CONSIDER ALL THE FACTS

Monday, September 14, 2009

Early to bed and early to rise means one gets up in the middle of the night, and we did.

Onie rose at a quarter of six and turned on the heater.  It was twenty four.  When the writer rose and hour later it had dropped one more degree.  A heavy frost and light fog covered our site.

Camped near the continental divide

Coffee and tea were made, this story started and then it was time for breakfast.  Chili along with our hot drinks started our day.  The heater continued to run along with the generator.  Eventually we got the temp inside the coach up to a toasty sixty eight.  Outside it was still twenty five.  Before showers were taken the Cummins was started as it will take some time for it to warm up on this cold morning.

A few minutes later the trash was taken out, the morning walk around completed and then the driver was ready to get back in the coach.  He was chilled to the bone.

Inside the bedroom slide was brought in, the jacks retracted and then the Allison was engaged.  It was ten minutes till eight and time to be on the road.

As the coach climbed into the continental divide the bright morning sun burned through the fog and into our squinting eyes.

Before too long we had reached the junction on the Al-Can and the Cassiar Highways.  We turned right and took the Cassiar.  We last traveled this road in two thousand three when it was mostly gravel.  Some friends in camp had traveled it on the way up and said it was a great road.  Ideal and perfect were also used to describe it.  When one hears hyperbole one should pause and consider all the facts before making a decision.  First off, great should probably never be used to describe a two lane road and if it is used, the listener should take warning.  Ideal brings to mind something that is the epitome of excellence.  Could this be a two lane road?  And perfect, the Garden of Eden was perfect until man’s immorality destroyed it and nothing has been perfect since, save Jesus Christ.  Ergo, be careful when friends, relatives or politicians, particularly politicians, describe something as perfect as in “this is the prefect answer” to the problem.   Whoever speaks this speaks not the truth.

The flip side of that is whoever believes something is great, ideal or perfect needs to examine the situation very carefully.  In our case we listened to our friends describe the Cassiar roadway in glowing terms using those mentioned above.  The fact that we had not traveled the Cassiar in six years and remembered it as having lots of wild animals, especially black bears, alongside the way we didn’t stop to examine the facts as presented.  Not all facts that are given us are immediately seen, recognized or considered.

In this case the vehicles that had traveled the road were very different from ours and as it turned out that was probably the main reason for their good view of the road surface.  Both the pickup and motor home that had made the trip were short wheel based compared to the Marlin and much lighter.  A rough road is much easier to negotiate in a short wheel based unit than in a long wheel based unit and the additional weight we carry means different driving characteristics are called for.  In addition both units had the engine in the front obviating the problem of mud clogging a rear radiator of loose gravel poking a hole in it.  These two things alone present a whole different outlook for travel when considering roads.  Add in the additional weight and the whole paradigm changes.  We took none of thing things into consideration before turning.

Three miles down the road the driver started thinking about these things and others.  The smooth pavement had turned rough and then broken before giving way to loose gravel.  In the driver’s mind’s eye a clogged holey radiator came into view, not a pretty picture miles from civilization as it is known to modern man.

We had taken this road in the very specific hope of seeing black bears.  Other wild animals would be a plus but we did expect to see them.  As the miles crept by we saw none, nada, zilch, nothing.  What we did see and feel was a very rough road and pavement breaks for quite a way.  Then the construction began.  Road that could be traveled at thirty miles an hour now required fifteen to twenty and sometimes ten.  Mud became commonplace as we negotiated a detour for bridge work and several low places that followed.  When the road did dry out it was for more bad road and pavement breaks followed by forty four kilometers of loose gravel.  Remember, none of this would be a problem in a front engine short wheelbase light weight vehicle.  We are none of the above.

All too soon we were met with another detour.  This one was for a mud slide and if the first one was muddy then this one was the mud hole from hell.  As we passed through it the driver could feel the rear tires sinking, probably up to the rims, into the abyss that would require a D8 Cat to pull us free if we should stick.  Additional pressure on the fuel pedal and a very good engine and transmission delivered us from this would be trap.  We were back on the loose gravel and glad of it.

At the end of three hours we had traveled ninety hard miles.

We pulled over at Jade City.

