It's May!

First new filly of 2010...she's a little shy

Where did February, March and April go?

Posting the quote for the month was more for me than anyone. I am amazed that it is May and my last post was in January. It has been an eventful time, some good events and some not good events but that's the way life goes sometimes.

I went back to see where I left off and had to search my memory banks so that I can finish the story that I started last year. Last year...that's pretty pathetic. One of the frustrations of middle age for me is losing my short term memory. But I probably already told you that.

And now, the rrrrrest of the story.

When we left Scottsdale, early on a sun kissed desert morning, we were in a bit of a hurry to get home. We had been gone for nearly two months and John wanted to get back for a day or two of the Tattersall's fall sale and a Halloween party that we had been invited to at The Castle in Versailles. We took a shorter, off-Interstate route to I-40 that took us through some beautiful cactus covered mountain country. John pushed Mary over hill and dale until we got to I-40 and then we pelted toward Tucumcari, New Mexico to spend the night. When we arrived and got into our spot John opened the door and the steps came out (as they should) but when he closed the door and the steps retracted, they pulled all the way in but the motor kept working as though it didn't get the message that the steps were in as far as they could go. Now we were both doing the big exasperated sighs. And my list of things to write to Guaranty RV about was not only growing, it was taking form with lots of angry words.

The next morning we got up early and hit it again blasting across the panhandle of Texas and into Oklahoma. Each time we stopped the steps repeated their routine only adding another few seconds to the over zealous step motor. John was so worried that the motor would burn out again that he decided to get under Mary in one of those picnic areas in middle of nowhere in Texas. It was hot out and the wind was blowing like a blast furnace. He put on an old tee shirt, got down on the hot blacktop, scooted as far under as he could get (she sits pretty low) and took a look. He didn't see anything. When he got up he had tar all over his Wranglers (which I'm still trying to get out by the way) and his tennies. The tee shirt was toast. So for the rest of the way home we limited our stops as much as possible and locked the steps into the out position at fuel stops. He was going to pull the fuse on the steps but we realized that Guaranty and absconded with the mounting block that we bought in Indiana two months earlier (when the steps quit working) when we were on our way out West. Another thing to add to the list ("...and to add insult to injury you stole our bleeping mounting block!!").

We made it the rest of the way in without burning up the motor but when John took her over to Bluegrass RV the guy got under her and said, "They didn't connect the ground wire." Apparently it was just hanging there.

The letter was very cathartic to write. It included all of the details of the things that they said they fixed that they apparently either didn't fix or did a half assed job of fixing along with the totals of what we spent (tapping that total out on my handy little calculator drained the blood from my brain for a few minutes), copies of the invoices from the other RV repair places, vivid descriptions of the discoveries and experiences connected to their inept work, or lack thereof and a demand that they reimburse us for a percentage of the work that they did. Then I had to call them (after emailing and getting nowhere) to find out where to send the letter. Even a question as simple as "To what address do I send a letter of complaint?" took a day to sort out and I ended up with two different addresses. To their credit (or perhaps to mine) they did reimburse us for the amount that I requested.

Zorro Jones (Halloween 2009)

Sister Karen (carrying son of Zorro)

Over the winter we had a few things done to Mary. We got her CB fixed finally...it never has worked...and she developed an oil leak while taking her winter rest so she went to our local diesel repair in Lexington to have a gasket replaced. Before we left for our first trip (which we are taking as I type) John had a local guy wash and hand wax her so she was sparkling when we took her out of her six month storage and hit the road.

We had plans to go to Key West for a week toward the end of February but A.J. Bruwer had a terrible horse accident breaking his leg badly a few weeks before we were to leave. John agreed to work his horses until he got back up and going so we were grounded for the balance of the winter and into the spring months.

Due to selling the Florida house this was the first winter that we spent in Kentucky in several years and it was one of the snowiest winters in recent history (thank you Murphy). We griped and groused our way through it (February is suicide-watch month for me and March is for John) counting the days until the daffodils peeked through the frosty ground. I planted them in our front flowerbed last fall and I was out there examining the ground with a magnifying glass every day until I saw the very tips of green bravely poking out of the bark. Dancing on the sidewalk ensued. I know our neighbors thought I had lost it. I did.

The extent of UK basketball madness at our house

We had to cancel our semi-annual spring trip to Scottsdale as well which added fuel to our winter madness. To make matters worse we were offered tickets to the SEC Tournament in Nashville to watch the Cats play but couldn't find a room or a spot for Mary anywhere in the vicinity. We were totally feeling sorry for ourselves by that time. We spent the winter living from basketball game to basketball game (and thanks to the Johnson's we got to go to two of them). It kept us away from bridges and gave us a reason to see it through. Then I got a call from my sister Linda in Oregon telling me that my Dad was sick and had just been admitted to the hospital.

My Dad (C.B. Fish) and step mother Barbara (in the middle) photographed with some bikers they met on one of their RV adventures (I come by it naturally!)

For nearly a week I got regular reports about his condition all the while we all were thinking and being led to believe by the doctors that he would get better. He didn't. We lost him on March 9th. He was 81. He had a wonderful life, an incredibly sweet and kind man, and when he passed on he was surrounded by all of his children and people who loved him. On March 13th I was getting ready to come home to Kentucky and looking forward to it when John called me and told me that Vic Arcuri (Tim's brother) had passed away. He was just 62. Vic had been sick for some time so we knew it was coming but it was tough none the less. He was a great guy with an open heart and a big warm smile for everyone he met. He had requested that John be a pall bearer so I changed my flight and booked John a flight out to Oregon. A week later, after the funeral we both came home.

I find that losing people you love gives you an opportunity to reflect and refocus. Perspective on the quibbles and grumbles of daily life comes in a mega dose. I'll continue to make light of the little irritations of life but in the big picture I'm very much more appreciative of each day of a healthy and happy life and all of the wonderful people (and critters) in it.

On to happier things now.

We took a fun trip out to California in April. We went to Palm Springs and stayed at Villa Royale, a boutique hotel which was Sonja Hennie's house back in the golden age of Hollywood. It was such a delightful spot. We spent two days with Arcuri's at their home in La Quinta which was fun (beautiful home and setting, great friends) and then we headed up to Santa Barbara for a couple of days at The Biltmore. That was almost indescribable. Historical, Spanish, luxurious, elegant, delicious, gracious...I could go on and on. What a treat!

Giant Fig tree at The Biltmore in Santa Barbara (John is standing under it)

Now we are in St. Paul, Minnesota. I'd post a photo but I don't have any yet (there's a reason for that). We left Lexington in Mary last Tuesday and drove up to Rock Island, Illinois for the night. We really didn't want to go through Chicago so we took the route through Iowa to I-35 and on in to St. Paul. On Wednesday we were doing great until we got half way through Iowa. I was comfortable in my seat reading when I felt Mary lurch to the right. I looked over at John and his jaw muscles were bulging. I looked out the window as Mary lurched to the right again. The trees looked like they had rubber trunks, swaying way over to the right and snapping back upright. "Wind," he said and sighed. We spent the next several hours being buffeted around the highway like the mammoth bread box that Mary morphs into in the wind. Just before we crossed over the Iowa, Minnesota border we heard a huge THUMP. We looked at each other. "What was that?" I asked. John didn't answer. It was quiet. Mary kept going. I knew we would figure it out sooner or later.

