The weather had not been cooperating. It was either too cold, too wet, too cold and wet, or raining. So Mammoth waited.
The only thing we've did was check the extended forecast and sigh. But things were looking up! We bought an electric hand mixer yesterday. Every RV needs one of those, right? What if we were out traveling in May and visited a farmer's market and scouted out a couple pints of fresh, local strawberries? You may think those red things in the supermarket are strawberries but you're wrong--they may look the look, but they don't taste the taste. Indeed, there's not a drop of taste in 'em.
So in the event of this arrival of strawberries, we'd need a little whipped cream. and--no offense to the stuff you shoot out of a can--what's the point of wasting metal and plastic and all that packaging when it takes less than five minutes to add sugar to a carton of cream and whip it to heaven?
So come on, summertime!
When we bought the RV they'd given us a gift of a few weeks of complimentary camping at a string of resorts plus $100 to spend at them--or so we thought. All we had to do--we thought--was book a campsite, travel there, and listen to a membership sales pitch. I'd probably have blown it off, but they kept calling--which is a bad sign, of course--and we decided to give it a try.
But it turned out, we couldn't book a site until after we listened to the pitch. I figured it would probably be a slide show, or a video, after which someone would explain the various packages, sign us up for our complimentary camping, and give us a gift card to spend while there. It was supposed to take about 90 minutes. So yesterday, in the rain, we drove over.
It was awful. Simply awful. The first thing they did was write a hundred-dollar check out, then set it on a table in front of us, enticingly. Then we were set down with a tedious salesman who kept repeating the phrase "when you become a member"... After dragging out a few bits of information from us--what we liked and didn't like--he started drawing little pictures and circles and arrows on paper with various colored markers showing us all the benefits we could get from their package (not packages), provided we signed on today.
Plus he make up a bunch of fake numbers about how much camping in state parks was going to cost us, how trashy and crowded they were, and how they allowed the "general public" in. If we hadn't just had two delightful experiences in Texas state parks, plus a lifetime of camping in public places, we might have been stupid enough to believe him.
My eyes glazed over after an hour and I quit asking questions--no point in dragging it out. I snuck my phone out of my purse and put it where I could glance at the clock without being obvious. After two hours, I started getting visibly restless. When he gradually wound down, another guy took us on a quick drive around the park--in the rain--and we came back to deal. It was approaching three hours by then, and when he quoted the price--somewhere in the neighborhood of $11,000--I almost laughed out loud. And when he mentioned financing, I cut him right off. I hope I wasn't too rude about ti.
I honestly didn't imagine that that sort of sales practice still existed, and I pity the person who'd get sucked in by it. Maybe the crappy "resort" is okay for someone, somewhere. But me--
I wish I had my three hours back.
Wednesday, March 27, 2019
Tuesday, March 26, 2019
Great and action-packed historical fiction
Glory over everything: Beyond the Kitchen Houseby Kathleen Grissom
I committed the cardinal sin of reading a sequel without reading the first book. This appears to be the continuing story of Jamie Pyke, a quadroon who can pass for a white. He is now called James (? I think) Burton and he's a well-off white man, an artist and metalworker.
But it's also the story of Pan, the smart, ambitious boy whose mother dies so he's sent to work for Mr. Burton. And of Caroline, a naive young girl attending Mr. Burton's art class. And Sukey, a slave who runs a hospital. And...well, you get the idea. About the only person who doesn't have a story, much, is the butler Robert--but he runs throughout the narrative like Bunter does in the Lord Peter mysteries. Efficient; perceptive; indispensable. I liked him best of all.
I'm planning to seek out and read The Kitchen House now. Author Kathleen Grissom can really whip out a tale, and while her imagination seems to know no bounds, it's amazingly true to the time and place. I'm sure there must be an anachronism somewhere, in a 365-page book, but I didn't catch it.
Sunday, March 24, 2019
Mammoth Rests
And as I turn me home,
My shadow walks before.
--Robert Bridges
After the travels, travails, and exploration of the last months of 2018, the new year is coming in wet and awfully cold. First it was rain--the standing puddle behind my garage never dried out. Then it was cold. Not sub-zero, but nightly below freezing and days that only got into the fifties. Okay weather for a sight-seeing trip but the only ones of those we have in mind are many hours away from here.
So after cleaning up and restocking the beloved Mammoth, Ed's made a few improvements on the tow dolly and put Mammy on hiatus again. He did have to evict a family of squirrels building a nest on top of the slideout sides. In future, when parked, the slides stay in.
My shadow walks before.
