I put the crew in their wire pen that’s set up alongside the Best Little Trailer.
I’ve got a dishpan of water and some Bounce fabric softener sheets. The sheets make it easy to wipe off the bugs on the front of the BLT. I also do the hood of the Perfect Tow Vehicle. Next I clean the spare tire cover which is covered in dust and grime.
With energy to spare, I wash all the windows on the BLT and the PTV.
That reminds me of something I was told a long time ago when my budget was very tight. When was it not tight? . . . Anyway. I had a job interview set up and not enough money to dress the way I wanted. A mature friend gave me this advice, “Wear good shoes and get a fresh haircut. Then the rest will look good, too.” It’s that way with the PTV. If I make the windows shine, the entire vehicle looks good, even if the rest is a bit dirty. Not that I went dirty to the job interview . . . . Oh, let’s move on.
By the time I finish these tasks, Bridget and Spike are tired of their pen. I’m ready for some air conditioning anyway. It’s only ten o’clock but already the heat is bearing down on us.
The cool interior of the BLT encourages me to clean inside, too.
I tackle the bathroom. Actually it’s an easy job. I love the fiberglass everywhere. A spray bottle of cleaner and a cloth, rub-a-dub-dub, and it sparkles.
I use three storage drawers stacked under the sink and an open bin for bathroom supplies. I don’t like to hang things on walls. The red rug on the floor adds some color. The blue thing on the sink is a motion-activated light.
Minimalist and utilitarian is my decorating style. . . or lack of one.
I grab the chance to say goodbye to Murdick.
I happen to step outside and see he’s driven his two tractors up on his flatbed and secured them with heavy chains. He’s sitting in the cab of his pickup with Pecos and his Spike on the seat with him. I walk over to his driver’s side.
“Ready to take those ribbons home?”
Murdick is a man of few words this morning.
“That’s right. All I have to do is wait for the pickup to come that’s going to haul my trailer for me.” Home for Murdick is Laramie.
“I was wondering how you were going to get it home.” I can tell Murdick’s mind is on something else, the trip home maybe, rather than chewing the fat with some woman camper.
“Nice to meet you, Murdick. Have a safe trip home.” He nods. (A report on the outcome of the tractor-pull was added as an update at the bottom of yesterday’s post.)
By afternoon I’m restless to go somewhere.
I toss the crew in the PTV and we drive into town.
Wheatland is easy to maneuver. The streets are wide and . . . absolutely empty! Today is a Sunday.
I foolishly thought I’d stop by the Wheatland Book Nook. It’s closed along with everything else in town, except the Sheriff’s office and a small grocery store.
It’s obvious when driving around Wheatland that the residents have a lot of civic pride.
The American flag flies at several storefronts. The flower shop window displays a handmade poster — “God bless America.” Brightly painted murals on buildings depict historical scenes.
Since I’ve been here, I have not seen one piece of litter in town, along the roads, or at the park.
I buy a few items at Thrift’s Grocery.
Only three cars are in the parking lot. I’m amazed that there aren’t any other vehicles on the streets. Back at the park, I realize no one is in the park either, except for three teenagers and the people camping. Yesterday the park was bustling, cars and people everywhere. It must be the custom here to stay home after Sunday services.
The campground is almost empty, too.
We’ll leave Wheatland in the morning. A short drive will put us in South Dakota. Tonight I’ll look online and in my atlas for possibilities for our next camp.