Store at Jade City and Onie with some more treasures

For the next hour we talked with the proprietress asking questions and learning about mining and working of jade as well as jade qualities.  When the hour was over we had parted with some U.S. dollars and acquired some of her jade.  Then it was time to be on the road again.

The lady had told us we were through the worst part of the road and she was right however at first the road surface improvement was minimal.  As the miles rolled slowly by, we were still limited to thirty five miles an hour, the road surface gradually increased.  As we neared the halfway point on Highway Thirty Seven the road surface began a real steady increase in smoothness and as a result our speed picked up.  Near this point we were up to forty five miles an hour and feeling like we were really speeding along.  As we topped a hill we were greeted with a picture postcard view of a sparkling blue lake with a backdrop of mountains.  The driver remembered the view from oh three.

A few miles on the real road appeared, just after a loose gravel portion, it was a roadway with a center stripe as well as a shoulder stripe and the surface was extremely good.  Not counting our stop it had probably taken us six hours to come two hundred miles.  Now we were able to cruise a bit faster, sometimes up to fifty five but generally around fifty due to winding nature of the road.

Along with the improved winding surface came long grades, both up and down, with some being indicated at eight percent. 

We had been on the road for nine hours now and were looking for a place to stop the coach so we could lay our heads down and get some rest.  Onie decided we should stop at a place called Bell II Lodge.  We arrived there ten and a half hours after we had started our trek across the great, ideal, perfect road.

Onie checked us in and directed us to our site in the park where we were the only traveler.  Bell II Lodge is in fact more a Lodge than it is a RV park.  They have a restaurant, cottages, a hot tub, a dry sauna, a workout room and other amenities.  The lodge caters to heliskiers and sells packages to them that include snow skiing down mountains after being flown to the top in a helicopter, hence, heliskiing.

We were both tired after a long day and Onie treated us to supper in the restaurant after which we went to the hot tub and then to the dry sauna.

We were back in the coach at nine fifteen, well fed and relaxed.  We watched three episodes of The Honeymooners before going to sleep at ten.  

HOUSTON

Tuesday, September 15, 2009

We drove very steady today on mostly good highways and ended up just ten miles east of Houston.  We have only been gone from Castaway six days and being already this close to Houston  we thought we had done remarkably well until we saw the complete name of the town, Houston, British Columbia, Canada.  Well, at the end of the day we still thought we were doing well.  The wheels have rolled one thousand six hundred forty seven miles since we got off the jacks last Thursday.  By the driver’s best estimate that is a third of the way to Lake Road if not a tad more.  Speaking of roads and wheels rolling on them, the Cassiar Highway was closed last night right after we got here, at seven.  It would be closed until eight this morning.

We got up at eight to start our day and heard the first trucks of the day rumbling past our campground.

It had been warmer last night than the night before and we had been blessed with a little more rain.  It was still cloudy.  The moisture will make it easier to get the bug accumulation off the front of the Marlin.

Onie made coffee and tea and cooked hot cereal while the writer made notes and worked on previous days’ stories.

With breakfast served, at eight thirty, we each got a crossword and began solving them.  When they were completed we picked up two more, harder these ones were, and began working on them.

When breakfast was over a quick cleanup was done before we donned our bathing suits and headed for the hot tub which was followed by the dry sauna which was followed by long showers.

Warm, relaxed, clean and dressed we were ready to take some pictures of our stopping place before we moved on.

Onie with big fireweed

If the park had a check out time they didn’t tell us and we didn’t ask.  Never the less we did leave before noon, eleven thirty to be exact.

We gained access to the road right next to the large gates that close the road in the event of an avalanche but had been used last night to close the road so crews could work on the mudslide area.

The avalanche gates had been closed all night

Headed southeast on the good surface we were able to maintain the eighty kilometer per hour speed limit, about fifty miles per hour, without too much difficulty.  The road through here is very scenic and one is tempted to gaze at the mountains or streams/rivers but does so at the peril of running into one of them.  As a result the driver kept his eyes mostly on the road.  A light mist began to fall and it soon turned to rain, light but still rain.  The Marlin was steered around the curves and up and down the grades with the toad following along.  Onie watched for animals which never materialized except for a lone cottontail.  She figured it was because it was hunting season that the elk, moose, deer and bear were staying hidden in the woods.  She was probably right.