--Robert Bridges
After the travels, travails, and exploration of the last months of 2018, the new year is coming in wet and awfully cold. First it was rain--the standing puddle behind my garage never dried out. Then it was cold. Not sub-zero, but nightly below freezing and days that only got into the fifties. Okay weather for a sight-seeing trip but the only ones of those we have in mind are many hours away from here.
So after cleaning up and restocking the beloved Mammoth, Ed's made a few improvements on the tow dolly and put Mammy on hiatus again. He did have to evict a family of squirrels building a nest on top of the slideout sides. In future, when parked, the slides stay in.
Thursday, March 21, 2019
Okay book but maybe not groundbreaking
Idiot Brain:
What Your Head is Really Up To
by Dean Burnett
I had high expectations for this but wasn't as thrilled as I'd hoped. If you've already done a good bit of reading about brains, bodies and science, you can happily skip it or just pick it up for light amusement on an airplane. Or when visiting your mother-in-law's house. But for me, there wasn't a lot new I hadn't read elsewhere.
It's interesting that some people thought it easy to read and others, hard. Me, I'd say it was easy to read...but awfully easy to put down.
What Your Head is Really Up To
by Dean Burnett
I had high expectations for this but wasn't as thrilled as I'd hoped. If you've already done a good bit of reading about brains, bodies and science, you can happily skip it or just pick it up for light amusement on an airplane. Or when visiting your mother-in-law's house. But for me, there wasn't a lot new I hadn't read elsewhere.
It's interesting that some people thought it easy to read and others, hard. Me, I'd say it was easy to read...but awfully easy to put down.
Tuesday, March 19, 2019
Gardening in my Roots, mid-to-late March
No picture this week; nothing to show except snap peas.
On Sunday I replanted spinach, of which only a little has emerged, and realized how dusty bone dry the top two inches of the soil is. That will never do!
I was pleased to see a little Swiss Chard had struggled up, but not a single beet or any sign of radishes. Which makes me wonder...when I planted carrots (a few are up!) and radishes near them as a "nurse crop", did I intend to go plant the radishes later and then forget all about them? I've never, ever seen radish seeds fail to grow!
So I replanted a few carrots and added plenty of radishes. Then I took my new watering wand and sprinkled them all down plentifully.
The next five days will be predictable. Get up. Go to Work. Come home. Sprinkle the garden.
On Sunday I replanted spinach, of which only a little has emerged, and realized how dusty bone dry the top two inches of the soil is. That will never do!
I was pleased to see a little Swiss Chard had struggled up, but not a single beet or any sign of radishes. Which makes me wonder...when I planted carrots (a few are up!) and radishes near them as a "nurse crop", did I intend to go plant the radishes later and then forget all about them? I've never, ever seen radish seeds fail to grow!
So I replanted a few carrots and added plenty of radishes. Then I took my new watering wand and sprinkled them all down plentifully.
The next five days will be predictable. Get up. Go to Work. Come home. Sprinkle the garden.
Sunday, March 17, 2019
Mammoth's 4-day adventure, departure and slow start
The Wind left earth and took its flight
O'er the wide seas of the night.
The moon set sail upon the gale
And stars were fanned to leaping light.
- -J.R.R. Tolkien
When it came time to set Mammoth back on her wheels, we discovered an embarrassing accident had occurred when lowering the levelling stands:
I hope no one else has ever done such a stupid thing. I guess we were lucky not to have torn them up. I shudder to think....
For this trip, our first one with the car on a tow dolly, we learned that it takes approximately one hour to hook up a dolly, load, tie and chain a car. The first attempt was flawless--Ed lined up the car, rolled up onto the dolly, and eased to a stop. But the problem was that the car was not straight--one tire was pressed against the front stop and the other had almost a two-inch gap in front. Assuming the car was simply crooked, he tried again. And again. Eventually assuming the problem was his inexperience with the car and steering wheel, I convinced him to let me try.
And that was a total nonstarter. He eventually corrected the mess I made and got it on there. Still not straight, but usable. The underlying problem was that the dolly had twisted on its central bolt and was itself crooked.
While he worked, I walked the dogs and had a final tussle with the bird population. In the end the three day trip ended up with this bird list: cedar waxwings, golden-fronted woodpecker, osprey, Canada goose, mallard, American coot, great egret, loggerhead shrike, yellow-rumped warbler, Bewick's wren.
Here are a few coots.
The return trip was pleasant for a while--we went through Fort Worth rather than facing the ultimate suffering that is I-35 East through Waco and Temple. But that meant we had a much longer trip. And, as always, we remembered why it's so hard to go south from where we live. These stupid things always gets in the way--
Return trip
29 to Burnet, 281 to Lampasas, 190 to I14 to Belton, I35 to SRT (121) to 380 to home
NOTE: The 281-190-I14 route was much a better choice for Mammoth than the one we came down on.
