Class A Boomers: July 2014

It's been seven weeks since I last posted a blog and a whole lot of stuff has happened—and not happened.

We had a delightful visit with our friends Mike and Deb at the KOA in Shingletown, California. I blame my advancing years but I can't remember how long ago we last saw them. I suspect it's been several years but the beauty of this friendship is that it doesn't seem to matter how long between visits because we pick up where we left off. And, being that there are four personalities involved, it amazes me that the dynamics remain the same—we all like each other.

Mike and Deb had their grandson, Enoch, with them. He's a cutie. Blessed with beautiful, warm weather, we spent a good amount of time around the swimming pool to keep him entertained. Enoch made a few friends with other camping kids and kept disappearing without a word to either of his grandparents. It was driving Deb nuts. Thank goodness it was a fairly controlled and safe environment where kids could just be kids.

Our next stop was Gold Hill, Oregon, where we spent a month. Cypress Grove is a clean and lovely RV park with nice folks managing the place and quite pleasant but for two minor drawbacks: It's situated right next to I-5, yet surprisingly not too loud; and, the small laundry room has only two washers and two dryers. There was one major drawback, though, and we don't know how many people in the park it affected, but we were parked under some sort of locust tree. Everyday we had more and more of this sticky stuff that coated everything. It was as though we were misted by sugar water. We could only imagine what the top of The Beast looked like and at one point Rob checked and said there were leaves stuck all over the roof. We had the car washed twice but shouldn't have because it looked the same the following day. Even if we left our Kindles on an outside table for a little while we'd find them sprinkled, too. The stuff washed off easily, but it was annoying enough that we might never go back there because of it.

While staying at Cypress Grove, we met a nice couple, Dixie and Frank, who have a really great Chihuahua named Bruce. Bruce took a liking to Rob and would jump right up onto his lap and settle in. Rob said if we were lucky enough to find a dog like Bruce, he wouldn't mind having one—a Chihuahua that is. But it's a moot point. Dogs are too much like toddlers. No dogs for us while living on the road. Another person we met was Eddie. He's a retired Contra Costa County Sheriff's deputy (for those who don't know, that's the county where our house is located). Eddie is 70 years old but likes to keep busy so he's working for Oregon State Parks and spends his days at Rogue River State Park keeping people in line. He would get back to his motorhome in the evenings shaking his head at how really great some people are and how the rest are really stupid. Yep. I know.

Gold Hill is near Ruch (pronounced Roosh), where the locals go to hang glide and paraglide from Woodrat Mountain. We were able to see several of our friends from our California paragliding community at a week-long competition called Rat Race, which was held during second week we were there. Rob got one flight in on the practice day and didn't fly again. There was no one to fly with and one must always fly with a buddy.

On one of the days before people started arriving for the competition, we took a drive up to launch for a look-see. While driving back down we spotted a bear loping across the road. We slowed down and I was hoping to get a photo of it, but it took one look over its shoulder at us, hied up the slope and was out of sight in a flash. I wish we'd had more time to observe the bear, but it was just so cool that we got to see him at all.

We took a day trip to Crater Lake to enjoy its unique beauty. The last time we were there was 25 years ago when we took a camping trip with daughter Elizabeth the year she refused to go visit her mother. That was back in the day when camping meant tents and sleeping bags, ice chests, Coleman stoves, lanterns, washing dishes using two dishpans with water heated on the stove, and sitting around the campfire until you couldn't keep your eyes open any longer. Those were the good, old days. Really.

We discovered our air conditioning (heat pump) wasn't working while we were in Gold Hill. I remember noticing while we were home that the air coming from the vents didn't seem as cold as usual but didn't really think anything of it. Then one particularly warm day, Rob thought the heat pump was making a strange noise, then he said he smelled something. We shut it down and called Camping World in Eugene. We set an appointment for the day we were leaving Gold Hill. During the interim we had several days where the temperature was in the mid-90s and a couple that got to 103°. It was unbearably hot in The Beast. We drove to a Lowe's in Medford and bought a 20” box fan to either help keep air moving or exhaust it through a window. We wanted to visit the Rogue River State Park and dip our feet in the river, but I was afraid to leave the bird and cats alone in case any adjustment was needed to help keep them comfortable.