Down the road about an hour and a half we stopped at a creek where Onie said we could see red salmon spawning.  As soon as we were out of the coach and had taken two or three steps toward the creek we knew she was right.  The smell of rotting salmon permeated the air.  We walked to the bridge over the creek and she took some pictures of the spawning salmon.  It was obvious they had reached the gravel bars where they had hatched, years ago, and would soon die, some before days end.

The red in photo shows salmon in last stages of life.

We had driven through a provincial park at the lake that the creek feeds into.  It is beautiful but like most of the provincial parks the sites are too small to accommodate the Marlin.  We stopped for some pictures before moving on.

Picnic area at provincial park

With the smell of rotting fish still in our nostrils we moved down the road just a bit to a good pull out where we stopped for lunch.  We had the last of the bowtie pasta and spaghetti sauce with fresh Mandarin oranges for dessert.  Onie had gotten them in Whitehorse and we have been enjoying some everyday since.

Back on the highway and with the rain still falling we headed on southeast to Kittanga and the end of the Cassiar, aka Highway Thirty Seven.  At its junction with Highway Sixteen, the Yellowhead, we stopped for fuel.  Eighty eight gallons later we were ready for the road again.  After adjusting the cost for the Imperial gallon and the exchange rate the fuel was actually less expensive than it was in Alaska but don’t get the idea they were giving it away or that it was cheap.

The Yellowhead is a main east-west artery in Canada and as such receives extra maintenance.  Overall the road surface is good and one is able to drive fifty seven miles an hour, our cruising speed, without interruption except for towns.

Two hours after pulling onto the Yellowhead we were at our night’s stopping place.  It was seven twenty and we had logged two hundred sixty nine miles in almost eight hours.  It was another day of low average speed but we had stopped to smell the flowers and dead fish along the way.  We will make more miles another day.

In the pullout we put the jacks down and while Onie got out some snacks Pawpaw got out the laptops and set them up.  He sat down to write and she sat down to play Action Bookworm.  This is a more challenging version of Bookworm and one she wants to master.

With the shades of night being drawn, at eight, she stopped to fix supper, salad, chili and fried corn bread, corn pone the writer believes.

After supper Onie played a little more Bookworm while the driver tried to write.  On the road truck after truck rumbled by and across the road trains kept the track hot as they traveled to points unknown.

By nine we were both in bed intent on getting a good night’s sleep.  

VENISON ROASTS?

Wednesday, September 16, 2009

We were up at eight after a restless night.  It had been too warm, never dipping below fifty two and the train and truck traffic proved to be more intrusive than we had bargained for.

The driver donned dirty clothes and went out to see if he could heal the ailing generator.  After giving the problem some thought last night, between sleep periods, and this morning he figured the problem was a dirty fuel filter starving the engine.  He opened the front access cover, removed the interior access cover and tried to remove the old fuel filter.  The new one he had brought with him for just such an emergency, lay next to his tool box.

The writer is thankful for every birthday he has celebrated and hopes to celebrate many more but with birthdays comes a declining of body strength, for most of us.  We hope the declining body strength is offset by wisdom so we can overcome the frailties of the body with stealth and cunning.

This morning stealth and cunning had little to do with removing the fuel filter.  It was firmly in place and even though the writer twisted on it to the point of straining his wrists it refused to budge.  A filter wrench was what was needed.  He had just the right size hanging in his shop in Coldspring but it was doing him no good this morning.  As realtors like to say there are only three things that are important, location, location and location and the location of the filter wrench was wrong.  Everything was buttoned back up, the tools put away and the writer went inside to eat breakfast.  Onie had it waiting.

We had our hot cereal, coffee and tea followed by mandarin oranges.  Of course we worked a couple of crosswords then picked up some really difficult ones to challenge ourselves with.  After being challenged a while, we put the puzzles aside and prepared to move down the road.

At ten we pulled into the moving traffic and continued southeast on the Yellowhead.  The roadway was good and with the cruise set we settled in for a good ride.  Lakes, streams and rivers passed by our moving windows and in the distance, mountains beckoned the more adventurous sorts.

