Now What?

After cleaning up in the morning after laying around as long as possible (parts of this does not pertain to Miki by the way), one of us squeegies the shower followed by food.  Miki drew the squeegee straw while I started our traditional Sunday breakfast, put off one day just because we can.  I must say Miki is a better squeegee artist than myself, butt she didn’t want some of her assets shared.  

The black spot is  not dirt!

The Snoqualmie pancake mix became a staple for us a few years ago and now we dump blueberries into the mix to form these plate-sized cakes that are AWESOME!

An artist at work.

The ART!

Now it is late morning and we are finally heading out to see what the park has to offer.  We found Two Ocean Lake (and it was big, but not that big) hoping to spot the mother moose and her twins, referred by our comedian ranger from last evening.  No sightings made and we went on our way.  Hopeful of finding a fishing spot on Pacific Creek, we followed a gravel road for miles, only to find the gravel bars of a braided stream that showed no visible signs.

Pushing on, we tried another called Pilgram Creek.  It had a trail at the end that we were checking out for possible dog forays into a national forest.  It also had a similar braided stream that served as our lunch spot.  We placed out camp chairs next to a branch of the stream that was just not quite wide enough to jump across.  A sandwich, carrot sticks, almonds, and grapes were chased down by a few of Lays finest original potato chips…mmmm.  After getting up to check out a few possible fish hangouts, a large, dark, furry, mass caught my attention about 100 yards down stream.  It was lumbering along as if on a mission.  The bear was dark like a black bear, but with the sun highlighting its fur, it had a reddish appearance like a grizzly.  We were excited to see it, excited it was heading away from us, and excited to get back in the truck and head back to get the dogs for a walk.

We gathered the boys from their nap and went back to Pilgram Creek where we had just come from, assuming the bear was long gone.  No cliffhanger here, the bear was long gone…as far as we knew.  Minutes into our hike with the boys, Tooga showed signs that he may be revisiting a “bug” he gets when he eats something he shouldn’t, one such episode has its anniversary coming up soon that happened in North Carolina that involved a wall of stench that greeted us at the door of the doghouse upon returning home late one night.  Not wanting to wish that on us again, Miki immediately wanted to get some antibiotics in him to turn the tide before it got a head of steam.  At this moment he seems to be holding his own after talking to a vet in Jackson Hole who eased our minds about how he was doing and things to look for.  We may or may not take him in to town tomorrow, depending on what happens or not between now and then.  So far…so great!

After some cribbage and dinner, we headed down to a rocky beach on Jackson Lake for sunset.  We hung out taking pictures until the sun slipped behind the mountains.  

Sounds peaceful, restful, all the adjectives that you might use for the setting we are in, but this afternoon, across from us, set up a huge RV (class A) that came with a poodle.  After the owners headed out with friends in another huge-ish RV, said dog commenced a steady barrage of barks that continue as I write.  One “concerned camper” left a note on their door to make sure they were made aware of how much their puppy had missed them.

Miki triumphs again!

Well, it is time for our ranger campfire program.  We hope this finds you all safe, healthy, and happy, cause that is what we are feeling too.

My Zen from the Road:  You know how when you see something, it is just right?  Some people say when they met it was love at first sight.  Some say it just feels right.  In some cases, it was meant to be.  This Zen moment comes to you from my gut.  All of the above are what I felt when I saw these at the grocery store before we left Lander.  I had one yesterday after setting up the doghouse as a reward.  It felt right and must have been meant to be!  Don’t ignore what some call your intuition, I say gut.

My gut says it is meant to be.

Bonus Pic...

Our campsite among the pines at Colter Bay Village.

A New Day

When is sleeping in ever a bad thing? (rhetorical!)  That is how we started off a new day at the Sleeping Bear RV Park.  I guess I should clarify.  Miki got up and walked the dogs and I laid in bed hovering on the edge of trying to sleep in.  It has now been over 24 hours without a blowout of any kind and I’d say that is a step in the right direction and that direction for us today is north and some west at the end.  Teton National Park (Colter Bay to be specific) here we come.

Before leaving Lander, we took the morning to explore Sinks Canyon State Park, a few miles out of town, where the Middle fork of the Popo Agie River (pronunciation clue…you’ll never ever guess it!  Google it) drains this cute, granite bluff lined canyon.  Near the top of the canyon, before the road switch backed up and over the mountain, we walked the dogs along the Popo (azhie).  This was our first physical exertion at altitude and we did good.  The dogs did even better, but they are dog-tired tonight (pun intended).

Heading up the Middle Fork of the Popo Agie River to a falls to view...
never got to the falls, the road was a callin'.

A family photo.

