Saturday, August 24
It’s a another beautiful day at our boondock in Wenatchee National Forest along the Tieton River in Washington. (Yes, that’s Bridget hiding under the BLT. She’s in one of her moods again.)
Around noon I put Bridget and Spike in their little black suits and toss them into the Perfect Tow Vehicle. We go east on Route 12 to Willows Campground where we camped a week ago.
Such a pretty little campground and its half-full on a Saturday.
People would rather cram in on top of each other at the much bigger Hause Creek Campground, a few miles up the road. What is it with people and groups? Anyway . . .
I use the hand pump to fill two water jugs. The dang thing is so hard to pump I nearly rip the muscles in my side. I would’ve filled more jugs if it weren’t an Olympic event.
After that episode the crew and I go to Wild Rose Day-Use Area.
It looks like nothing but a bathroom and some picnic tables when viewed from the road. For that reason I think it’s ignored except for people who use it for a pit stop.
I hang my day-use pass on the rear view mirror (Thanks again, Harold and Candy!), and open the side door for the crew.
Since Wild Rose is on the bank of the Tieton, it gives us a new place to watch the floaters and kayakers on the river.
We walk down a paved path to a surprise.
A pier sticks out over the rapids! The river is loud! Boy, the Tieton lives up to its Indian name. (It means “roaring water.”)
Bridget and Spike aren’t too thrilled about walking over the noisy water.
The sound of the river at these rapids is thunderous! I coax Spike and Bridget out to the end, but they act like I’m making them walk the plank. They pull on their leashes to return to land.
“Okay, guys, you don’t have to do this. It is kind of scary.”
I walk them around some more on the path to set them up for a nap. Of course, every little thing, every smell, has to be thoroughly investigated. Okay. Okay. We’re losing daylight . . .
FINALLY we’re back at the PTV. I throw them in and return to the pier to wait for the floaters and kayakers.
About fifteen minutes later . . . Here they come!
And, darn-it-all, the camera doesn’t work!
“Aackk!” I push the “on” button and nothing. “NOOOOOO!” I love my camera! Three rafts of excited people dip and dive and careen over the waves, hootin’ and hollerin.’
And I get nothing.
Soon they’re downstream, out of sight.
I have to leave. I can’t take this. I’ve been taking photos of our daily lives for more than two years. It’s at the point now that I see photos everywhere I look. Without a working camera, I agonize over every “lost” shot. I tell you . . . This blog will be the ruination of me.
I drive us back to camp.
I ruminate on the situation all the way home. It probably isn’t a dead battery because I checked before we left and it’s fully charged. Darn! There’s no place to go camera-shopping around here. Errgggh!
Inside the BLT I do some delicate camera repair work.
(Message to reader Mick who gave me this camera. It may be best for you to skip this paragraph.) I check the battery charge again. It’s good. I alternate between pressing on the telescope part and whacking the camera against my palm a few times. I turn it on. I turn it off. I turn it on. It works!
I’m so happy that I have to eat.
Food is joy! I pour out some kibble for the crew. I put together a veggie plate of left-over potatoes, some English peas, and corn outta’ the can for me. Comfort food! By the time I’m done stuffing my face, I don’t feel like driving back to the pier. After all, this was a traumatizing experience. We’ll go again tomorrow. Sunday should be a good day for it.
Sunday, August 25
We return to Wild Rose and it starts to rain! I do manage to take a few photos before the rain begins, the ones I’ve posted here. Not one pic of floaters or kayakers! It was kind of a bust anyway. . . not the happy hordes that were expected.
In case you’re wondering . . .
Why aren’t we moving more quickly to the Pacific Coast?
Well, sometimes a full-time vagabond has to take care of mundane tasks, like vehicle registrations. I made arrangements for the registrations to be sent to the post office in Morton, Washington, which is west of here on the other side of White Pass and the town of Packwood.
I’m waiting for the registrations to arrive from South Dakota. Yes, I procrastinated about sending the money order. I wanted to make sure I knew where we would be so I’d know where to have them sent. Or some excuse like that.
My current registrations expire Saturday, August 31. If the new ones don’t show up at the Morton post office by this weekend, I guess Wenatchee National Forest will become the permanent home of rvsue and her canine crew! Maybe you could arrange for a helicopter to drop food?
rvsue
I DO LOVE EVERY RVSUE SHOPPER!
THANKS FOR USING MY LINKS TO SHOP AMAZON.
“Okay, everybody! Here I am!”