At Burns Lake a NAPA Auto Parts house was on our side of the road and had a big parking lot.  We pulled in.

The driver alit and went inside with the fuel filter to get a filter wrench.  A nice young man was waiting to help him find the two dollar filter wrench that now cost seven dollars in Coldspring but fifteen dollars in Canada.  Smiling all the way, the driver paid the ransom for the wrench and took it outside to freedom and the work awaiting it.  With the front of the coach unbuttoned once more the old filter was removed, quite easily thank you, with the aid of the filter wrench, and the new one installed.

The generator engine was cranked, it ran about thirty to forty five seconds and quit.  But it had run quite smoothly so it was cranked again, with the same results.  A couple of times more and the writer/mechanic went back inside the parts house to find the name of a good mechanic.  There was one in Prince George, about two to three hours ahead of us.  With steady driving we could be there by three and perhaps they could help us.

Back in the Marlin and motoring again the driver mulled over the generator problem.  He still believed it had to be a fuel problem and resolved that the problem now was that air had gotten into the fuel line when the filter was changed.  It needed to be bled out.  This could be accomplished by cranking and running the engine, in spurts, until the air was purged.  With that in mind he cranked the generator engine once again.  It caught and ran for the next two hours before he stopped it.

In the meantime Onie had fixed lunch, salmon salad stuffed green bell pepper, fresh cucumber slices and radishes along with iced Jasmine tea.  The oatmeal cookies that should have been eaten for dessert were eaten first for an appetizer.

We negotiated the streets of Prince George and were well down the road before we saw fit to stop the generator.

Driver and passenger were despairing of seeing any wild animals on this passage through Canada until we reached Jasper and Banff National Parks.  Since crossing the border we had been teased with signs indicating where moose or deer were to be seen.  As noted earlier we had seen only a rabbit.

The Fraser River flows just south of Prince George and after crossing the bridge one is met with a rather steep hill to the left and a copse of wood to the right.  As we made the crossing and began a gentle curve to the right what should appear but a white tail yearling, ambling across the road, intent on becoming venison roasts.  The driver braked sharply, not having his skinning knife nor a license, to let the young deer cross, unmolested.

Somewhat mollified but still seeking wildlife we rolled on.  Onie was reading a map when the driver spotted three black figures on the hillside.  He alerted Onie and she looked up as we slowed to get a better view of a black bear sow and her two cubs hustling into the woods.

Now we were both on full alert and none too soon.  A few minutes later Onie spotted a deer crossing the road, then another and another.  The driver slowed to get a picture.

 Mule Deer

As the deer approached a fence they sprung over like they had Bilstein Shocks built in.  Onie remarked on this feat and wondered what kind of deer they were.  The big ears and tell tale bounce were a dead give away for mule deer.  We stopped and watched while they disappeared into the woods.

Now it was after five o’clock and the driver was growing quite wary of the wildlife bent on becoming supper at the cost of the front of the coach.  Earlier it had been agreed to drive eight hours and then stop.  That would be about six.  Onie had a place picked out.  The driver hoped to get there in one piece and started praying, thanking God for a safe journey to date and asking for no animal collisions before we stopped tonight or before we get home or ever.  He was reminded of the importance of prayer when a white tail made a slow sashay across the road in front of the coach.  By more braking and maneuvering the little deer was missed.  It was as if God was saying you do your part and I will do mine.

At six ten with no animal hair on the front of the Marlin we eased into a double ended pullout next to the Fraser River.  We had logged three hundred forty five miles at an average speed of forty three miles an hour, a good ten miles an hour faster than the last couple of days.  We were sixty two miles from Jasper.

In Prince George a man told Onie we had no brake lights.  Now the driver went out to check it out.  Onie started supper while the generator ran, once again.

Fuses were checked and they were good.  The left rear tail light assembly was removed and it seemed that one of the elements in a multi-element bulb was burned out.  Checking his supply of bulbs he found he was missing the right one, a T3157.  The running light works as that element is good but the brake lights don’t.  Another NAPA auto parts house will be visited to get the correct bulbs and then the driver will put them in, restoring our brake lights.

Supper was a great salad and chili with diced onion topping.