But before leaving the canyon we discovered the reason for the name of the canyon.  The river disappears down into a cavern that has never been able to be explored for some reason, only to reappear a quarter mile down stream.  Plus there is more water coming out of “the rise” than went down the “sink.”  Through dye tests they know it is the same water that disappeared up stream, but not sure where the extra water is coming from.  Plus they have an observation deck over looking the “rise” where the trout are protected, so they are monster browns.  The fact there is a fish feeding machine (you know, 10 pellets for a quarter) at the head of the trail doesn’t hurt their monster diet either.

The water heading downstream into the mouth of the "sinks."

The entrance to the "sinks."

The troll that guards the entrance to the abyss.

The "rise" (middle left) and indistinguishable monster trout in the shadow of the
tourist on the viewing platform throwing fish food to gaping mouths below.

We have become very proficient (knock on wood) at setting up and packing up the doghouse it seems.  Quite a stretch from the first few times we stumbled through it making sure we didn’t drive off with the sewer hose still connected or the TV antennae being broken off by a low hanging branch by chance we had forgotten to lower it to it’s travel position.  Don’t want to get too confident if you know what I mean…and I think you do.

This leg of the journey became more pleasing to the eye for this kind of “High Plains Drifter” scenery.  The mountains appeared and the sagebrush was replaced by pines.  Many of the mountain slopes varied in color as we went from mint greens to soft brick reds in sloping layers, like a tilted layer cake.  There are even a few patches of snow left high on some of the mountain peaks.  The following photos are a sequence of the topography to the Tetons.

"Are we in Kansas?" (No offense Shannon and Megan!)

A third dimension is added to the scenery.

Now some color.

Some interest.

To the trained eye, you can make out The Grand Teton itself in the distance.

The last town of any size before breaking the national park barrier was DuBois.  It appeared to be a higher rent little town that probably thrived on tourism.  After filling the tank we passed a giant jackalope that was begging for Miki to have a moment with.  I was thrilled to record it for history, Miki was thrilled to mount the giant for a photo op, and the two other middle aged ladies that were getting out of their car behind us were thrilled to not be the only ones paying attention to a 9 foot fiberglass rabbit, wearing antlers and a saddle!

Words cannot do this justice...

The only thing left between us and the Grand Tetons was a little time, some roadwork, and the scenery improving the closer we got.  At one point we rounded a bend in the road only to find the Teton Mountains themselves as only they look.  Their distinctive, majestic, iconic shapes in the haze of the midday sun almost took my breath away even though the distance between us was almost mirage like.  But having been here before, I knew that the clear days, sunrises and sunsets to come would replace this first distant image.  The trip was now real and we were almost in position for the next two weeks.  The blowout now seems so long ago.

Not to brag, but as we slowly meandered our way to our campsite, after checking in with the rangers, the doghouse seemed pretty impressive.  Not that size matters, but we got a few longing looks from passers by.  Not the biggest, newest, or most colorful here, its ours and works for us…and the dogs…but most importantly…Miki.

After eating some Miki made homemade soup we got our bearings and headed to our first ranger talk at the local amphitheater.  And thanks to Ranger Amy, we now know as much about moose in the park as anyone may want to.  I am hoping to have a moose photo to share in the near future.  She also mentioned that a week ago a grizzly bear worked its way through our very campground, but then this was minutes after she got the audience to practice making a moose call using some hard to construct hand and finger positions that turned out to be a practical joke on us to look like fools.  Not sure I will ever trust a park ranger again.

Okay, put your hands together, cross your middle fingers, lay down your
pinkies, put your thumbs together and lick them, now you look foolish!
HAHAHA...reluctant applause.

Well, this new day has almost passed and as I must use the wifi at the Laundromat to make this posting, cause I don’t want to hear it from any of you that I am slacking.  That is right, maybe a half a bar on our cell phones, an occasional few seconds on our wifi, and TV…HA!   Hell, we’re CAMPING!

My Zen from the Road:  The disappearing river we explored today at Sinks Canyon State Park reminded me of friends, places, and things in my life that are there for awhile, then disappear, but then are back, with no apparent reason, you are just glad they are…just like the giant trout thriving in the “rise.”

Lightning Can Strike Twice...

I would normally start this posting with an attempt at some humor, but I lost it today at about mile marker 275, just west of Cheyenne, Wyoming on Interstate 80.  Things were going so well.

We woke up to a quiet, cool-ish morning and I felt the need to shoot something.  Then I remembered we were camping next to Cabela's and the urge subsided.  We took our time packing up and heading out for our next leg of the trip to The Tetons.  Miki was on the phone catching up with Ron, an old neighbor of ours, when I felt something in the steering wheel.  A  deja vu moment directed my eyes to the side view mirrors of the truck.  First the passenger side, then the driver's side.  It was then I saw a site I had hoped to not see again this soon (or ever).  The remnants of a shredded trailer tire littering I-80 at almost 70 mph.