1. Planned distance: 255
2. Map time estimate: ~4:00
3. Adjusted estimate: not done
4. Actual distance: 259
5. Actual time: 5:07
6. Ten minute gear check at park entrance. 5-minute check on the highway. 10-15 minute stop at a rest area. Traffic on 75 through North Dallas looked horrible on the map, so we took the long way around Dallas up 35E to 121. Very heavy traffic but it kept moving.
7. Average mph trip: 51 while moving: 55
Notes from trip three:
1. Avoid I-35E at all costs. Some of the road construction along I35 up through Temple and then in Dallas reminded me of when my brother and I used to play chicken by riding our bikes at high speed between cars parked on a used car dealer's lot. You can't afford to wobble the steering wheel even an inch from side to side.
2. It's great to have an alternate plan when inclement weather is likely.
3. Marvelous!
O'er the wide seas of the night.
The moon set sail upon the gale
And stars were fanned to leaping light.
- -J.R.R. Tolkien
When it came time to set Mammoth back on her wheels, we discovered an embarrassing accident had occurred when lowering the levelling stands:
I hope no one else has ever done such a stupid thing. I guess we were lucky not to have torn them up. I shudder to think....
For this trip, our first one with the car on a tow dolly, we learned that it takes approximately one hour to hook up a dolly, load, tie and chain a car. The first attempt was flawless--Ed lined up the car, rolled up onto the dolly, and eased to a stop. But the problem was that the car was not straight--one tire was pressed against the front stop and the other had almost a two-inch gap in front. Assuming the car was simply crooked, he tried again. And again. Eventually assuming the problem was his inexperience with the car and steering wheel, I convinced him to let me try.
And that was a total nonstarter. He eventually corrected the mess I made and got it on there. Still not straight, but usable. The underlying problem was that the dolly had twisted on its central bolt and was itself crooked.
While he worked, I walked the dogs and had a final tussle with the bird population. In the end the three day trip ended up with this bird list: cedar waxwings, golden-fronted woodpecker, osprey, Canada goose, mallard, American coot, great egret, loggerhead shrike, yellow-rumped warbler, Bewick's wren.
Here are a few coots.
The return trip was pleasant for a while--we went through Fort Worth rather than facing the ultimate suffering that is I-35 East through Waco and Temple. But that meant we had a much longer trip. And, as always, we remembered why it's so hard to go south from where we live. These stupid things always gets in the way--
29 to Burnet, 281 to Lampasas, 190 to I14 to Belton, I35 to SRT (121) to 380 to home
NOTE: The 281-190-I14 route was much a better choice for Mammoth than the one we came down on.
1. Planned distance: 255
2. Map time estimate: ~4:00
3. Adjusted estimate: not done
4. Actual distance: 259
5. Actual time: 5:07
6. Ten minute gear check at park entrance. 5-minute check on the highway. 10-15 minute stop at a rest area. Traffic on 75 through North Dallas looked horrible on the map, so we took the long way around Dallas up 35E to 121. Very heavy traffic but it kept moving.
7. Average mph trip: 51 while moving: 55
Notes from trip three:
1. Avoid I-35E at all costs. Some of the road construction along I35 up through Temple and then in Dallas reminded me of when my brother and I used to play chicken by riding our bikes at high speed between cars parked on a used car dealer's lot. You can't afford to wobble the steering wheel even an inch from side to side.
2. It's great to have an alternate plan when inclement weather is likely.
3. Marvelous!
Thursday, March 14, 2019
Mammoth's Four Day Adventure, Part 3
The Wind went on from west to east
All movement in the forest ceased.
But shrill and harsh, across the marsh,
It's whistling voices were released.
--J. R. R. Tolkien
Saturday morning--
Gorgeous. Not so gooseful, but sunny, warm and windless. Just the sort of morning that calls for a little walk--
Over to the bird blind. This was a peculiar little building they'd created next to a clearing in the middle of thick bushes. In the clearing
they had water and various bird feeders, attracting English Sparrows, Bewick's wrens, possibly Carolina wrens, and a whole bunch of noisy little seed-eating birds I couldn't possibly identify. So I didn't try--but it was fun to watch them quarrel. And hop around. Or stride around like long-legged soldiers.
I had assumed a bird blind next to a lake was going to be overlooking the water--silly me. There was a great egret out there, but we didn't see him during our walk.