Then it was more writing for the driver while Onie read Dereliction of Duty, a story about Bill Clinton and his lack of responsibility as president.  The book was written by the soldier who carried the nuclear briefcase during the Clinton administration.   He talks about how Clinton refused to be bothered with national security while playing golf, among other things.

It was completely dark at eight but still a warm seventy one degrees.  We opened some windows and turned on the Smart fan.

At nine o’clock Onie let out the bedroom slide and crawled in between the sheets.  It will be too warm for any cover.

The writer scribbled until ten when he joined Onie.

ONE HOUR

Thursday, September 17, 2009

The Fraser Fiver, British Columbia’s most prolific salmon producer flowed by our passenger windows this morning. 

All night long, echoes of passing vehicles rocketed to us from the rock wall on the driver’s side.

 It had not produced a good night’s sleep.

We were up at eight.  The rain had been with us most of the night but now was tapering off.  The dampness in the fifty degree air made it feel colder.

The driver stirred up some buckwheat cakes while Onie cooked bacon.  By adding Jay’s jam, Pattie’s figs and the Huckleberry honey Kyle had brought us from Alabama we had everything we needed for our meal.  The hot coffee and tea were very helpful in chasing the cold away.

We left our night spot at ten to ten, in the rain.

We negotiated the hills and dales enduring more bad roads.  Going into Jasper National Park we stopped to pay a toll, sixteen fifty.  A few years ago there was no toll for the drive through.

Motoring through the park we wished that some of the toll money would be used to repair the poor roads.  Our wishes were soon granted.  We got to an area where they were repairing the road.  Perhaps it would be more accurate to say they were rebuilding it, blasting away part of a mountain in the process.

There would be a delay.  While we waited Onie fixed our lunch.  There was the salmon salad in bell pepper halves and radishes and carrots from the community garden back at Castaway.

Just in front of us were two young men on BMW motorcycles.  They were standing close to the front of the coach, seeking shelter from the rain.  After lunch we invited the guys in.  Onie served them hot tea and some fresh grapes.  They were very grateful to be in out of the rain and to be warmed by the tea.  We visited until the hour’s delay had passed.

At two thirty the long string of vehicles, possibly a mile long, began moving through the blasting area.  On the far side of the construction area we resumed our journey in the rain, through more construction, loose gravel and on below par roads.  Even though we were in a national park we saw no wild animals but we did see a beautiful rainbow.

 Beautiful rainbow greets us

At a summit we left Jasper National Park and entered Banff National Park. 

Banff National Park has something we think is unique to it, animal bridges and tunnels.  These were built to allow animals to move from one side of the highway to the other safely since there are high fences to keep them off the roadway.

Animal crosswalk

In Lake Louise we bought ten gallons of fuel.  It was four dollars a gallon.  To get to the service station we had to pass over Texas Gates.  To the uninformed Texas Gates are what Texans called cattle guards.

After we left Lake Louise we found better roads and higher speed limits.  We were able to set the cruise and move on down the road to Calgary and the Flying J, there.  We pulled in to fuel up, at seven ten.  We had come three hundred seventeen miles in just under nine and a half hours.

At the fuel pump our wait to fill up was rewarded.  The fuel was two dollars and sixty cents a gallon.  Our last tank plus what we got at Lake Louise had yielded nine miles to the gallon.

We pulled over to the big rig parking area and shut off the Cummins.  Our day of travel was over.

Onie prepared another of her great salads and we ate the last of the chili.

Dominoes followed supper.

Outside the hot daytime temps were falling with the setting sun.

Inside the coach all was peace and happiness as each occupant won a game.

At eleven we put up the dominoes, turned out the lights and went to bed.

COUTTS/SWEETGRASS

Friday, September 18, 2009

We began our second week on the road today.

We were up at eight.  Outside it was cool, forty nine, and mostly clear.

Inside it was warm and hot cereal, coffee and tea were on the table.

After breakfast we took showers, dressed, got the coach ready for the road and then went to the RV Island to empty our holding tanks and take on more fresh water.

At ten ten we left Flying J and headed for the highway, Southeast bound on a good road. 

We motored through downtown Lethbridge and then took a cutoff thru the pretty countryside.  Farms and ranches lined our road. Ducks dotted the many ponds and a few geese fed in the surrounding fields.