We've come a long way from our first adventure in Mary when a THUMP would have put us in a panic and on the side of the road!

The Biltmore

They are doing road construction on I-35 in Minnesota and in places had us on a two lane road with truck and trailer rigs ripping by us going the opposite direction. With the wind blowing and the wake from the trucks Mary was nearly unmanageable. John said that if he didn't have to be in the ring judging the next day that he would pull her over for the night. It really was that bad.

We got directions to the fairgrounds from Guy Warner. We arrived in Minneapolis at 5:00 and promptly got trapped in traffic and more road construction. I could see that the pilot was past tired. Finally we pulled into the fairgrounds where Guy met us. When I opened the door he said, "Are you aware that you are missing an air conditioner shroud?" The THUMP. "I knew something was wrong," I said as I got out and strained on my tip toes to see on top of the coach. I informed John and he used the appropriate expletives and then called Monaco. The guy there told him that the air conditioner would need to be covered with some plastic so that it wouldn't leak in case it rained. It has rained every day since then. And that's why I don't have any photos!

I got on the internet and looked up the local Walmart. We put the dogs in the car and took off in search of the Walmart. I stayed in the car while John shopped for plastic. He said he had duct tape (:-) ...gorilla tape actually and we have scissors so he crawled up on Mary and went to work. Unfortunately he didn't have his glasses on when he bought the plastic. He thought he got 7 MIL which would be very heavy plastic. In fact he had bought .7 MIL which is about the thickness of the plastic that they cover your clothes with at the dry cleaners. Exasperated from trying to manage the flimsy plastic on top of Mary in 45 mile an hour wind gusts he came down and said he got some on and asked if I would go and get some heavier plastic Thursday while he was judging. No problem. Then we had a scotch.

The next day I looked on the Internet for a Super Target. I needed to get a few forgotten food items and the plastic so that seemed to be the best place to go. I loaded Breezy and Ransom, set Genius (GPS) and he chattered at me until I found the Target store. I got a basket and went to work with my list. As I was shopping I was catching parts and pieces of conversations between other shoppers and clerks. I stopped at one point and smiled. "Fargo", I thought. There is a distinct lilt in the accent up here that left me feeling like I had traveled to a foreign country. At one point I realized that I just plain couldn't understand most of what was being said and I'm usually the one who is translating accents for everyone else. Like the mid-south the people up here are very friendly and helpful or very intense and serious, not much in between. People must feel somewhat the same way as I did when visiting Kentucky or the Carolina's for the first time!

It's Saturday and I just took John over to do his job for the evening performance. The fairgrounds is quite nice and the dogs have a great place to play if the weather would ease up. We bought Ransom and Breezy a new Frisbee to play with and kept the old one so that they each can have one to play with when we go out. I figured that would solve the problem of Ransom getting the Frisbee and running off with it. Unfortunately they both want the old one. We both threw the new one and they just looked at us like we were daft and then bounced around us trying to get the old one out of my hand. It is warped, permanently dirty and full of tooth holes but that's the one that they want. Dogs are like kids in many ways. Favorite binky, favorite blanket, no matter how worn and beat up they are. So for awhile I guess we will have to take the new one, leave the old one in the coach and let them maul the new one until it has the right scent, shape and texture to be pleasing. And Breezy will have to wait for Ransom to stop running around gloating when he gets the Frisbee.

As many of you know (most of you probably because I think John has told everyone in the Universe) I wrote a book. It is a work of fiction called "Silent Partner". I started it in 2005, finished the original manuscript in 2007, and have edited it to death. I'm on my third laptop since I started it...which may be a testament as to how long it took to finish or may be a statement on how hard I am on computers. Not sure which. What I know is that I could write a book about writing the book! Anyway, it is currently being professionally edited and will be in print and available on Amazon.com sometime in July if all goes well. I'm about to create a new blog for "Silent Partner" where I will detail my experiences with writing, publishing and marketing my project as well as posting excerpts from the book and other information. At this point I am planning on a website for it as well but I'm going to start with the blog being as I'm pretty comfortable with this format.

As soon as I have an address for it I'll post it here. I hope you will check it out! And I'll be back with more adventures on the road!

Arizona

Leaving the Arcuri's farm in October

It's nearly the end of January. Where does the time go? I swear that yesterday it was Christmas!

When I left you we were on our way to Arizona for the Carousel Charity Horse Show. We left Springfield following Tim and Jeanne Arcuri in their new Monaco Dynasty pulling a pretty new four horse trailer with three horses aboard. They have had coaches before but not for a long time so they were feeling a little like we were two years ago when we picked up Mary in Wakarusa. Well maybe not that bad but coach technology has come a million miles in ten years. They are user friendly even to those who have zero experience with one. We can attest to that!

Mt. Shasta from the road

We followed the Arcuri's down to Mt. Shasta. It was a spectacular day and the Mountain was just breathtaking. We stopped at a rest area so that they could water the horses and we took the dogs out for a spin. The next part of the trip was through the mountain pass at Mt. Shasta so we parted company. They planned to drive through to Scottsdale and we planned to stop for the night. Besides, John is not a great follower. He leads well but following makes him a little tense. Once we were on the road we made great time. We spent the night outside of Redding and the next morning we were off to Needles. That is a fairly long haul and we weren't going to get in until late so I made a reservation at the KOA in Needles where we stayed once before. A great thing about KOA is that after hours they will leave the space number and instructions on the door when you pull in.

As planned we arrived around 8:30. It was dark and I had the directions to the KOA off of their website (very simple) but we had also programed the GPS (Genius I call it) with the address. The directions didn't match. So in the dark along the freeway I am telling John that the exit is upcoming and he is looking at Genius and telling me that it isn't for another few miles. We are both tired and cranky. He says, "What do I do?" I said something to the effect that Genius would win out over KOA anyway so follow Genius. Silence fell as we drove by the exit that the KOA website said to take (which also had one of those little yellow KOA tent signs on it saying "KOA THIS WAY"). It occurred me as we were driving in the dark that Genius sent us the direction that we left the KOA the last time we were there, which caused me to breathe again and stop painting disaster scenarios in my mind. We saw the familiar palm trees and the lights on the entry to the park but when we made the turn into the park I lost the feeling of familiarity. We pulled up to the office looking for the night box when a man in shorts with his hair standing straight up came out waving his arms at us. A strange conversation ensued. They had no record of our reservation but thankfully they still had a spot available. Being as we were bleary eyed we were grateful for that and he guided us in. It wasn't until we were parked and plugged in that we all realized that this was NOT the KOA but a park right next door. When you reserve a space on the KOA website and don't give them 24 hours notice they charge you for the space. In the end we didn't care. We were tired and just wanted to get set up, get something to eat and go to bed. When John said to the guy, "You must get a lot of business this way" the guy replied that they don't have to advertise but just rely on people getting lost. Okay...