But I did have a bird-watching moment--outside the bird blind, on a low branch in a scrubby oak tree, sat a mockingbird-sized, gray and white bird with a heavy black mask. He sat still as no mockingbird of my experience ever could. So at last, I have my Loggerhead Shrike. (again, not my picture. Wish I'd taken one)
Funny thing about me--as much as I love bird-watching, I don't feel like a card-carrying bird watcher. I might go to a place hoping to see a bird, but I don't go to a place to see a bird. (So far) There's a whole lot more to the outdoors than marking off specimens on a list--imagine it! What if I went to the Grand Canyon in May and all I had to bring back was a bird book with the Hermit Thrush checked off, based on a quick sighting out the car window?
I'd be devastated! Because the Hermit Thrush has the most beautiful birdsong in the world and they do sing in the Grand Canyon in May...and I've not had a chance to stop and stand and hear it and hear it over again until it echoed in my ear.
And there's watching them fight and forage and feed--that can be a blast. They're funny, often silly, sometimes majestic and other times clever. But seeing all that takes time to stop and stare. And sometimes...sometimes just hiking in the woods making up french phrases to describe the wood thrush calls, when suddenly you're overtaken by a little spotted warbler going tea-cher, tea-cher, tea-cher, tea-CHER!
Our walk back was easier than the one out and then it was time for fishing! With a little interval of lunch and dog walking mixed in. My little dog Zack couldn't seem to get the idea that you don't want to get too close to these things:
But so far as I know, he didn't pick up any pricks. He acquired a sad collection of sand burrs instead.
Fishing was pleasant--hadn't gone in over a year--although I don't know for sure that either of us got any bites. I used a minnow-shaped lure for a while and it came back with its tail missing, but that could have been abrasion on the lake bottom. It was very shallow in our stream inlet to the lake, so shallow that coots were foraging all around the edges. They fed so avidly that I assumed they were going for fish or small invertebrates, but the book says they were just dabbling up delicious plant roots. Plenty of mallards, too, and one time I caught a glimpse of something I didn't recognize but he didn't hang around long enough to be admired.
What did hang around, off and on all day, was an osprey. Magnificent!
A little troupe of yellow-rumped warblers visited, and up on the hill we were inundated by cedar waxwings for a bit. Pretty much all of the other birds I chased around were able to elude me in the woods. Or the weeds at the edge of the stream. One really bugs me--at one point while walking Zack I saw a sparrow-sized bird dart into the weeds at the water's edge never to emerge. could that have been the elusive Lakeside Weed-Whacking Bird?
Finally, on our third night, we got a campfire! Not a large one, just an "Indian fire" (white man builds big fire; sits far away. Indian builds small fire; sits close) Still, a little too cold to have the little dog Zack sitting outside in his cage. When left alone in the RV, he yaps. Irritatingly. Continually. Eventually I realized I could wrap him in a big towel and bring him outside to sit in my lap. Very cozy--he made an excellent lap warmer. His head made it a little challenging to shell and eat my peanuts, but I managed.
All movement in the forest ceased.
But shrill and harsh, across the marsh,
It's whistling voices were released.
--J. R. R. Tolkien
Saturday morning--
Gorgeous. Not so gooseful, but sunny, warm and windless. Just the sort of morning that calls for a little walk--
Over to the bird blind. This was a peculiar little building they'd created next to a clearing in the middle of thick bushes. In the clearing
they had water and various bird feeders, attracting English Sparrows, Bewick's wrens, possibly Carolina wrens, and a whole bunch of noisy little seed-eating birds I couldn't possibly identify. So I didn't try--but it was fun to watch them quarrel. And hop around. Or stride around like long-legged soldiers.I had assumed a bird blind next to a lake was going to be overlooking the water--silly me. There was a great egret out there, but we didn't see him during our walk.
But I did have a bird-watching moment--outside the bird blind, on a low branch in a scrubby oak tree, sat a mockingbird-sized, gray and white bird with a heavy black mask. He sat still as no mockingbird of my experience ever could. So at last, I have my Loggerhead Shrike. (again, not my picture. Wish I'd taken one)
Funny thing about me--as much as I love bird-watching, I don't feel like a card-carrying bird watcher. I might go to a place hoping to see a bird, but I don't go to a place to see a bird. (So far) There's a whole lot more to the outdoors than marking off specimens on a list--imagine it! What if I went to the Grand Canyon in May and all I had to bring back was a bird book with the Hermit Thrush checked off, based on a quick sighting out the car window?
I'd be devastated! Because the Hermit Thrush has the most beautiful birdsong in the world and they do sing in the Grand Canyon in May...and I've not had a chance to stop and stand and hear it and hear it over again until it echoed in my ear.