At two thirty we drove into Coutts, Alberta, the port of entry for Canada and a few feet later we were in Sweetgrass, Montana, United States of America, the port of entry and Customs Office.  We waited our turn.

In front of us and in the next lane we saw Customs Agents checking out vehicles with Canadian tags that were seeking entry into the U.S.  Doors were opened as well as trunks and a dog sniffing for contraband covered both vehicles as well as officers using hand held X-ray machines.  After a while the vehicles were cleared to go.

When our turn came we answered a few questions posed by the Customs Agent then he wanted to know where our hand gun was.  I told him we didn’t carry one.  He said it was a Constitutional right and Texans were big on Constitutional rights and he should know since he is from Texas.  With a chuckle and a smile he welcomed us home, wished us a good day and safe trip home.

We were on the road again, back in the good ole U.S. of A., Montana.

The road south to Great Falls was very good.  We got there at four thirty.  We agreed it was too early to stop so we headed on south and east.  The good road turned bad and then we were in endless construction with extremely rough road, detours and loose gravel.

Onie’s planning material showed a nice pullout close to where we were but as we approached the area we could see it didn’t exist.

It was now getting late and we were both tired and ready to stop for the day but we needed a place that could accommodate our fifty foot combined length and level enough we could sleep. The road got better, much better, but we saw nothing that looked like a stopping place.  We headed on down the road through beautiful rolling country.  Apparently even the animals were tired as we saw not one.

Before a long grade we saw a chaining up area but it was short and very full of pot holes.  We continued up the grade which was about three or four miles long.  At the top of the grade was a

chain off area.  It was long but not very level.  We pulled into it anyway.  It was seven twenty five.  We had traveled four hundred twenty four miles at an average speed of forty nine miles per hour.  We tried leveling up but it was useless.  While front to back wasn’t too bad the side to side sloped too much to get us anywhere close to level.

The driver stepped out to look the area over, check the coach, take a picture and take a short walk.

Onie was preparing supper while the driver was doing his walk about and taking pictures.

Back inside the coach notes were made of the seventeenth and eighteenth.

We had supper at eight.  Outside it was almost dark.  We had salad, Axis deer sausage, courtesy of our Coldspring neighbor, Jim Sturmer, and home grown cabbage courtesy of our Castaway neighbor, Chelsie Eager.

By the time supper was over at eight thirty it was completely dark.  Stars twinkled overhead like so many stationary fireflies.

We were in bed by nine o’clock.  What we had hoped would be a good night’s sleep was anything but.   The slant of the bed made one think of trying to sleep on a hillside.  Once a person relaxes he starts to roll down the hill.  Onie was ending up against her closet and the driver was ending up against Onie.  Somehow we managed to get some sleep during the night but it wasn’t much.

NO ROOM

Saturday, September 19, 2009

We were up at seven.  We felt like we had been sleeping, or at least trying to sleep, on the side of a mountain.  The time in bed had not been especially restful but we knew we had to move to find a better place.

If the stopping place wasn't perfect the surrounding area was beautiful and this morning we had clear skies with a fifty degree temp.

Breakfast was warm-ups, hot cereal and sausage and cabbage along with fresh coffee and tea.

After the morning walk around the coach was started, allowed to warm up and then we were on the road.  It was eight.

We had very good roads even if we did have long grades to climb and descend.  As the miles rolled by we turned on the dash air.  We had been running it now, from midmorning to late afternoon, since Lethbridge, Alberta.  The days have been hot but the nights have been cool.

Outside our moving windows we saw antelope, ducks and geese.

Onie served lunch around noon, salmon salad in a bell pepper, celery and iced tea.

With the miles melting away behind us we moved into Wyoming where we stopped at Casper for fuel, Flying J, and tail light bulbs and groceries at Wal-mart.  While we were in Wal-Mart the driver figured the fuel mileage for the last leg, nine point two miles per gallon.

Onie tried to find us a RV park where we could have full hookups and park for the night.  The temp was ninety five and the thought of trying to sleep in hot weather was too much after last night plus we had been on the road now for ten days and needed a good night’s sleep.  There was no room for us in Casper.  She did locate a place for us in Douglas, just forty five miles down the road.