This would be the approximate view we had while taking care of business.
Off, way off in the distance, the high plains transitions to the mountains
that would lead us to the Tetons.

Since this part of the world is not that crowded on a Saturday morning, we were able to move off the road relatively quickly and came to a stop safely.  At that moment, I felt my hands grip the steering wheel with some aggression, I took a moment and took a breath, and we exited the vehicle to see the hand that was dealt THIS TIME.  

Without too much consternation, we shifted into gear.  We assessed the damage to the trailer THIS TIME and realized it was similar, but not quite as bad as the FIRST TIME, a.k.a. THE LAST TIME.  After our previous (first) blowout (see post June 13, 2012), my learning curve on handling the situation was nearly vertical and I was like a sponge, observing and learning from our Mr. Good Sam Roadside Assistance man, James.  As soon as we got home, I assembled my own road hazard tools and tricks for the OFF CHANCE we would find ourselves up that creek again.

Miki watched the traffic as parts that would flap in the breeze were removed and the shell of the tire was replaced by our lucky spare.  By this time, it seemed all of Cheyenne was awake and traveling to see us in the form of semi tractor trailers.  One by one they crested the hill to see our hazard lights flashing.  My worst fear at that point was seeing the trailer keel over on its two good tires from the whoosh of the trucks that could not get over in the passing lane soon enough as they passed by us with the look of "better you than me" on their faces.

My Good Sam buddy James did not have the banana shaped "jack" helper
under the first tire seen above.  My internet skills made it possible for me to
add this to my bag of road side assistance tools.

With the pieces of the scene collected and stowed away, we were back on the road within 30 minutes of THIS TIME.  We were impressed with ourselves, but couldn't be too taken with our road savvy prowess because we no longer had a spare and of course I figured we were just minutes away from the NEXT TIME.

We forged on to Laramie, WY and Miki used our phone to track down any tire dealers that might have an RV replacement tire of which they could set their own price.  The first one closed at noon...it was Saturday after all.  She did secure a dealer that would take care of us.  Once we found it in downtown Laramie, Miki took the dogs for a well deserved walk to a nearby park while I placed some duct tape Band-Aids on some small places that needed to be "weather" proofed protected.  By the time the Dr. Wallie was done with his first aid, the new tire was remounted, balanced, and ready to blow, I mean go!

Peerless Tires of Laramie, WY... our hero.

With a bit more confidence in the back of the truck (the new tire), we pushed on to Rawlins, WY where we would fill up on some $4.40 a gallon diesel (that is some nice diesel) and head north to where we will rest our heads in Lander, WY for the night.  As we approached Rawlins, not to be confused with Nawlins (thank you Issac for sharing some of the rain that drenched Nawlins with us, even though we were gone) we saw an approaching storm.  We hightailed it out of town and eventually got out ahead of it with just sprinkles and a lot of wind.  Enough wind that combined with passing semi's going the other direction...the buffeting affect made half the freezer stuff fall out when we opened the door for dinner.  We are both amazed the trailer hangs together.

Approaching storm in Rawlins, WY as we head north to Lander.  From 4 lane
to 2 lane, from relative smooth highway to relatively not byway.

It has been a long time since the two of us have been in this part of the country and as desolate and dry as it appears, it does have beauty.

You can now imagine my thoughts as we head up Hwy 287...it has been more than two hours since the LAST TIME we had a blowout.  And since all I see now on any road surface is the residue left from some other poor saps blowout, the narrowness of 287 lingers and toys with my NEXT TIME.  The good news is that this road was so sparsely traveled while we were on it, we might have been able to change a tire without any witnesses.

We did finally arrive in Lander before dinner time to find our host, the Sleeping Bear RV Park, in such good spirits, I never thought we would make it to our site for the night.  The couple running it were so darn friendly, it took an elderly couple outside getting pissy with each other for them to let me go.  We got set up and went to town looking for supplies and a town river walk only to find another storm approaching with gusting winds and an unfriendly appearance.  We turned around and went home to batten down the hatches.  Only lasting 15-20 minutes, it blew pretty good and rained a bit, then said goodbye with a nice rainbow trailing in its path.

Lander is at the foot of the Wind River Mtns. and has a cute "old" traditional downtown.  We will take another shot at exploration tomorrow, if the Goodyear gods are on our side.

Overlooking downtown, 30 yards from our trailer.

The main drag in downtown Lander.

THIS TIME was better than LAST TIME and I can only hope that NEXT TIME, well...I think I am learning that I can't worry too much about something that hasn't happened yet, but I am pretty good at imagining

My Zen from the Road:  Shit happens.  How you step in it is up to you. You can quickly wipe it off your shoes and hope no one saw you or you can stop to think about the road it took to get to you and appreciate it for what it taught you.  Have a nice walk!
This is actually an adapted version of Miki's Zen from the day...hers was way too positive.