And there's watching them fight and forage and feed--that can be a blast. They're funny, often silly, sometimes majestic and other times clever. But seeing all that takes time to stop and stare. And sometimes...sometimes just hiking in the woods making up french phrases to describe the wood thrush calls, when suddenly you're overtaken by a little spotted warbler going tea-cher, tea-cher, tea-cher, tea-CHER!
Our walk back was easier than the one out and then it was time for fishing! With a little interval of lunch and dog walking mixed in. My little dog Zack couldn't seem to get the idea that you don't want to get too close to these things:
But so far as I know, he didn't pick up any pricks. He acquired a sad collection of sand burrs instead.
Fishing was pleasant--hadn't gone in over a year--although I don't know for sure that either of us got any bites. I used a minnow-shaped lure for a while and it came back with its tail missing, but that could have been abrasion on the lake bottom. It was very shallow in our stream inlet to the lake, so shallow that coots were foraging all around the edges. They fed so avidly that I assumed they were going for fish or small invertebrates, but the book says they were just dabbling up delicious plant roots. Plenty of mallards, too, and one time I caught a glimpse of something I didn't recognize but he didn't hang around long enough to be admired.
What did hang around, off and on all day, was an osprey. Magnificent!
A little troupe of yellow-rumped warblers visited, and up on the hill we were inundated by cedar waxwings for a bit. Pretty much all of the other birds I chased around were able to elude me in the woods. Or the weeds at the edge of the stream. One really bugs me--at one point while walking Zack I saw a sparrow-sized bird dart into the weeds at the water's edge never to emerge. could that have been the elusive Lakeside Weed-Whacking Bird?
Finally, on our third night, we got a campfire! Not a large one, just an "Indian fire" (white man builds big fire; sits far away. Indian builds small fire; sits close) Still, a little too cold to have the little dog Zack sitting outside in his cage. When left alone in the RV, he yaps. Irritatingly. Continually. Eventually I realized I could wrap him in a big towel and bring him outside to sit in my lap. Very cozy--he made an excellent lap warmer. His head made it a little challenging to shell and eat my peanuts, but I managed.
Monday, March 11, 2019
Mammoth's Four Day Adventure, Part 2
The wind came down from mountains cold
And like a tide it roared and rolled;
The branches groaned, the forest moaned,
And leaves were laid upon the mould.
--J. R. R. Tolkien
But Zack, our snitty little dog, wasn't having it. It wasn't safe to leave him loose to roam around the RV floor at night. Even if we blocked the step so he couldn't fall down it, after a stressful day of travel he just might decide to take a dump in a far corner. He's a Shit-zu, and has never been completely housebroken.
So the plan was that he sleep in his cage. I think I mentioned on the last trip some issues regarding that plan. If so, I apologize for the repeat--here we were again.
He panted and whined and started to yip. Note that we've never had these problems at home, even after he was confined to the cage after back surgery. But who could blame him now? He was in a strange place with strange lights coming in and gale-force winds rocking the floor. While he could hear me speaking to him, he couldn't smell me.
Just like last time, I gave up and went to the sofa. Mischief managed.
But enough with the nightly terrors--on to the day! Oh, the day! Weather-wise, not what we'd hoped for. The wind moderated a little but was still murder when you faced into it. Without the wind chill, I'd have been wearing only a light shirt over my teeshirt. With the wind, a heavy fiberfill jacket over two shirts and a hoodie was more acceptable.
The sun was well hidden behind the clouds. Plan A would have been to walk around the park and fish a little, but that was scuttered after I checked the weather and found out that it wasn't likely to turn sunny until afternoon. On to Plan B.
Great cave; great tour guide. There were only two other people, plus their little boys, on the tour with us. We could have asked a lot more questions and gotten a lot more information if we'd been in the mood. But we were in a quiet mood and content to be passive spectators. I've been in a lot of caves in my life....
Aside: a lot? Mammoth; Wind; that one in Yellowstone; Innerspace; probably a few growing up and certainly a few I don't remember. Still I never met a cave I didn't like.
This one has an awesome history. Most interesting to me was the CCC buildings and the Mexican Free-Tailed Bat. Apparently there was a large population of them living in the cave in the 30's and they produced a buttload of guano. But when the state government decided to turn it into a tourist attraction that would rival Carlsbad Caverns in New Mexico and bring all those tourist dollars home, they sent in the CCC and the bats left. All that lives there now are a few Eastern Pipistrelle bats, which are loners. And a toad, which we saw.
