Missing so much and so much?
-Francis Cornford
In the morning--I think it was that morning--Zack was feeling so good that he actually started supporting his hindquarters with his little legs. I still kept some tension on the sling/harness around his lower belly, but only the tiniest bit of tension needed to keep him from falling. It was beginning to look like he may someday walk again!
I'd reserved a different campsite for Saturday, and just as we were getting ready to fix breakfast--admittedly, it was near ten o'clock--we got a call that the other campsite was vacant. We finished breakfast, "packed up," and moved over. Packed up is in quotes because there's not much packing required for a 200-yard move on level ground between one well-developed site and the next. We just had to toss the dishes in the sink, pick up Zack's cage and squeeze in Mammoth's sides.
Not so mammoth now!
The new site was a little nicer with maybe a little more room. You could see the lake--if you looked steadily in the southeast direction and stood on tippy-toes. The spot beside us was empty but we didn't expect it to stay that way. I could check reservations online, but what's the point? It's not like we were going to occupy their space.
So we pokied around a little, walked back to the entry gate to get our official windshield sticker, did dishes, did a little clipping on Zack's out-of-control mane. Then we took a walk down to the boat dock. It was ridiculously close by. Very pretty lake, very shallow--said with a hint of disgust in his voice by the man who'd come down to fish off the boat dock. He said it was only four-to-six feet deep throughout except for the creek channel.
For a man who seemed to spend his life hunting and fishing, he didn't seem very happy with the world. But he did speak with enthusiasm about the possibility of getting into a school of crappie in the early winter and pulling out one after another. I know that feeling--from a long time back--of having the fish biting so fast you never wanted to stop, even if you were going to have to clean them yourself.
Maybe he'd ask his wife to clean them. She--a solid, smiling sort of woman--came down with him, sat on her chair and proceeded to snap on rubber gloves. They were fishing for catfish and smearing dough balls with stinky stuff, so the rubber gloves made sense....
Except...they didn't. To be honest, the very idea weirded me out. The two worlds collided--one: fishing--with hook, bait, scales and guts and all that involves--and two: wearing plastic gloves. Sanitary, disposable, single use plastic gloves. It seemed as ridiculous as camping with a charcoal fire; cooking over coals and washing dishes in a sink; going to the wilderness but sleeping on a bed--
Ouch. That's a lot of contradiction to resolve. I'll think on it and get back to you.
We walked through a brushy woods to the end of the point and discovered a quiet, silver pool with a tempestuous surface--bugs floating on top and tiny, silver creatures underneath, hitting the surface so hard that ripples overlapped and dissolved into a confusing mess. With binoculars I could see the action well but not have a clue of the size or shape or even species of the water-dwelling denizens beneath.
By the time we mosied back home, it was time to start charcoal for supper. The only problem with Ed as a travel companion is that he seldom eats lunch. Me, I can take or leave supper, but I have to have my breakfast and lunch. So I snacked.
From coming in and out of the RV entrance time and again, I finally began to understand the purpose of the little four-shelf unit the previous owner had attached to the back of a seat, right beside the entry. It was too little to hold anything of consequence and and it was useless while traveling--anything you put there would quickly vibrate off. But here's the deal--it was right beside the door. Twenty to forty times a day you'll be entering and exiting through that door, usually with your hands full. The purpsoe of the shelf is for the stashing of temporary items you need to take in an out a lot while parked. Flip flops, dog leashes, coffee cups, cooking utensils.... It's a truly lovely little shelf!
Some notes to add to our records and possibly a review I'll post online. It's a very crowded campsite but the sites are laid out such that everyone has their bit of private space. The sites on loop H (30-amp) aren't great, but would be okay if you were simply coming here to spend the day fishing. But some of the sites on loop P (50-amp) have great views--for a north Texas reservoir. Sites P-8 through P-15, excepting P-12 which is on the wrong side of the road, are on a slope directly overlooking the water. They're spaced out, too, with plenty of privacy. We're on P-4 and well satisfied with the best we could get on short notice. But another time, go for the Big P's.
Other note--we had to ask for the firewood and the lady at the entrance said her husband would bring some by when he got off work. Of course, he never did. We weren't upset, but disappointed.
Still another note--not specific to this campsite--but it bugs the heck out of me--
What's with all the the Christmas lights? It seemed like every other camper had strung up blue or white or multi-colored Christmas lights around his spot or else laid them on the ground. They didn't turn them off when night time came, either. Seems downright silly to me. I go out to see the lovely moon and the stars and the mysterious movement of tall trees overhead in a hint of breeze, whispering to each other as they stretch unseen limbs.
Christmas lights. I can see them by stepping out my front door.
Notes from trip two:
1. Wind from a Texas norther (cold front coming in rapidly) makes Mammoth steer like an arthritic elephant.
2. The temperature inversion that often happens in the evening really messes with on-air TV reception. But research indicates that doing a rescan will often help, because the digital receiver might locate a different signal source for the channel. Apparently it locks into the first strong signal it finds for a given channel and remembers that location, even if it later goes out. Will try that next time and let you know.
3. If you want a fire, take your own (heat treated) wood for a backup because some parks--like this one--may not have any for sale. I understand the importance of not spreading disease or bark beetles, and I'm not planning to haul wood all over the country. But heat treated firewood is considered generally safe to take anywhere, except possibly in the state of New York.
5. If you're walking a short dog with problems in his back legs that make him even lower to the ground than he normally would be, keep an eagle eye on his backside and don't step directly behind him. But if you do, don't leave your boots on when you climb into the RV to get his cage.
6. So far I've seen more wildlife and birds in my own neighborhood than in any Texas park. But it's nearing hunting season--maybe they're hiding out.
7. Always assume hooking up the utilities is a two-man flashlight-equipped job. Or maybe one man with a headlamp. I was out goofing off walking the dogs until I realized someone was going to electrocute himself by fumbling around in the dark. My Number One Job is designated flashlight holder.
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