Following Arcuri's trailer over Oregon pass

The next morning we got up really early and got ready to go. One of the last things I do before we go is to close the slides. Everything went well until I closed the bedroom slide on the driver's side. It's the one that the bed is attached to. Of the four slides on this coach all are hydraulic except the one with the bed which is run by an electric motor. What the reasoning is behind that I'm not sure but it's a fact. I hit that slide button last and when it got to the closed position I heard something go SNAP! My stomach sank. I stared at the button debating whether I dare try to move the slide out again. The part of me that can live in denial said "LEAVE IT ALONE". The other part that must know said, "PUSH THE BUTTON". I had a rousing 15 second argument with myself. The must-know part won. I pushed the "Slide Out" button and I heard the motor running but the slide wasn't moving. About that time John came in from checking the car's hookups and announced that all was well and we were ready to go. "Not quite," I said. "What's wrong?" he asked. I gave him the run down. He tried the button himself. I know that probably doesn't make any sense but I've done that. There is something in our brains that says that if I push the button instead of you pushing the button it will somehow miraculously work. Sometimes it does. But not this time. We found the small miracle in the fact that the thing died while the slide was in. If it was out it would have been an entirely different scenario.

On the road to Scottsdale

So we hit the road and John got on the phone with Monaco to find a repair place in Scottsdale. They gave us the name of a place called RV Renovators in Mesa. John made the call and they said that they would be happy to work on Mary when we got there which according to Genius would be around 2:30 in the afternoon.

We decided to take a different route to the Phoenix area this time. We took an exit toward Lake Havasu. The road was perfect and the scenery was beautiful. There was very little traffic (the sun was just coming up) and we hummed along until we got to the Lake. I didn't actually see the London Bridge but I saw all of the signs to it. My biggest surprise was how large the Lake is and how much of a city has sprung up around it. It is a beautiful spot!

We drove and drove and drove until we hit Interstate 10 and drove on in to Mesa. Genius guided us into Mesa and we found RV Renovators. John parked and went in to talk to them about our slide problem. He returned with a nice guy named Eddie who took one look at Mary and said, "Your ride height isn't right"

Unfreakingbelievable.

Some Eastern philosophies say that in order to achieve peace in your life you need to give up the idea of being right all of the time. I truly did not want to be right about what my eyes were telling me. Being wrong would have been wonderful. In an effort to make myself wrong, a few days before we left Springfield I put an egg on the counter in the galley. I willed it to sit still. It rolled to the right side of the coach. "Funny shaped egg," I told myself.

John and Eddie went to work on the bed leaving ride height for later. They propped the air mattress up and looked in the compartment beneath the bed. There they found the motor. They tested it. Eddie said, "I've never seen this happen before." The shaft that runs through the motor that turns the gears that moves the slide was broken in two. It is a half inch piece of steel rod and it just broke. Eddie went see if they had a motor that would fit. Before he left he told us not to hold out a lot of hope. Being as these things almost never break it was a long shot that they would have what we needed. The RV repair gods were smiling on us and he came back with a motor that fit! They spent some time installing it, closed up the bed and moved on to ride height. While Eddie was installing the motor John mentioned to him that we were having trouble getting the generator to turn over and that Guarantee looked at it but said they didn't know why either (hello?). Eddie said he would check it out after he fixed the ride height.

As it turns out the ride height measurement for Mary is supposed to be 9 inches on both sides. Any first grader would know that 9 inches on both sides is level. Eddie did the measurements and found that she was 8 on the right side and 10 1/2 on the left. Not only that, she had an "iffy" (according to Eddie) ride height valve. I tried to give Guaranty the benefit of the doubt but when I realized that she didn't pump herself up to ten and a half on the left all by herself that went out the window. An hour later she was level with a new valve. That was in October. In January she is still level. Thank you Eddie.

Next it was time to figure out why the generator had to be started with the booster switch. When we had it in the shop at Guaranty one of the things that they did (and charged us up the ying yang for) was to check the batteries. There are ten of them, eight house batteries and two chassis batteries. They said that they were corroded so they took them out, cleaned them up, painted the tray that they sit in and reinstalled them. Eddie decided to check on their work. He took his battery tester and put it on each of the batteries in the tray. He turned to John who was hovering over his shoulder. "Here. I want you to test them yourself." John took the battery tester and registered almost nothing...on all TEN batteries. They were shot. "That's why your generator isn't turning over," Eddie said. So they had to call their battery guy and have ten batteries delivered and installed. The clock was ticking along with my temper not to mention...ka-ching, ka-ching, the bills were stacking up. While they were waiting Eddie pulled the batteries out. John looked at the tray. I was sitting inside with Breezy and Ransom with the windows open (no air conditioning without juice) and heard John say, "The sonsabitches didn't even paint the tray!"

That's when I got the six page Guaranty receipt out of the file and started making notes on each of the supposed fixes. A letter was composing itself in my head. "Dear Guaranty Ripoff Center..." I was more furious about them putting us on the road with ten bad batteries than for charging us for work that never got done, being completely dishonest and idiots on top of it. At the end of the day (nearly 5:00) we handed them our now well used credit card, paid them for the labor and parts and drove away with a slide that worked, ten good batteries and a level coach. I also resolved to write a letter and send it with the documentation to Guaranty to request a refund of the charges on the items that they lied about. I would get some money out of them if it was the last thing I did on the planet.

So we managed to get through 5:00 traffic on the 101 in Phoenix and arrived at West World ready for dinner and a glass of wine. We set up (all slides worked) and met Tim and Jeanne who were settled in and ready to go to dinner. We went to our favorite haunt in Scottsdale, Earl's for a nice dinner. It's a cool restaurant with a great patio and an eclectic menu that is five minutes from West World. Earl's has done well by us in the last two years.

Mary and Arcuri's coach at West World

Really tired from the trip and time at RV Renovators we turned in early. When we travel at higher elevations the air bed changes to higher settings. If you are really high (and we have been at times) the elevation can pop the mattresses so I'm pretty diligent about checking them. I didn't think we went that high on our way into Scottsdale so I hadn't checked them during the day. This king sleep number bed has dual controls and they go from zero (flat) to 100 (like sleeping on a slab of granite). I got into bed and my setting was on 100. I grabbed the control unit and punched the button to move it back to 50 (my sleep number) but nothing happened. It didn't even light up. John came in and pulled the covers back to get in the bed when he saw the look of total exasperation on my face. "What's wrong?" he asked. "The controller is dead," I said. His response was a huge sigh. I said, "Never mind. We are too tired to figure this out tonight." So we slept (sort of). I think I would have been more comfortable on the dining table.