And this weird rock:
Highlight of the trip was our tour guide demonstrating the glow from phosphorus atoms in the stone, after she excited them with the flashlight beam--
When we got back it was nearing time to start supper. The wind was still gusting, but not so much that we couldn't build a cautious fire in our little grill with Mammoth RV for a wind break. Sufficient for steak and grilled vegetables.
And to see a Golden-Fronted Woodpecker--
\
This is not my photo, of course, but one pirated from https://www.audubon.org
Wednesday, March 6, 2019
Mammoth's Four Day Adventure
“It’s a dangerous business, Frodo, going out of
your door.... You step into the Road, and if you don’t
keep your feet, there is no knowing where you might
be swept off to."
-J.R.R. Tolkien
Thursday, 13 December 2018 -- Home to Inks Lake State Park
We took 75 down to 35E to a tiny little cutoff between Temple and Georgetown which took us over some pretty narrow roads to Burnett. Not an ideal RV route. (SH 75 S to I-35E to FM2843 to FM 487 to TX-195 to TX-138 to FM 243 to TX 29.)
1. Planned distance: 246
2. Map time estimate: 4:21
3. Adjusted estimate: not done
4. Actual distance: probably pretty close
5. Actual time: 5:20
6. Two 15-minute stops, one for a pee and gear check; one for gas. Traffic in Plano and Richardson stunk; after that episodes of road construction slowed us down. But mostly good driving.
7. Average mph trip: 46 while moving: 51
There had been some rain earlier in the morning and intermittent storm clouds were looming ahead, but eventually it turned mostly clear and very, very windy. We were under a wind advisory until 6am with a 50% chance of showers overnight. But what would you expect? We were camping in December! Those fast-moving cold fronts they call "blue northers" are only to be expected.
During the previous two weeks Ed had been busy adding a new responsibility onto Mammoth. Mammoth the Money Eater is now Mammoth the Tow Truck. For the next trip and pretty much all of the next trips, she'll be pulling a little Mazda-3 behind. Bye=bye, my Mazda
What you can't see in this picture is that Mammoth is parked at a truck stop alongside a fairly normal-sized 18-wheeler. The total length of Mammoth plus Mazda is less than the length of the tractor and trailer. Which proves what Ed's been telling me--anywhere one of them can go, we can go too.
For the records, I-35 is mostly a mess from Waxahachi to Hillsboro. It should be six lanes the whole way, but so much is under construction you can't tell what it used to be before they slapped up walls and rerouted the traffic into a narrow mess. I don't remember any complete stops once we left Plano behind, but there were a lot of slowdowns.
Sadly--for me--my pilot had taken the time to load up his IPhone with music and comedy tracks for the trip. I like music and comedy myself, but some of it was very loud and required constant twiddling with the volume control. By me. And then when he bought a bag of Funyuns at the gas station and started shoveling them in with one hand while steering with the other, we spent more time on the buzzy strip at the side of the road than off it. Between the wind gusts, the 18-wheelers passing us at 75 miles per hour, Funyuns and Bruce Springsteen, I was developing a massive headache before we hit Waco.
The IPhone was navigating and the route it chose came dangerously near to cross-country. Just past Salado we headed west on FM 2843 and various other roads to Burnet, then TX-29 to the park road. Note for future: Burnet is a nice little town with plenty of places to fuel up for the road. Also it's near the center point of several edge-of-hill-country attractions. We'll probably be back there someday. The route was five miles shorter than the "big road" route through Killeen and Lampasas, which we took on the way back and determined that it was much more suitable for Mammoth-sized vehicles. In future we'll avoid as many FM's (farm-to-market roads) as possible.
We filled up in Burnet--the tank was a little under half full and we added 24 gallons for about $70. Ouch. So much for RV camping saving money over motels! By my calculations, with the side wind, the slowdowns on I-35, and the tow vehicle, we were doing about 9.7 miles per gallon. Will have to do.
We arrived at the park at about three o'clock. It was beautiful, from what we could see of it with our hoods battened down over our faces and eyes squinted shut. Even in the shelter of Mammoth, wind gusts were whipping us so hard we could barely walk in a straight line, let alone admire the scenery.
At five-thirty, when it was starting to get dark, I took the dogs for a second walk and fully expected little Zack to blow away. Luckily he has plenty of ballast in his heavy shoulders and front end. With his age and shape, his hind legs are puny.
We had a lot of free spaces to choose from, so of course we chose one right next to the water. Even with all the mammoth weight it felt like a strong enough gust would flip us over, letting us slither down the slope to the water's edge.
Coots and unidentified ducks were fishing in the calm water near the edge, but at nightfall they all disappeared. Sleep was on the way. Tomorrow should be calmer.
your door.... You step into the Road, and if you don’t
keep your feet, there is no knowing where you might
be swept off to."
