the check off list, but they were added and checked off as we hit the road at 6:00 A.M.


Even though leaving town was a wet blur, the traffic cooperated, 

the dogs cooperated,

and Miki cooperated by preparing for her turn to take the wheel.  

There is a popular country song called Jesus Take the Wheel.  Well... I said the same thing to Miki when my eyes got heavy and we almost became permanent residents of Salina, but my emphasis on the wording was different than the real song.  Okay I exaggerated a bit, it was near Hays.


The trip across Kansas and into Colorado, this time out, was a trip of discovery.  We discovered fresh cut, golden wheat fields in contrast to the deep blue sky, surrounded by rich green hedgerows made me think twice about breaking my previous speed record across the state.  It was actually quite beautiful to see even though the photo does not do it justice.

We also discovered where wind comes from.  Right there in plain sight,  just west of Salina, there were dozens and dozens of windmills blowing warm air from the south towards the north.  Wow, that opens up a whole bunch of questions I have about the seasons.

Even though we did not have those wind machines blowing right at us across Kansas, we discovered that head winds can cause what seems like negative mileage.  The harder I pressed on the gas pedal, the slower we seemed to go.  Once we escaped the terrible wind makers it was smooth sailing to Longmont, CO and our campground.  Short on trees, but long on pretty.

Oh, there is something I've not mentioned yet.  A WILDFIRE is procluding us from heading to our destination in the mountains.  The High Park Wildfire, started by a lightning strike last Saturday, has Hwy. 14 (the only road east/west from Ft. Collins that goes to our destination) shutdown at the moment.  It is the northern boundary of the fire area, but from what I can tell, it is not where the action is.  So we wait and look at our options as the sun sets and the smoke provides spectacular colors.

My Zen from the road:  At the moment, this blogdog is a bit discouraged due to the literal road block in our way at this time.  But the whole, "when life gives you lemons..." thing... well it needs some adjustment.  I am changing it to, "when life gives you a wildfire, have a BBQ!"  So we are off to discover where the BBQ will be.

A Salmon is Called Home

It's time.  The Rockies are calling, the cool weather is calling, and above all else... those little mountain stream trout are talking to me in my sleep saying, "Wallie, come play with us.
We might even let you catch us if you are a good boy."  When trout call you by name, 
it's time.


Last fall when we put the doghouse to bed, we had been dealing with a small, but annoying little drip in the "basement."  After a few attempts at getting it repaired, we were hoping that the the third time was the charm.  We brought it home from the dealership and put it to bed without checking it ourselves.


Last fall was also the first time we prepared the doghouse for the winter.  Making sure all the water lines were emptied out and some antifreeze type stuff was added to certain places... hopefully the right places!  The cover was secured over the beast for a long winters rest and I just knew as a rookie RV parent, I would make mistakes.


As winter went on with it's business, we went on with ours.  Every time we pulled into the driveway or I walked into the backyard, my attention was drawn to it... it is kind of hard to miss if you know what I mean.  Is the leak fixed and are there others forming with the freezing and thawing of winter?  If I didn't know better, I'd say paranoia was a characteristic of this blogger...but I know better!


Spring arrived along with the itch to head for the mountains.  Even though we will be home for much of the summer before traveling in the fall, a trip for the trout started forming.  A week before heading upstream (sorry), we pulled the doghouse out from its resting place to gear up and inspect any short comings we may find.  First and foremost we needed to know we had a water tight vessel.  We pulled it out to Blue Springs Campground, hooked it up, and waited.  (This would be a really good place to stop this posting and finish another time...)


We ran the air conditioners, started the generator, and crawled into the belly of the beast.  I pulled off the panel that hid the source of our discontent last fall and there it was...a dry fitting that once was wet.  A dry floor, that once was wet.  A dry eye that many times teared up from frustration, now had a twinkle in it.  All was right with the doghouse.

Back home in the driveway preparation begins for taking it on the road.  The food, clothes, and misc. stuff go back in that were taken out back in October.  The fridge begins cooling and the dogs begin wondering.

Tuck has to sleep on his bed without it's cover as it is being washed for the trip...he knows something is afoot.

Anxious Tooga, ignores the multiple trips Miki and I are making out to the RV and goes to his special place as he stares out into the park, knowing he will be involved somehow.

As we shop for the last few essentials (that I forgot to buy yesterday) and double check the RV checklist (that I can't find), we'll soon be on the road with the doghouse in tow, as this fisherman (and I use that term so, so loosely) heads for home.  Like a salmon heading home to spawn (too much? sorry).  


My Zen from home:  I could say that those little trout from my dreams will learn to fear me, but I don't want to come across as a fish bully.  What I am really doing is psyching up my confidence, so I may feel like I know what I am doing while staring at what seems to be an endless menu of flies I will try to present to my trout friends for a quick snack.  Without confidence, I may as well join Tooga on the floor in his special place as he awaits whatever is around the corner.  So be confident in what you attempt.