The next morning after breakfast we tackled the problem. John propped the bed up again and we looked at the new motor. It looked odd to me that there was a shaft sticking out of the thing that extended a good six inches beyond the motor itself. Nothing about that extension served a purpose. The plug for the mattress compressor was pulled out and lying on the floor next to the new motor. I picked it up and looked at it. The plug end was all bent. We discussed all of this and then John plugged it back in and we put the bed back together. John picked up the control and it was working. We decided to test the slide. We ran it in. The lights went out on the controllers again. Many expletives later we had the bed back up and were looking at the plug lying on the floor again. Then it dawned on both of us at the same time. The shaft coming out of the motor was knocking the plug out of the socket when we opened or closed the slide. Apparently this wasn't exactly the same motor that was in there before and when they were at RV Renovators they tested the slide but none of us considered that the controllers wouldn't work. So we brainstormed for fifteen minutes before John came to the conclusion that the simplest answer was to buy a hack saw and cut the shaft down to a size that would allow enough clearance to leave the plug in the socket.

"A hacksaw?"

He had that crazed "Tim The Tool Man Taylor" look on his face. There was no arguing.

In the short time that we had been at West World Tim had made at least ten trips to Home Depot for barn stuff and coach stuff. He loves Home Depot. John would call him and say, "Where are you?" He would hang up after a short conversation and say, "Tim's at Home Depot." My answer was always the same, "Again?" So he called Tim and explained what we figured out and Tim suggested that we all go to lunch (he also can eat more than 50 people and never gain an ounce) and then go to Home Depot for a hack saw. Over lunch Tim told John that he had to get a BIG hack saw so that he didn't hurt himself while sawing the half inch rod in two. John's eyes lit up. So off to Home Depot we went. Jeanne and I stayed in the car while the guys gleefully trotted off to the store. Fifteen minutes later they came back and John had the single most expensive, hugest hack saw that exists in the tool world. I just smiled and shrugged. "John The Tool Man Jones," I said to myself.

We got back to the coach and John commenced his project. He propped the bed up picked up his hack saw and in five short strokes the rod was cut in two. He put the bed back together and emerged from the bedroom triumphant. It took less than five minutes total. And it worked. The slide moves in and out without tearing the compressor plug out of the socket. And we both slept like dogs for the rest of the trip.

Early morning shot of West World

Next time I'll get into our trip back home. You would think after our lengthy list of repairs (and $$$$$$) along the road both out to Oregon and to Scottsdale that we good to go for the next two years. Not so. I'm happy to report that Mary is spending the winter in a large storage garage in Lexington and that as far as we can tell she is in perfect running order for our next adventure.

I hope your New Year is full of health, happiness and prosperity!

Of Mice and Men and Women

Okay. So I hate mice. A lifetime of working in barns and living in climates that drive mice indoors in the fall has left me with a near phobia of creatures that dash across the floor at the speed of light and without fail end up under the stove or refrigerator in the kitchen...conscious-less critters that seek only to terrorize, eat and poop. The only critters that I fear more are their super sized cousins, rats and the Godzilla of all rats, opossums.


Before I get on with the saga of rodent control in Mary I have to tell you a story that just jumped out of my memory bank. Several years back I took a major detour in career and decided to become a hair dresser. I met so many nice people and had so many fun experiences and a few not so fun ones. I probably could write a book about the things that happen when you stand behind the chair for a living but this one is a standout.


It was 1993. I had just begun my career and I was working for Jana, a really nice woman who owned a small three chair salon in St. Helens, Oregon, an old dying mill town that sits on the Columbia River and has a perfect view of Mt. St. Helens in Washington. The salon was at the far end of the downtown core. She also had a manicurist, Jackie who worked three days a week. It was August and the afternoon temperatures had been pushing to the mid-nineties all week. The little salon did not have air conditioning so we would prop open the front door and the back door to keep air circulating. If you stood in the front door you would look over a roll top desk into the salon area and from there into the back room where there was a washer and dryer, sink and storage for our supplies. It was a straight line of sight from the front door to the back door and probably only 25 feet or so.















View of Mt. St. Helens from Oregon


On a sweltering afternoon I had a break in my schedule so I went downtown to get a birthday gift for my sister. When I returned I parked outside on the street so I walked into the front of the salon. Jana was getting her nails done and she and Jackie were gabbing. I got to the front of the roll top desk when something caught my eye in the back room. The door was open in the back so it was well lit. The voice in my head whispered "rat". The hair stood up on my arms. "Ah...ah...ah..." I stuttered as both Jackie and Jana looked at me with puzzled expresions.
Apparently I had lost all color in my face and my eyes were standing out of my head. My brain replayed what I saw, a King Kong dark brown mouse...no a ra-ra-rat had just danced across the floor of the supply room. "RAT!" I screamed and before I knew what I was doing I was standing on the deck of the roll top desk with my little gift bag in my hand. Jackie jumped on her manicurist chair and Jana jumped into action. I was stunned to watch her march into the supply room and slam the door that separated the salon from the back room. Jackie and I looked at each other in complete and utter terror. We heard crashing and banging in the back room. Then it went quiet. The door opened and Jana came out with a broom in her hand. "He ran under the supply cabinet and I can't get him out," she said in a very calm tone. I was thinking that this was the bravest woman I ever met. In a quivering voice Jackie said, "I'll call Brad." That was her boyfriend. Inside of 20 minutes Brad arrived to save the day. He chased the filthy rodent out of the supply room and we all sat down and breathed a sigh of relief. It was quiet for a minute and then I said, "Does anyone find it odd that a rat showed up in the middle of the afternoon on a sunny day and decided to take refuge in a salon with no air conditioning?" We all looked at each other with blank expressions.


I went home that night and recounted my story to my ex who said, "I hope it wasn't rabid or something." Multiply a large number of those thoughtful sentiments by 13 years and you'll understand why he is my ex. I spent the night tossing and turning and having RABID RAT nightmares. The next morning I went to work.
















View of historic hotel in St. Helens


I had a 9:00 frost and haircut to do on a client who was Jana's best friend Jill (Jana didn't do color). Jill arrived and I draped her in a dark purple cape. She was eating a cup of vanilla frozen yogurt for breakfast. I put her frosting cap on and started pulling strands of hair through the cap with a crochet hook until she looked like a big purple cactus (frosts are not a pretty thing when you are doing them).


