Friday, October 11
The crew and I step out of the Best Little Trailer this morning. We quietly wander around the sagebrush.
I stand in a sunny spot to look and listen. I have my camera in order to take advantage of the soft light at this time of day. I don’t have a photograph in mind, but I’ve learned to be prepared. Bridget and Spike lie down on the warm sand by my feet.
In the distance a solitary deer lifts her head.
After breakfast Bridget, Spike and I go for a long walk.
It’s hard to believe that temperatures were down in the low 30s earlier this morning.
We haven’t gone anywhere in the Perfect Tow Vehicle since setting up camp here. The snow kept us here one day. The other days I felt no need to leave this place. The solitude is delicious. For me, not hearing another person’s voice for days at a time is a treat.
When we return to camp, I’m energized to accomplish something.
But what? . . . the PTV! The interior of my beloved tow vehicle has experienced several earthquakes and landslides. It’s a jungle back there. I take out everything behind the bench seat and set it on the ground. What a mess!
I fill two kitchen trash bags of stuff to throw away. I also fill a large, plastic bin and a garbage bag with clothes, books, and other items to take to a thrift shop.
I sweep out pine needles, dirt and mouse doo-doo.
When I put everything back into the PTV, the debris field is substantially lower. I’m very proud of myself. I go inside and lie down.
No! I go inside and fix myself a late lunch.
And then I lie down! Hmm . . . I should get online, go to Amazon, and buy things.
I get up and flip open the laptop. First thing I do is locate a UPS facility so I’ll have a shipping address. I locate one in Bishop, south of here. Great.
I order four, yellow wheel chocks. I presently have only three out of the original four. I left one behind at a campsite somewhere in the eight states we’ve traveled. Another is cracked and doesn’t inspire confidence in its anti-rolling ability. I order four new ones because my remaining, old ones are red and, well, wheel chocks need to match. Everybody knows that.
After that I begin some serious shopping.
I pick out a Caravan Canopy Zero Gravity Reclining Chair to replace the one I busted. Oh, how I’ve missed that chair! It is a necessary piece of equipment to ensure successful sunshine snoozes with no head-jerking.
Next, I pick out shoes!
I’ve noticed when the crew and I take exceptionally long walks that my right knee feels a little persnickety by the time we make it back to camp. I need better shoes to cushion my steps. Gotta’ save the knees!
I choose KEEN Women’s Gypsum Waterproof Trail Shoe. The color of the shoes is “earth and mimosa” which is shoe-speak for puke and snot. Not my first choice. However, that color is thirty to fifty dollars cheaper than the popular colors. Like I’m going to pay extra for some girly color. . . pffftt!
Oh, yeah . . . The BLT needs new bumper caps!
I’ve been driving around with no cap on one end of the BLT’s bumper. The sewer hose is kept in the bumper. I can see us going around a corner and having that sewer hose fly out like an insane serpent. So far, so good, but my luck is bound to run out (as will the hose).
I click on over to pet supplies and order two red dog jackets. The jackets are like wrap-around blankets. Sometimes Spike gets a case of the shivers. He just can’t adjust to cold like he used to. Yet he jumps into the coldest water. Go figure.
And you know how it goes, buy for one, gotta’ buy for the other.
Whew! All this shopping is exhausting!
I need to go lie down.
YOUR AMAZON PURCHASES ARE APPRECIATED.
“REAR VIEW MIRROR”
April 30, 2013, Bridget and Spike tour the campground at Navajo National Monument in northeastern Arizona.