If At First You Have a Blow Out, Try, Try, Again...

Friday, 6:00 AM...August 31, 2012......we slipped into the darkness with two dogs and a 37 foot trailer trying not to awaken the neighbors as we begin a month long trip to The Grand Tetons in Wyoming (not to be confused with Tetons anywhere else) and another crack at Colorado, minus any road hazards!

As you can see (or not), Miki and I have conquered STEALTH (or blackout)
MODE when putting the finishing touches on final packing in the wee morning
hours before liftoff on our trip west.  

Let's start by saying that Walliebloggin' is Walliedraggin', having gotten off the summer bench and back into the teacher substitution game for the new school year.  My friend Karen became a grand-mama for the first time this last week.  In a moment of weakness, when she found out her daughter was going to have a baby, months ago, I agreed to sub for her so she could support her daughter and new grand baby for a couple of weeks.  As divine intervention would have it, we had already planned to be on this trip, so I was only good for 4 days of the 10 she needed (just teasing Karen).  After the first day, I came home hoarse and draggin'. The thing about Karen, is she expects me to TEACH.  I had gotten soft.  After teaching the last of my 4 days and playing in the final night of a golf league I participated in this summer, Miki and I finished packing and cleaning, fell into bed, only to get up in the dark to cross our t's and dot our i's before heading out with the poor working saps in their early rush hour to get to work.  The only thing that made the traffic doable, was knowing we weren't going to work!

The remnants of Tropical Storm Issac gave us a beautiful sunrise, for a few minutes, as we headed north on I-29 to Omaha.

Yes it is blurry, and yes you cannot begin to appreciate the
colors or even the artistry and makeup of the shot itself, but real
art lovers can!  It is hard to keep a 20,000 lb. rocket on the road and
keep up the reputation of a fine art photographer at the same time...
something has to give...use your imagination.

As we found our groove on I-80, heading west from Omaha, the groove was enhanced by a personalized playlist of songs from one 15 year old young lady Miki and I had the opportunity to pass on our driving skills to.  After seeing her on the day she got her permit in hand, we knew without Driver's Ed., she needed us (no offense mom and pops).  For two weeks, Miki and I (mostly Miki) ran Marie through the "HeyWin School of Driver's Skills and Keep the Rubber Side Down" workshop.  In return, we received said playlist of tunes and a book on CD..."The Life of Pi",  both of which kept us moving forward today.

Thanks for the music CD Marie!  But don't notice that I don't have my
eyes on the road, I have no "10 and 2" position in effect, prior to this
photo I was driving with one knee on the wheel, and the honking
from the weaving in and out of my lane seemed to not have any
affect on the photo!

Tetons by way of Sidney, NE.  Eleven hours and what seemed like never ending diesel stops later, we arrived in Sidney, Nebraska where we are spending the night at the Cabela's RV Campground.  Conveniently located adjacent to the Cabela's outdoor store and across from a tasty Dairy Queen!

Here in Cabela's I found time to practice siting wildlife.  Miki captures a
surprised Wallie, just inches from a massive set of antlers belonging to one
of the many no longer members of wildlife we may have encountered on this trip.

Here, Miki fantasizes...trying to get her Pony Express riding man to not leave
her again as she pulls off his boot to have something to remember him by.

Now that we are settled in for the night, I can admit that after 400 of the 600 miles we drove today, the thought of another blowout faded away.  I think it took that many miles due to the overwhelming number of shredded tires I observed along the shoulder of the highway.

I leave you with a view of the "doghouse" as the sun was setting in Sidney, Nebraska this evening.  Where our neighbor RV'ers walk holding hands, playing with their dogs, and fart perfume.  Most RV Parks could be "Mayberry's" on wheels...but I am not the sheriff or his deputy (maybe the crazy barber!).

My Zen from the Road:  As tired and maybe even a bit cranky as we (I) may have been starting at 4:30 AM this morning and not having had any break in our drought ridden 
heat-a-thon this summer, many things made me happy today.  The full moon setting that seemed to be leading us out of town in the wee early morning hours, large  groupings of "weeds" along the highway that had multiple miniature sunflowers on them that just punched color scattered among all the brown, the truck drivers that acknowledged my flipping my high beams at them to know it was safe to merge in front of me... then after passing by and flashing their parking lights at me to say "thanks", to holding Miki's hand while walking to Cablea's tonight.  Sometimes getting away from things helps you to see other things you may have been missing.  I leave you with a bonus picture of three happy campers!

If those dogs only knew what they are missing in Cabela's behind them.

*** Welcome back Bloggernauts!  Settle in for a month of who knows what! ***

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.