Jana came in and decided that it was getting too warm so she propped the front door open. I thought is was getting too warm too but given the events of the prior day I was willing to sweat it out. The waiting area which was situated by a large window in the front of the salon was full of white wicker furniture and was visible from where I was standing. Jana was on the phone at the desk while I was busy chatting with Jill when out of the corner of my eye I saw a rat run past the desk, make a hard left under the wicker couch and then ran the perimeter of the salon finally dashing into the back room. This happened so fast (and at the same time in slow motion) that I barely had time to register my disbelief in my what my eyes were seeing. I remember thinking that I was still asleep in my bed and this was part of my succession of "Willard" nightmares. Not possible my mind screamed as I recorded the vision of the hugest rat I had ever seen. Of course it was the only the second rat (in less than 24 hours) I had ever seen in person which probably added to the drama of the moment. He had to weigh 30 pounds if he was an ounce and had a tail that was at least 10 feet long. He was demonic gray with shark like beady eyes. And fangs. Big fangs. It's amazing what your mind can create when you are terrorized. Apparently while all of these thoughts were playing out in my head I again screamed "RAT!". I jumped on Jana's salon swivel chair (crochet hook in hand) where I moved around in slow circles trying not to fall off. On one of my trips around I caught a glimpse of Jill. I'll go to my grave with this picture in my head. She was standing on my salon chair (which I had locked so she wasn't spinning), her blond hair standing at attention (sticking out of the frosting cap), purple cape hanging to just below her knees with melted vanilla frozen yogurt streaming down the front of the cape. I think when flight syndrome kicks in still shots are forever emblazoned in your memory.


Okay, so the rat is in the back room and Jill and I are standing catatonic on the chairs. Jana calmly hangs up the phone and then runs to the back room and slams the door BEHIND her. We hear clattering and crashing and then heard the back door slam. Jana walks out and props the broom against the wall. "He's gone," she says. "Are you sure?" Jill and I chimed in unison. "Yeah," she says as Jill and I climb down from our perches. "How can you be so calm?" I asked her. She said, "I had a pet rat when I was a kid." I couldn't stop myself, "Jana, these are not pets. These are wild sewer rats roaming the streets in broad daylight. Something isn't right with this." I truly thought I was living out a horror movie script. With that I got on the phone and called the city of St. Helens. I explained about two rats in two days and asked if there is some reason that rats are roaming the streets. The nice woman said, "Oh yes. They are doing sewer blasting downtown and it is running the rats out of the sewer." I shivered. "Thank you," I said and hung up. The next week at work was pretty tense and very hot because pet rat or not I refused to agree to an open door policy in the salon until the blasting was done. I have not seen another rat since then (there is a God) but I've seen tons of mice.


So after I discovered that there had been a mouse in the drawer in Mary I took a deep breath and started opening drawers and cupboards throughout the galley. This mouse had been everywhere. I filled the sink with blazing hot water and soap, got the spray disinfectant and went to work cleaning and washing everything that was in the drawers and cupboards. This mouse actually ate the end off of the spatula that I used to make scrambled eggs! I declared war. And I needed a comrade to do the tough stuff. John. Two hours later we loaded up and went to the local grocery store and bought four of the old fashioned mouse traps and a jar of peanut butter. We bought two containers of D-Con which I hate because I'm always afraid that a mouse will eat it, go outside and die and a bird will eat the mouse and die. Besides, I hate mice with a purple passion but that stuff is poison and not a quick kill. But I agreed to use D-Con as a last resort. John set two traps (not before tons of snapping traps and cussing) inside of the cupboards and put two in the bays of the coach. He said, "Now what?" I said, "You will need to check your trap line every couple of hours or so." He cracked up. "Trap line?" Oh yes, this is serious business.


Later we were getting ready to go out to dinner. It was about 5:00 and as I was rearranging my hair I heard the trap in one of the cupboards snap. "Got one!" I hollered. John came out of the bathroom. "Where?" he asked. "In the cupboard." He slowly opened the pan cupboard. He closed the door again. "He's still in the throws," he said. "I'll get him out before we leave." The goosebumps made their now now routine trek up and down my arms. One of the bad things about having a mouse in a confined area is that I'm sure I see them dashing EVERYWHERE. I'm constantly jumping out of my shoes because I'm sure I saw one running across the floor. Most often it is my paranoid mind. I sat down with Ransom and we had a talk. "Now I know your heritage is part rat terrier and mice are probably beneath you but if you see one..." Ransom slept through the entire mouse experience.
















Recipient mouse pasture at dusk

John disposed of the dead mouse (my hero), reset the trap and we went to dinner. When we got back I got the dogs and took them for a walk while he checked his trap line. As I as coming back I saw him coming out of the coach with a trap in each hand, dead mouse in each trap. THREE MICE. He jettisoned the mice into the pasture and then pulled the traps out of the bays. Two more dead mice. FIVE MICE. They must have put the word out to the entire mouse population of Springfield! I could see the bulletin: "Calling all mice! There is a giant luxury motor coach located at 37691 Upper Camp Creek Road. It's heated and there is FOOD for the winter. Only two freaked out humans and two lazy dogs. Come one, come all!"


We killed off an entire family of mice that night. The word of the massacre must have spread like wildfire through the mouse community on Camp Creek Road because after the initial five mice we didn't find another mouse in the traps and no sign anywhere close to it. Before we folded our tent and headed for Arizona we had a former employee of Monaco Coach come and help John replace a torn awning, adjust the entry door and work on the air compressor that levels the coach when it is parked. We were satisfied that Mary was fixed. Boy were we in for a surprise.


I have to tackle a list of things to do for Christmas. If all goes well I'll be back soon to fill you in on our adventure to Arizona! I hope the holiday season has been fun for all of you so far! And HAPPY WINTER SOLSTICE!!! The days get longer from here! YAY!!!

Chapter Two

Okay Brookie. Here we go. Your suite is spotless and ready for a visit by the way :-)

Perfect day on the Oregon Coast

When I left you we were having a perfectly wonderful dinner at King Estate Winery with the Arcuri family. The following morning we loaded up our coaches (they just took possession of a new Monaco Dynasty...beautiful thing!) and headed to the Oregon coast. Last year John and I spent two days at Outdoor Resorts in Newport. It was where Ransom found freedom from the leash for the first time since we adopted him and is without question the nicest RV resort that we've been to anywhere. Once again we had perfect weather and a beautiful view of the ocean, lighthouse and coastal range. And great company! John, Ryan and Tim played horseshoes, we all walked on the beach and the dogs all had a blast.

Horseshoes on the coast

On Tuesday we got up and drove back over the Coast Range to Junction City to drop off both coaches at Guaranty RV Service. Tim and Jeanne's coach needed work on the satellite television and Mary had a long list of issues that had piled up over the nearly two years that we have had her. As we traveled I compiled the list. At the bottom I added, "Vibration in center of coach." John read the list and when he got to the bottom he gave me the skeptical look. I honestly felt like a terrible nag about the whole thing so I told him that if they look and don't find anything I will shut up about it. Then I added that I KNOW something is wrong because all of that shaking isn't normal for any vehicle. Okay. So we pulled into the Guaranty parking lot and a nice man named Dean arrived with his clipboard to go over our list. One by one he jotted the issues down on his sheet. When John got to the vibration issue I almost cringed. John said, "My wife says...and I know she is probably right but...she says that there is a vibration in the back when we are traveling down the road. I can't feel it but she says it vibrates." Dean immediately said, "I believe you have a ridite issue." Puzzled I asked, "What is ridite??" He smiled. "Ride height," he said. "When I walked up to your coach I saw that it is leaning hard to the right. When it isn't level it torques the drive line and you can experience a severe vibration." I had to smirk. I really tried not to but I just had to. And I was immensely relieved that I hadn't lost my mind and imagined the shaking. He told us that leveling the airbags would probably take care of the problem.