-J.R.R. Tolkien
Thursday, 13 December 2018 -- Home to Inks Lake State Park
We took 75 down to 35E to a tiny little cutoff between Temple and Georgetown which took us over some pretty narrow roads to Burnett. Not an ideal RV route. (SH 75 S to I-35E to FM2843 to FM 487 to TX-195 to TX-138 to FM 243 to TX 29.)
1. Planned distance: 246
2. Map time estimate: 4:21
3. Adjusted estimate: not done
4. Actual distance: probably pretty close
5. Actual time: 5:20
6. Two 15-minute stops, one for a pee and gear check; one for gas. Traffic in Plano and Richardson stunk; after that episodes of road construction slowed us down. But mostly good driving.
7. Average mph trip: 46 while moving: 51
There had been some rain earlier in the morning and intermittent storm clouds were looming ahead, but eventually it turned mostly clear and very, very windy. We were under a wind advisory until 6am with a 50% chance of showers overnight. But what would you expect? We were camping in December! Those fast-moving cold fronts they call "blue northers" are only to be expected.
During the previous two weeks Ed had been busy adding a new responsibility onto Mammoth. Mammoth the Money Eater is now Mammoth the Tow Truck. For the next trip and pretty much all of the next trips, she'll be pulling a little Mazda-3 behind. Bye=bye, my Mazda
What you can't see in this picture is that Mammoth is parked at a truck stop alongside a fairly normal-sized 18-wheeler. The total length of Mammoth plus Mazda is less than the length of the tractor and trailer. Which proves what Ed's been telling me--anywhere one of them can go, we can go too.
For the records, I-35 is mostly a mess from Waxahachi to Hillsboro. It should be six lanes the whole way, but so much is under construction you can't tell what it used to be before they slapped up walls and rerouted the traffic into a narrow mess. I don't remember any complete stops once we left Plano behind, but there were a lot of slowdowns.
Sadly--for me--my pilot had taken the time to load up his IPhone with music and comedy tracks for the trip. I like music and comedy myself, but some of it was very loud and required constant twiddling with the volume control. By me. And then when he bought a bag of Funyuns at the gas station and started shoveling them in with one hand while steering with the other, we spent more time on the buzzy strip at the side of the road than off it. Between the wind gusts, the 18-wheelers passing us at 75 miles per hour, Funyuns and Bruce Springsteen, I was developing a massive headache before we hit Waco.
The IPhone was navigating and the route it chose came dangerously near to cross-country. Just past Salado we headed west on FM 2843 and various other roads to Burnet, then TX-29 to the park road. Note for future: Burnet is a nice little town with plenty of places to fuel up for the road. Also it's near the center point of several edge-of-hill-country attractions. We'll probably be back there someday. The route was five miles shorter than the "big road" route through Killeen and Lampasas, which we took on the way back and determined that it was much more suitable for Mammoth-sized vehicles. In future we'll avoid as many FM's (farm-to-market roads) as possible.
We filled up in Burnet--the tank was a little under half full and we added 24 gallons for about $70. Ouch. So much for RV camping saving money over motels! By my calculations, with the side wind, the slowdowns on I-35, and the tow vehicle, we were doing about 9.7 miles per gallon. Will have to do.
We arrived at the park at about three o'clock. It was beautiful, from what we could see of it with our hoods battened down over our faces and eyes squinted shut. Even in the shelter of Mammoth, wind gusts were whipping us so hard we could barely walk in a straight line, let alone admire the scenery.
At five-thirty, when it was starting to get dark, I took the dogs for a second walk and fully expected little Zack to blow away. Luckily he has plenty of ballast in his heavy shoulders and front end. With his age and shape, his hind legs are puny.
We had a lot of free spaces to choose from, so of course we chose one right next to the water. Even with all the mammoth weight it felt like a strong enough gust would flip us over, letting us slither down the slope to the water's edge.
Coots and unidentified ducks were fishing in the calm water near the edge, but at nightfall they all disappeared. Sleep was on the way. Tomorrow should be calmer.
Sunday, March 3, 2019
Mammoth: Preparing for the Third Voyage
two hundred pounds of flour, thirty pounds of pilot bread, seventy-five
pounds of bacon, ten pound of rice, five pounds of coffee, two pounds of tea,
twenty-five pounds of sugar, half a bushel of dried beans, one bushel of dried
fruit, two pound of saleratus [baking soda], ten pounds of salt, half a bushel of
corn meal; and it is well to have half a bushel of corn, parched and ground; a
small keg of vinegar should also be taken.