At the beginning of our last week in Gold Hill, Rob decided we should leave two days early and go straight to Camping World. It was good we did because we needed two days there for them to determine the extent of the problem. The capacitor was fried. The part had to be ordered, so off we went to Cape Perpetua National Forest campground for a week at the coast. We arrived a day late, and even though I'd called, the message didn't get to the camp hosts. If we hadn't arrived that day, they would've given our spot to someone else. What's interesting about that is anyone else owning and/or running a campground or RV park are not allowed to rent out a space that is already reserved and paid for by someone. Cypress Grove couldn't re-rent our space for the two days that were left on our reservation. We were told its called 'double-dipping' but it is perfectly fine for the Feds to double-dip. We prepaid our week there two months in advance and they were going to give our paid space to someone else? There's something wrong with this picture.

But, the upside to that week, besides visiting with my cousin Eric and his wife Donna who live to the north, and our friends Bryan and Marty who live to the south, was that the weather was refreshingly cool. No air conditioning required!

We dry camped that whole week—no electricity, no water, no sewer hook ups and no shower facilities in the restrooms—which meant washing up at the sink. No showers allowed because water conservation was what would get us through the week. By the morning we left to go back to Camping World, our fresh water tank was nearing empty and both gray and black water tanks were approaching full. For me, that week was a vacation from our vacation-like life because not only were we roughing it water and power wise, we also had no connectivity and our satellite dish couldn't see any—that's right—satellites. It was just like the old days! Couldn't be reached by phone, couldn't watch TV, and couldn't check emails or Facebook. We spent lots of time outside enjoying our beautiful campsite, had campfires, read and explored the beautiful coastline. Believe me, though, we didn't stay incognito for the whole week. When we'd go into the town of Yachats (pronounced Yah-Hahts), we'd park in the lot at the local market and could be seen earnestly poking our fingers at our cell phones.

During the last several weeks, there have been emails and Facebook postings from the organizers of my 40^th high school reunion, which, by the way, I did not attend. They posted the original list of graduates and highlighted those for whom they still needed contact information. I've often thought of my friend, Linda Pruitt, and found that it appeared they had her contact information. I emailed off a request for one of my classmate-organizers to get my email address to her. In no time I had a email from Linda. We've been corresponding ever since. I am so pleased to be reconnected with her. What's funny is that her married name is Miller, which means I have two friends named Linda Miller. Hmmm. What are the odds?

So here we are at Camping World with The Beast backed into a space at the far end of the parking lot, electrical cable fished through the iron fence and plugged into one of their outlets meant to power units they have for sale. When we need to dump tanks and fill up on water, we just drive over and use the dump station they have here. We've been here a week and are waiting for the extended warranty company's inspector to arrive. We hope he/she will authorize a new unit so that we don't have to keep dealing with repeated issues by replacing a part here and a part there.

By the time we leave, we may have received about three weeks worth of free camping altogether. It could be an easy thing for them to tell us that we could stay for a few nights, but otherwise find a nearby RV park. They haven't done that. They have welcomed us to stay. When it comes to the repairs needed, they've been completely honest and straightforward and have stayed on top of the situation. They will be receiving a stellar review from us.

When the repair is completed and if its too late in the day to get to Graham at a reasonable hour, I might just spend our last night here baking my personally-tweeked-recipe-of-super-delicious-to-die-for Snickerdoodles for the entire Camping World staff. They deserve it.

I am really looking forward to meeting the folks at Rainier View RV Park in Graham, Washington—when we get there. I had to call to say we'd likely be a day late. Then I had to call and say we would probably arrive sometime between the 30^th and early August. They checked their scheduling and told me there's no problem. We are to simply get there when we can get there but just keep them informed. They're RVers, too. They understand.

Update: the inspector arrived and it looks like they are going to piecemeal the unit. Oh, goodie.