Sidebar: I drove the Mercedes home from Florida in July when we sold the house. I followed John, Mary and the Camry roughly 900 miles from Vero Beach to Lexington and a couple of times I mentioned that it looked as though the coach was leaning to the right. I didn't get a response. I mentioned it again when I looked at her parked in her spot at the farm. "The ground isn't level." Okay. I mentioned it again when we left for our trip and I drove behind her to hook up the car in Indiana. I got a scowl so I didn't mention it again until we got to Joseph and I followed her into the campground. "It's really leaning to the right." I was also pointing out that there was a severe banging noise in the engine so the "leaning to the right" thing fell on deaf ears.

So we got into the Camry and drove to the Arcuri's farm where they so graciously put us up for the three days that it was supposed to take to fix Mary's laundry list of problems. Dean also said that they would do a free roof inspection while they had her there. Great!

Three days later we were headed for Junction City again, not to pick up the coach but to pick up some more clothes because they didn't expect to have the work done for another three days. When we arrived Mary was in the shop. We got our things and left, planning to spend part of the upcoming weekend at the Arcuri's home in Terrebonne, Oregon with some friends of theirs. We expected to pick Mary up when we got back. John called first thing on Monday morning. She still wasn't done but he was assured that the work would be done very soon. "How soon is very soon?" I asked. He frowned and said, "I don't know but they better get it done SOON".

In the next three days John's mission was to harass Dean at Guaranty to get the work done on the coach and get it back to us. I know he called at least three times a day. Every time he called he got another reason why the work that yesterday was "being done right now" was actually not done and there were still five things left to do. It was frustrating and bordering on ridiculous.

Pocket Arcuri

Nine days as house guests of the Arcuri's was making us feel like freeloaders (they were so gracious) not to mention the problem with Ransom and Andy the cat. Ransom being the little ratter that he is just can't resist chasing things that will run (remember the rabbit up in Pennsylvania?). Well Andy is a wise old black cat who lives in the house full time. Arcuri's have several dogs, one of which lives in the house (her name is Pocket and she doesn't have any teeth) and Pebbles, a highly energetic Border Collie type who sleeps in the kennel but is a house dog when Jeanne is home. So Andy gets dogs. But neither Ransom nor I knew that.

So the first day we moved into the guest room Jeanne was gone and I was busy unpacking with the guest room door open when out of the corner of my eye I saw Ransom and Andy squaring off. Ransom was locked on and Andy's hair was standing up on his arched back. Arcuri's house is a multi-level home with lovely hardwood floors throughout and lots of small landings and steps. The guest room was at the top level and the master bedroom and living room at the bottom level. I opened my mouth to warn Ransom to leave the cat alone but before I could utter a sound he took off after Andy. I jetted after the two of them, hollering "RANSOM YOU STOP NOW!!!" but before I could catch up with them they disappeared into the master bedroom. All I heard was the sound of Ransom's toenails on the hardwood and Andy's growl and then it was quiet. "Ransom!!!" I hollered repeatedly. Still dead quiet. I had visions of him with nothing but Andy's tail hanging out of his mouth as I stormed through the bedroom looking for him. I found him cowering in the walk-in closet and Andy was no where to be found. "Get your little ratter ass out of this closet!" I pointed at the door and he scampered out and made a dash for the guest room.

Ransom "Ratter-Catter" Jones

I couldn't find Andy. I was panicked. Where was the poor cat? Was he permanently traumatized by my prison-escapee dog? How would I explain this to the Arcuris?

A little later I went out to the kitchen to fill the dog water bowl and there was Andy sitting on the top of the breakfast bar. If I didn't know better I would say that he was smiling. I looked him over and he looked fine.

When Jeanne got home I explained what happened and how sorry I was that Ransom behaved so badly. She just laughed. And laughed some more. Then she explained that if Andy didn't want to be chased he would have held his own with Ransom. I thought she was being polite. The Ransom/Andy scene played itself out two more times in the next two days. I was mortified. Finally I was home when Jeanne brought Pebbles in the house. Pebbles is about the size of Breezy but a little lighter weight. She and Andy went to boxing and playing with Pebbles knocking Andy around and then Andy smacking Pebbles around. After that I would keep Ransom with me and Andy would come around and tease Ransom. I know he knew that Ransom would get into trouble if he chased him and that became the game for Andy...get Ransom in trouble. He succeeded on several more occasions before we got Mary back.

Finally the day came to pick Mary up. We were both so happy. She would be all fixed and we would have our space back and not have to be under foot at Arcuri's house. I drove John over to Guaranty and followed him back to the farm. After we pulled out on to Hwy 99 a little voice said, "The coach is still listing to the right." I said out loud, "Shut up. It's fine." We got on the freeway and the voice came back. "It's not level." I shook my head hard to silence what my eyes and brain were telling me. We parked her and moved back in. It felt great. The next day I got out and looked at her from behind. Not level. But I wasn't going to say anything.

Arcuri's left for the Morgan Grand Nationals in Oklahoma City a few days later and John took over working the Saddlebreds and a few of the Morgans that were left at home until they got back. One day I went to town to get groceries and when I came back I found John sitting in front of Mary with a completely dejected look on his face. I got out of the car. "What's the matter?" I asked. "I"m beat. I'm whipped. I can't deal with this anymore," he said as he led me around to the driver's side of the coach and pointed up to the top. "Look," he said slump shouldered. I squinted and when I saw what he was pointing at I felt weakness in my knees. The roof is put on the coach like a cap with the edges attached six or eight inches down the side and then covered with a bead. From the middle of the cap on the driver's side all the way to the back (keep in mind she is 42 feet long) the cap had pulled away from the coach. There was a big space between where it used to be attached and where it was now located. It appeared to me that the cap was coming off. More visions of disaster loomed in my mind. Cap peeling off...water getting into the sides of the coach...thousands and thousands of dollars worth of damage. I said in a weak voice, "It might not be as bad as it looks," while my internal doomsday voice screamed, "This thing is going to bankrupt us!!!". John made some calls to try to figure out what in the hell was happening but in the end we were left with only one option. Guaranty...again. Dean was kind and said to bring her in first thing in the morning and he would look at her. When we sat down for dinner that night I looked across the table at John and said, "Gee, I'm sure glad that they did that free roof inspection. They resealed the skylight over the shower (the one that our coach washer stepped through and broke in March) for $650.00 but missed the fact that the f**king roof is peeling off." It was a lost night for sleep.