--Joel Palmer, Journal of Travels over the Rocky Mountains, 1906
I've discovered something surprising about RVing vs. tent camping. Preparing for tent camping used to be a big hassle. We kept our gear in a single closet but still had to pick and choose and pack up what we needed for the specifics of the trip. Our kitchen gear stayed ready-loaded in a big plastic box, and while we always cleaned and put away the pans after each trip, we weren't real good about replenishing consumables. Before each trip we had to pull out the box and check the paper towel supply, salt, foil and other such niceties of civilized life.
Then we had to consider food and preparation. We typically ate "real food" while camping, even more so than in real life. But--as you will know if you ever eat real food--it takes preparation. Baking potatoes have to be washed and wrapped in foil; vegetables for skewers have to be cut in chunks; meat marinaded and cut up. For pancakes we cheated with a boxed mix and for beans we just threw in a can, however I did once try a semi-successful experiment with homemade baked beans that I dried and packed in "just add water" containers. Then, of course there were snacks like homemade trail mix or chocolate-chip cookies from scratch.
All this had to be done last minute--okay, no. I lie. All of this ended up being done last minute. Usually when we were tired from work and cranky and already late getting to bed before the early start next day.
Things have changed. Or maybe we've changed. Probably the latter. Maybe not changed enough, but we're working on that. Here's how:
We keep the RV stocked. How disciplined is that? Our methods may be archaic but the results are not.
There's a list (on paper, hanging on a hook in the kitchen) of consumables that we update during the trip if they need to be restocked. Food prep in advance is hardly necessary--there's a fully stocked kitchen in the thing. No washing, repackaging, or cutting up is necessary--just throw the grocery store harvest directly in the fridge. Shove the trail mix ingredients in a cupboard. You can pour the wasteful little plastic bags into the reusable bag and mix them when you've plenty of time to kill because there are no clocks, no deadlines, and no demands on your time other than the dog needing a potty walk.
As aging takes its toll and days ineluctably shorten, we need all the time we can get for important things--staring into sunsets, dabbling fishing lines in lakes, stumbling around with binoculars and shining flashlights on campfires.
two hundred pounds of flour, thirty pounds of pilot bread, seventy-five
pounds of bacon, ten pound of rice, five pounds of coffee, two pounds of tea,
twenty-five pounds of sugar, half a bushel of dried beans, one bushel of dried
fruit, two pound of saleratus [baking soda], ten pounds of salt, half a bushel of
corn meal; and it is well to have half a bushel of corn, parched and ground; a
small keg of vinegar should also be taken.
--Joel Palmer, Journal of Travels over the Rocky Mountains, 1906
I've discovered something surprising about RVing vs. tent camping. Preparing for tent camping used to be a big hassle. We kept our gear in a single closet but still had to pick and choose and pack up what we needed for the specifics of the trip. Our kitchen gear stayed ready-loaded in a big plastic box, and while we always cleaned and put away the pans after each trip, we weren't real good about replenishing consumables. Before each trip we had to pull out the box and check the paper towel supply, salt, foil and other such niceties of civilized life.
Then we had to consider food and preparation. We typically ate "real food" while camping, even more so than in real life. But--as you will know if you ever eat real food--it takes preparation. Baking potatoes have to be washed and wrapped in foil; vegetables for skewers have to be cut in chunks; meat marinaded and cut up. For pancakes we cheated with a boxed mix and for beans we just threw in a can, however I did once try a semi-successful experiment with homemade baked beans that I dried and packed in "just add water" containers. Then, of course there were snacks like homemade trail mix or chocolate-chip cookies from scratch.
All this had to be done last minute--okay, no. I lie. All of this ended up being done last minute. Usually when we were tired from work and cranky and already late getting to bed before the early start next day.
Things have changed. Or maybe we've changed. Probably the latter. Maybe not changed enough, but we're working on that. Here's how:
We keep the RV stocked. How disciplined is that? Our methods may be archaic but the results are not.
There's a list (on paper, hanging on a hook in the kitchen) of consumables that we update during the trip if they need to be restocked. Food prep in advance is hardly necessary--there's a fully stocked kitchen in the thing. No washing, repackaging, or cutting up is necessary--just throw the grocery store harvest directly in the fridge. Shove the trail mix ingredients in a cupboard. You can pour the wasteful little plastic bags into the reusable bag and mix them when you've plenty of time to kill because there are no clocks, no deadlines, and no demands on your time other than the dog needing a potty walk.
As aging takes its toll and days ineluctably shorten, we need all the time we can get for important things--staring into sunsets, dabbling fishing lines in lakes, stumbling around with binoculars and shining flashlights on campfires.
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