At six thirty we pulled into the KOA in Douglas.  We had come four hundred thirty miles.  Onie checked us in with the camp hostess, Judy, who was very pleasant.  She escorted us to our site and saw to it that we had what we needed before she left.

The living room slide had not been out since we left Castaway.  The slide cover was tied down to prevent damage in high winds and yes we had encountered high winds, on several occasions.

After the land lines were connected and the coach leveled the driver took off the tie down on the slide cover and Onie expanded our house.

Now it was time to sit down and relax in the warm evening air.  We did that at our picnic table.

Later we grilled ham steaks to go with the zucchini casserole and sliced tomato that Onie served up.  During supper we discussed our travels home, to date, and we decided we needed a rest day.  Tomorrow we will rest, not travel.

With supper over Onie tuned in the satellite to get a TV signal.  She watched TV while the driver wrote and played computer games.

Later Onie took a long shower before turning in.  The writer took a quick shower before turning in at midnight.

The roof air conditioners had been turned on right after our arrival and now they ran as we went to sleep.

They ran all night.

A DAY OF REST

Sunday, September 20, 2009

We were up at ten.

Onie fixed biscuits and sausage served with Pattie’s figs and Jay’s jam as well as our coffee and tea.

We watched Fox TV for a while, catching up on news.  Of course it was the same.  Some nut killed a young woman, the mess in Washington was still a mess, our enemies are still trying to kill us, some people are stealing from us and trying to say it is okay because of their background and no one wants to take responsibility for their actions.

What this country needs is more rope and strong trees to tie it to and juries willing to hand down punishment that fits the crime, upbringing and childhood deprivation notwithstanding, and then courts who will order the punishment to be carried out, swiftly.  There is no such thing as a sanitary and painless way to put someone to death and even if there was the killers of innocents wouldn’t use it so they aren’t entitled to it.

And before the subject is left, let’s face it; a lot of people spend their childhood in harsh surroundings and deprivation.  Such surroundings don’t make people bad but it does bring out their innate qualities.  Many great people have risen from poverty and discrimination to become outstanding members of society just as some folks who are born with the proverbial silver spoon in their mouth become killers of the worst sort.

The writer was due for a long shower and he indulged himself until the water began growing cool.  While he was in the shower he felt the coach began to rock under the onslaught of the Norther that was blowing in.  It dropped the temp ten degrees in ten minutes.

Onie was cleaning house.

Out of the shower the writer sat down to make notes and write. 

At a stopping place he dressed, took out the trash, it was beginning to sprinkle and the wind was howling like a banshee, and got out his tools to see if he could fix the tail lights on the coach.  Actually we have tail lights but no turn signals or brake lights.  The driver has been simulating brake lights by turning on the tail lights when he brakes.  With the tail light assembly out of the coach body he checked the wiring and bulbs, replacing the multifilament bulb that serves the tail lights, brake and turn signals, but that didn’t fix the problem.  It will have to go to the shop, Channelview Supply, where they corrected the same problem before we started our trip.  We will see if they warranty the work.

Back inside it was quiet.  The TV was still on but the impending bad weather and perhaps strong winds had interrupted the satellite signal.  We would have to wait to see if the signal returned.

The driver sat down to do more writing while Onie began preparing supper and continuing her cleaning.

The bad weather passed and with its passing the TV signal returned.  Onie got out her computer to work on week seventeen and put the TV on Tru TV so the writer could watch COPS, a show he enjoys but hasn’t seen in quite sometime.

Soon it was time to begin supper preparations.  Onie had thawed venison burger and now she turned it into seasoned patties while the writer went out and got the charcoal started in the grill.  While he was doing so he noticed black heavy clouds building in the east and a few small drops of rain began hitting his bald head.

Before the rain started in earnest the burgers had been cooked and enjoyed.  A little more TV was enjoyed before the strong wind and rain arrived.

Onie went to bed and the writer sat down to finish this story, completing week eighteen.  Before another week is completed we should be home on Lake Road.

With the rain still falling, but less hard, the writer closed his laptop, brushed his teeth and went to bed.  It was eleven forty five.

Tomorrow was another drive day and one that would bring us closer to home.