The following morning I followed him back to Guaranty again making note of the fact that the coach was not level. When we arrived Dean came out, looked at the roof and told us not to panic, that it may not be as bad as it looked. By this time I had brought up the fact that they needed to check the ride height again so Dean made note of it and we left to go back to the farm. John worked horses that day and then we got the call. It truly was not as bad as it looked. They blamed it on Monaco for not putting long enough screws in to attach it securely. They also said that they checked the ride height and it was fine.

"No it isn't," the voice in my head said. "Just shut the hell up," I said back. "This thing is going to drive me into the nut house before it is over," I said to my other voice. No shit.

View from Mary at Arcuri's farm

We settled in for two really beautiful weeks on the farm. The weather was so cooperative and the fall colors were stunning. I got to see lots of my family and friends and we just enjoyed the stay so much. And then it happened.

A day before we were supposed to pick Arcuri's up at the airport I got up in the morning and did my usual thing. I started the coffee, took the dogs out for a spin and fed them. When I opened the utensil drawer to get the can opener out I froze. Goose bumps ran up my arms. "Uh oh." John was sipping his tea and his head snapped around. "What is it?" I stepped back and pointed to the drawer. "We have a mouse." He must have been sleepy because he asked me an odd question. "What do we do about that?" I looked at him and said, "I don't know about you but I'm moving out." I slammed the drawer shut and willed my goose bumps to go away. They weren't cooperating.

I have a long history of mouse encounters. They are not my favorite creatures in the world. To say that I loathe mice is the understatement of the universe. They are filthy, can get in anywhere, will eat anything and poop all over EVERYTHING.

I'll stop here and take up with the mouse saga next time. I hope you had a wonderful Thanksgiving!

Rx for the RV

Wallowa Lake, Joseph, Oregon

We left Kentucky the day before the All American Cup in Indiana, early in September. We stopped there to see the weanling class and then raced across Interstate 80 to Oregon. We only slowed down when we got to Utah and decided to smell the roses a bit on our way to Arcuri's farm.

We began having a few problems with Mary in the summer, like the motorized steps on the entry door quit working and a dozen other little things. She was due for several systems services so we made an appointment with Guaranty RV's service department in Junction City, Oregon for September 22. More on Guaranty later.

Chilling in Joseph

We were on a bit of a timeline to get to Oregon because we were due to be in Springfield on the 18th of September for Jeanne Arcuri's birthday and wanted to stop in Joseph, Oregon to see my aunt and uncle not to mention a weekend trip to the coast with a return on Monday so we could drop Mary off for her repairs. The day before we left Kentucky a bolt vibrated out of one of the big fan belts and Mary had to be rushed to the local diesel repair shop to be fixed. That's when they discovered a squeak in the other belt but told us that it would hold until we arrived in Oregon. It did hold...but it squealed every second of our trip across the country. It drove me nuts so I can only imagine how the dogs felt about all of the noise. John is effectively deaf to high pitched noises so he drove blissfully while I took pain reliever for the headache.

Deer totally unconcerned by our presence

Most RV parks and parking areas have the name and number of a mobile RV repair person (I'm learning that there is very good reasoning behind that) so when we were at the Indiana Fairgrounds we paid a guy to come out and see if he could fix our steps. John had purchased a mounting block (for non-equine types this is a molded plastic set of steps that you can use to get on a horse) from Chuck at World Champion's mobile tack unit. It is a rather giant step up and/or down from Mary without steps. Anyway, the repair guy came and spent a few minutes and then told us that they didn't work. We knew that. And that would be $153.00 please. An RV tip: Some of the guys that service the RV parks are really good and reasonably priced...some aren't. So John stowed the red plastic mounting block in a bay and had to jump out and get them set at the door so the dogs could negotiate getting in and out. We were pretty proud of the whole step idea...pain in the ass or not.

So we were driving along Interstate 80 after we left Indianapolis listening to the fan belt squeal when we both heard a beeping noise. John searched the cockpit area for the source of the warning noise and spotted a red light on the dash board with tiny letters that said "Step Out". We looked at each other and both of our eyes bugged at the same time. I dove onto the right side of the dash board to look in the side mirror to see if somehow the step motor had started while we were driving and they were indeed hanging out there at 70 miles per hour. There are rather dire warnings in "The Bible" (the Monaco users manual) about traveling with the steps out and what the ensuing damage would be to the side of the coach if they got hung up on something at high speeds. They paint a vivid picture for you. John kept asking me, "Are they out?" and I kept answering "No, I don't see any steps." We repeated that question and answer cycle as the beeping continued until I looked at him in total exasperation. "NO. THE STEPS ARE NOT OUT," I said. "We better pull over," he replied. "Fine," I said and plopped down in the co-pilot's seat. It turned out that the motor was trying to work but didn't have enough umph to push them all the way out. In order to stop the beeping he took duct tape (yes, he really put duct tape on the outside of the coach) on the steps.

Remember when the water bay door handle broke off in his hand when we were in Oregon last year and he had to spend hours trying to figure out how to get the door open and when he finally did he came in to announce his success and the weight of him stepping into the coach jarred the bay door and it fell shut again? Well the bay door handle broke again when we were spending the weekend at a national park in Kentucky in early August. Anymore when he says, "You're not going to believe this," I brace myself. So he figured out how to keep the bay door closed with a bungee cord. Once again we had a light on the dash board and a beeping noise telling us that there was a bay door open all the way from Western Kentucky to Lexington. When these things happen I hear a lot of big sighs and I know we are in for a lot of roadside stops for adjustments. He ordered a new handle (probably should buy them by the dozen) and it was delivered to us in Lexington. He couldn't find anyone to put it on so we drove across the country with a bungee cord holding the door closed. The water bay is where you empty the holding tanks so the bungee cord got a pretty good workout from Kentucky to Oregon.

Once the bay door was secured we decided that the repair could wait until we got to Oregon and Guaranty RV service could do the tricky work of replacing the door handle. Before we would have relied on our friends at Monaco Coach but they went broke (yep), reorganized, sold the company and reopened recently but don't have their service department up to speed yet.

Our last stop before heading to Oregon was Louisville for the World Championship Horse Show for a week. For that show we take two cars because I travel back and forth from the KOA to home to water the plants and pick up the mail during the week. So John took off with the coach and the Camry and I came about an hour later with the 4-Runner and the dogs. When I arrived at the KOA he met me outside of the coach. "You're not going to believe this," he says. My shoulders slumped. "What now?" I asked. "The front passenger-side slide out won't slide OUT," he said. So we piled into the coach (the steps still worked at that point) and he said, "See," and pushed the button that extends the slide. I heard the motor working and the front part of the slide was sliding but the back bottom part wasn't and at a certain point it was torquing the entire slide. I waved madly, "STOP!". I had visions of a badly bent slide out and massive repairs. Of course every man in KOA who noticed that we were having a problem wanted to conference with John about it and every time they thought they could help if they could just see it work so the torquing went on three more times before my nerves couldn't take it anymore. When that happens I must get a particular look on my face because I looked at John and he said, "Okay. I'll stop." We decided that we needed to find someone to look at it. As it turned out the KOA had the name of a repair guy who moonlights from his day job at an RV agency. John called him and scheduled him for the next day when he was going to be showing a horse to someone. The guy showed up on time and he was pleasant and I explained what the slide was doing. He tried it and when it started to torque he stopped and said, "That's not good." No kidding.

