Tuesday, April 4
The Perfect Tow Vehicle rumbles across the mesa, leaving the Best Little Trailer behind.
Reggie and I have errands to do in Overton.
Our first stop is the library. I park the PTV in a patch of shade.
“I’ll be back soon, Reg. I promise.”
The librarian greets me pleasantly as I hand her a book and several DVDs. A few minutes later I return to the counter to check out another batch of DVDs.
(I’ve learned that in any given batch of movies, I’m lucky if half of them are worth watching to their end so I bring home twice as many as I want.)
The librarian scans each DVD and then hands the stack to me.
I thank her and, before I turn to go, she replies cheerily, “You’re welcome. Have a good one!”
Next we go to Family Dollar to fill up water jugs at the vending machine in front of the building. From there we go to Lin’s Grocery next door.
While waiting my turn at the deli counter, the deli person hands a young man his order. Before he walks away, he thanks her and says . . .
“Have a good one!”
Next it’s my turn. And, wouldn’t ya’ know, when I thank her she replies — yep, you guessed it —
“Have a good one!”
I pick up a few more items in the store and proceed to check-out. As the cashier hands me my receipt I receive another “Have a good one!”
What is this? Overton code? Apparently everyone got the memo. Weird.
Our last stop is Overton Community Park.
I open the passenger side door and Reggie, seeing we’re at his favorite place in town, becomes so excited he leaps into my arms.
“Hold on, buddy! I have to snap on your tether!”
When we walk by the playground area, a dog emerges from a group of people sitting under a tree.
“Gee, Reg. I think you’re gonna’ have a good one!”
Immediately Reggie shows off how fast he can run.
When he figures he’s made a favorable impression, he introduces himself to the young lady. Together they lift a paw.
It isn’t long before Reggie has her following him wherever he goes.
Overton is very big-rig friendly.
Two-lane Route 95 becomes a wide boulevard, slicing across the length of town. This boulevard, Main Street, has wide areas along it. If you want to make a quick run into the grocery, the thrift shop, or other business, and you don’t feel like hauling your monster rig into the parking lot, all you have to do is pull over to the curb.
Many times I’ve found very little traffic on Main Street.
These days, however, one frequently sees RVs on their way through town, and it seems like every one of them is heading north. Perhaps some of the snowbirds want to be home in time for Easter week when the grandkids are out of school.
Which reminds me…
Soon we will reach the camping days limit at our present location. (Poverty Flats doesn’t have a camping days limit. On the road to the mesa we’re camped on there’s a sign that says “15 day camping limit.”)
I need to find a camp for us for the week of spring break. And in order to do that, I need to make a decision regarding what route we will take toward this summer’s camps.
As usual, this annual decision is hampered by a pesky problem . . .
I want to go EVERYWHERE!
“Come on, Reggie! Time for us to head home!”
Wednesday, April 5
The day begins with another lovely sunrise.
For our morning walk, Reg and I follow the road below our camp.
It’s rough and rocky and leads to a wash that winds through a canyon.
As we walk along, I see that the mountains received a dusting of snow while we got rain the other day.
The road deteriorates. There are a few major wash-outs.
“Oh, for heaven’s sakes! The burros came through here!”
Ever since we made this camp, Reg and I have searched for the burros. We hear them every morning, beyond the canyon and near the river. At first we thought they were close.
Off we went, determined to find them.
After walking about an hour, crossing the boundary into Lake Mead Recreation Area, I realize that once again I’ve been fooled by desert distance. Sound carries very far and those burros are well beyond our capability to hike.
Even so, hope springs eternal.
And this morning I find a heap of fresh burro biscuits!
“Gee, I bet they walked right by our camp! Probably during the night or very early in the morning.”
Well, I have seen a lot of burros since full-timing, so I can’t complain.
If you like burros, take a look at this post of June 2013: “Hundreds of burros!”
The discovery of those burros is one of those serendipities that makes a life on the road so much fun!
Later at camp I disconnect one of our propane tanks.
We take it to the same garage that put on the PTV’s new brakes last fall. The young man comes out of one of the bays to pump the propane and laughs at the sight of Reggie peering out the driver’s side window.
“What a cute dog!” he exclaims.
When the tank is filled, he hands me the slip of paper with the amount of propane written on it, which I’ll take into the office to pay. Even though I move toward the tank to lift it into the back of the PTV, he quickly steps forward, “No, I’ll get that.”
He hefts the tank into the PTV. Before turning to resume his mechanicking, he gives me a smile, and then, as he walks away, in his best Overton manner, he calls over his shoulder:
“Have a good one!”
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