INTRODUCTION - AUGUST 2016 ON THE ROAD

“Moss grows bad on a rollin’ stone,” as the song goes, and we’re no fan of moss so we’re rollin!’  I know some of you are probably wondering why anyone would want to head north from the pleasant 110F temperatures of southern Nevada.  Especially with the breezes… similar to a blast furnace.

The simple answer is that we have been invited to party in Oregon and Washington with our snowbird pickleball friends and ultimately, end up at the “Elvis Festival” in Bellingham.  Well, who can say, “no,” to that:  several weeks of party and an “Elvis Festival?”  We’ve got this.

We acquired a new beast in February of this year, flying up to Boise, Idaho, taking delivery and driving it back to the homestead.  For some time, there were headaches and teething problems and the last six months have been interlaced with multiple trips to the Las Vegas Ford truck shop and Fleetwood.  We believe that the serious issues have now been resolved and the rest is small potatoes.  We know how to tighten screws, oil squeeks and adjust door knobs.  One issue that Rob resolved independent of Ford involved streamlining the speed-gear-rpm ratios.  He studied and searched on the net for hours, days and sleepless nights.  Finally, Five Star website read, “Does your truck downshift and scream if it even looks at a hill?  We can fix that!”  For a few hundred dollars, they sent a hand-held computer about the size of a pack of cigarettes with a software program installed in it.  Working with the geeks, Rob downloaded the software into the beast’s computer.  Still not satisfied, Rob told them what he wanted.  They wrote a new program, sent it to Rob’s email, he downloaded it to the hand-held and installed it.  Bazinga!  B2 purrs like a kitten and my gear head is, or will be shortly, a “happy camper.”

As you can see, the world is overpopulated

Now, with the bugs worked out and having moved all of our “stuff” from the old bins in Bee to the new bins in B2 (or Bee-Too?), the time grew nigh to pack up the clothes, food, beer and olives.  Shooting for an 11 o’clock departure this morning, at 11:30 it was final:  whatever isn’t in the beast at this point isn’t going along.  We were sure to remember sweaters, hat and mittens, however, so as to prevent “Desert Rat Frost Bite,” it being “Summer” in the PacNW, after all.

5PM, just in time for the martini hour!

First stop:  An rv park named Whiskey Flats (what else?) in Hawthorne, central Nevada.  So far the drive has been uneventful, smooth, a bit gusty, fairly barren and unoccupied.  Here and there, the ghostly remnants of abandoned, small wooden mining town shacks barely stand, at last weatherworn and beaten down by the unforgiving desert elements.  There are a few small active towns, Goldfield and Tonopah, and of course a sprinkling of whorehouses here and there, such as Alien 51 Cathouse.  The sign read, “Brothel, Hot Sauce and Souvenirs.”  One does wonder if any of the souvenirs require medical treatment.  Tonopah featured one hotel called Humbug Flats, the Shady Lady B & B and the Bug Bar.  In this part of the rugged Wild West, metrosexual city slickers need not apply.

So we are off to the PacNW, where humans are wet and cold and fish are nervous!  Stay tuned!