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.