Thursday, May 25
We arrive at our new camp in the grassland between Route 93 and Grey’s Landing, Salmon Falls Creek Reservoir.
Here’s an illustration of our camp and its surroundings:
By noon I see the first indication in the clouds that rain is coming.
By late afternoon storm clouds charge across the sky. The rain arrives. Air temperature drops rapidly overnight.
Friday, May 26
Reggie and I wake to a cold morning! I dash outside, fire up the Perfect Tow Vehicle, and turn the heater on high.
Reggie emerges from the warmth of the covers and shivers as he eats his small plate of chicken for breakfast. Outside he does his business in a hurry. I pick him up and toss him into the PTV. He snuggles into his warm doggie bed under the blast of the heater.
I listen to country music (as long as I can stand it) while sipping hot coffee.
It rains, on and off, all day.
A short distance away a signal tower sends 4 bars/4G to my Verizon air card. I’m happy. Reggie contents himself by taking several naps and by playing with his toys, sending the recently rehabilitated Duck L’Orange and Chimpy on a fast track, return trip to ICU.
Saturday, May 27
I step outside to greet the morning.
Oh, it snowed up there!
The morning sun shines brightly; soon the clouds disappear.
I go inside to —
Stop, stop, STOP IT RIGHT THERE! Quit stalling, RVSue. You’ve already told them about Memorial Day Weekend in the previous post. It’s time to fess up. Admit you made a big mistake. Come on! Enough with the scenic landscape and weather reports. Tell them about The Incident! Is this an honest blog or what? — Conscience
Here’s the story. While Reggie and I were pulling out of Lud Drexler Campground to move camp to the grassland at Grey’s Landing, well, something happened that I never thought would happen. Not to me.
We’re bumping along on the pot-holed dirt road out of the campground when …
Instantly I hit the brakes.
“Damn! It jumped the ball!”
I run around to the rear of the Perfect Tow Vehicle. Sure enough, the coupler is off the hitch ball. Part of the tongue of the Best Little Trailer is underneath the back-end of the PTV!
What an awful sight — the BLT’s nose in the dirt! The anti-sway bar in two pieces!
I remove the bar which is bent and broken.
Oh, darn, the jack is damaged, too. The post of the jack is crimped on the bottom.
I have to raise the coupler to put it back on the ball. The jack post is in the dirt. Of course, I could raise the frame with my jack but I’d have to unload the PTV to retrieve it. Note to self: Put the dang jack where it can be located easily.
I proceed to lift the frame by putting the cone under the tip of the coupler, cranking up the jack post, stacking wood under the jack post, cranking, alternating between coupler and jack post. Only I don’t have enough wood to raise the couple high enough to back the ball under it.
Long story short . . .
A young couple comes along. They have a jack handy in the bed of their truck. While he’s jacking up the BLT’s tongue, I remark, “I’ve heard of this happening to other people and wondered why. Now I’ve done it.”
The young woman offers sweetly, “It can happen to the best of us.”
“Nice of you to say that, but I think it happens to the worst of us, too.”
(More about replacing the anti-sway bar and repairs in a future post.)
RVSue: “There, I told them. They know about My Big Boo-Boo. Are you happy now?”
Conscience: “Yeah, I’m clear.”
In the next post:
Reggie and Roger together again!
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