So the repair guy opened a low cupboard, removed a panel in the back of it and peered into the area where the slide's mechanical parts are located. His pointed his flashlight this way and that saying, "Humm," and "Wow," and "Weird," until I couldn't take it anymore. "WHAT do you see in there?" I asked. "The entire thing just fell apart," he said. "Fell apart?" I replied. "Yep. It looks like it just VIBRATED loose and the hardware in on the floor," he said as he contorted himself into a pretzel and retrieved the parts. In 30 minutes it was back together and working. I wrote him a check for $112.00, he threw in an adjustment to the shower door and was on his way. He was a good RV repair guy.

View from the tram going up to Mt. Howard

As you probably noticed I emphasised "VIBRATED" twice in the last few paragraphs. This would be because since last spring when we left Florida for Arizona I've been noticing and complaining (which turned into pleading and then into nagging) about a bad vibration in the body of the coach when we are traveling. I spend a good deal of time in the front doing my navigational duties and enjoying the scenery but every so often I make a trip to the back to grab a snack or use the bathroom and when I do I notice a serious vibration. The cushions on the couch vibrate off and the silverware in the drawer rattles and the dining table bounces to the point where I can't keep my fingers on the keyboard of my computer. Once I tried to lay down in the back and it was like someone started one of those old Magic Fingers machines that you used to get in hotel rooms (drop a quarter in and your bed vibrated until you nose itches). I've mentioned this vibration often enough that it has been looked at twice, wheels and tires and alignment checked and each time they have told us that there is nothing wrong with the coach.

Right.

Our first pleasant discovery on our journey was a small town called Garden City in Utah. It is the home of Bear Lake and the area and the lake are spectacular. We spent the night at the local KOA where we thought we would enjoy a peaceful evening. When we pulled in there were mostly empty spaces and after sleeping along I-80 for two nights we were ready for some peace and quiet. So we got set up and I made dinner and after dinner as I was finishing up the dishes John came in and told me that he had set up our chairs outside and suggested that I come out and enjoy the evening. That sounded like a great idea so I finished tidying up and stepped into the doorway. Before I could get one foot on the mounting block to exit the coach I discovered that John was visiting with two guys that were parked next to us. One was holding an adorable little puppy. I stopped in the doorway and sat down while they talked about their trips out west and told us about their puppy. They were very nice but extremely chatty and before it was over was giving them the tour of Mary, who wasn't as neat as I would prefer for guests. Just my neurosis at work. When they said goodnight and left it was dark out and I realized that I never did get out of the coach. John put the chairs away for our early morning departure and we went to bed.

One view from Mt. Howard

Another RV tip: If you value your privacy you probably don't want to buy a coach or fifth wheel unless you own your own remote RV pad somewhere. RVers love to share their experiences and

So we left the next morning and had a beautiful drive through the mountains, down through Logan and onto Interstate 84 on our way to Joseph. We decided to stop in Baker City, Oregon for the night and then drive the three hours or so to Joseph the next day. While we were in Baker City we discovered that the rubber around Mary's windshield had popped out on the driver's side. John fixed that and we were off to Joseph.

Joseph, Oregon is probably one of the prettiest, most peaceful places I've been in my life. I grew up in Oregon but Joseph (former home of the Nez Perce Indians) is way up in the northeast corner of the state. I managed to get into my 30's before I ever made a trip up there. They say it looks as much like Switzerland as anyplace in the U.S. We arrived at the far end of Wallowa Lake and located the RV park where Mary was going to stay for two nights. It was a nice park but VERY tight to get around in with that big bus. John snaked around until we had to stop and take the car off so that he could negotiate the turns into her space. When I jumped out of the coach (no red steps) the first thing I heard was a loud banging noise coming from Mary's engine. Once she was parked I mentioned it to John, who really wasn't in the mood to hear about any more problems with Mary. He just groaned. Then he listened. And then he groaned again. "Add it to the list," he said.

We spent to wonderful days in Joseph. We took the tram up to the top of Mt. Howard, a 15 minute ascent and the longest tram ride in America (seriously). We ate lunch at the top at the Summit Cafe and took photos from various view points. Twice we hiked up to a gorgeous waterfall with the dogs and took in the incredible mountain air and the sheer beauty of the lake and surrounding mountains. We also took a tour of Valley Bronze, a local foundry that produces the work of sculptors from around the world. It was fascinating to learn the painstaking process of creating a mold that will reproduce long hours of work by the artists. Artists themselves, the foundry workers are pleasant and forthcoming with answers to questions about how the work is done. And then I got to see my aunt and uncle who live a good hour and a half north of Joseph. They own 80 acres in a beautiful valley that snows in during the winter. They have lived off of the grid for 15 years (way before it was popular to talk about much less do), growing a lot of their own food and enjoying a life in an area that is nearly untouched by civilization as most of us know it. We had fun catching up with them over lunch in the little town of Joseph.

Larger than life size bronzes outside Valley Bronze

From there we loaded up and headed down the Columbia River Gorge to Portland to visit with my 81 year old father. Mary squealed and banged all the way down the River, which was every bit as spectacular to me as the first time I experienced it. I just marvel at the sheer size of it as it works its way down to the Pacific Ocean. We arrived to a cloudy and rainy evening in Aurora. We grilled steaks in the rain and had a few scotches and had a wonderful visit with Dad before we turned out the lights and attempted to sleep to the sounds of Interstate 5 and a nearby trucks stop. Translation: Not much sleep. In the morning we took off for Springfield for two days at the Arcuri's farm and a birthday celebration at King Estate Winery with the Arcuri family. This establishment is difficult to describe without using "Wow" a lot. The winery sits on top of a giant hill where in any direction you look you see grape vines rolling and snaking over hills. The food was fabulous, the wine wonderful and the company was the best. We sat outside and the weather cooperated to the fullest with mild, shirt sleeve temperatures all the way into a moonlit evening. It was just...wow!

And like a total moron I forgot my camera.

I'll end the post here and take up again with our trip to the Oregon Coast the day after our wonderful dinner at King Estate Winery and tell you about Mary's visit(s) to Guaranty RV. To give you a hint I'm still dealing with Guaranty RV and we have been in Lexington since just before Halloween. And I'll fill you in on how the mystery of the VIBRATION was finally solved.

Travel Log Coming

Fall at Arcuri's farm

Shame on me for not keeping this blog up during our trip out west! We traveled through 13 states and were away for 8 weeks. We visited the mountains, the coast, the valley and the desert. We had a wonderful time and some interesting experiences. I had some problems with my air card so Internet connections were a problem which makes publishing this blog a pain but now I'm home and I will get it caught up!

Arcuri's farm in Springfield