We really shouldn’t have laughed as much or as hard as we did but seeing Chip navigate wearing his first set of boots was hilarious. As much because of the great Irish dancer butt-kick that he performed over and over and because of the look of confusion he had while also being a great sport about the whole thing.
By the next day he was still in the mode of “What? Why are you doing this to me” but by the next morning he actually lifted his front paw up when I asked if he wanted his boots.
It seems clear that while they’re weird, he prefers his boots when we’re walking on gravel and I suspect he liked them this morning when walking through frosty ground.
So, back in April, 2018 the port side headlight fell off during a test drive with the towing system. Well, OK, more like came loose and was dangling like an eyeball hanging on by the optic nerve. I know it happened then because during the drive both I and my passenger heard and odd noise, looked at each other and said “what was that?” There wasn’t anything obvious so we kept going.
I found out about the light a day later while I was showing my dad around the coach.
Tiffin has no clue how to use epoxy. The square tubing was perfectly smooth with just a few holes drilled it in and tiny little nibs of epoxy holding the brackets onto the fiberglass shell.
Fortunately with some JB Weld, sandpaper, a clamp and mineral spirits I was able to re-attach the brackets and get the headlight attached again. Click on the pics for more.
Fast forward to September 3rd during our drive from Custer to Buffalo WY where we come out from grocery shopping to find that our starboard light is dangling like the last light.
It’s partly my fault since I knew this day was coming and really should have removed the light long ago and re-done the epoxy on the mounts. New rule. If it can be fixed now. Fix it now.
Fortunately we were able to clamp and bungee the light in place and continue our shuffle off to Buffalo.
The next day I took the time to remove the brackets
remove the old epoxy
Clean the areas with mineral spirits
Clean and rough up the brackets where they’ll make contact with the epoxy
Mix up the JB Weld (sorry, was in a hurry and didn’t get a pic), slather some on the bracket and clamp it in place. Didn’t get a picture of that either but the end result was
I also took the opportunity to re-attach a bracket I’d missed on the port side back in April.
These things are never falling off ever again.
Click on any of the pics to see more of the process.
Dark skies. The only lights are likely to be the neighbors who forget to turn off their porch lights or have motion sensitive lights that are set off by everything that blows by. Otherwise really dark skies and a clearly visible milky way.
Friendly and eager to help hosts.
Booking was easy and Erin sent comprehensive directions to the camp.
Large sites. Your 40 footer and toad will easily fit.
Great views of the mountains. Gorgeous sunrise and sunset. These were helped/hurt (depending on the day and your opinion) by the fires in the West but even when the mountains were smoked out, the views were fantastic.
The sites are overgrown with weeds. Not just your typical weeds but low-growing monsters with sharp spikes. It’s clear that the hosts are busy elsewhere and they need a camp host to take care of the camp when they’re away. The only upside here was that in the morning and evening it was cold and windy such that we weren’t eager to stay outside. The rest of the time we were touring Cody or Yellowstone and so the state of our site wasn’t important.
Many of the sites aren’t marked and so it’s difficult with some to tell if you’re looking at a spot where you’re supposed to put your coach or if you’re looking at an open area.
Some sites have fire pits. Some don’t. There didn’t seem to be obvious logic for which did and didn’t. It also wasn’t clear if there was a common area for everyone to use.
If you have a problem with your electrical post (we lost power several times) on the weekend, you’ll probably need to move as their electrician won’t be available. Fortunately if you’re there in September and have a decent battery bank or generator, you can probably get by without their electric as the days are mild and the nights cold (and windy).
Debris everywhere. I’m calling it all collectively debris because in some cases it’s trash that’s been dumped randomly and in some cases it’s clearly building material that’s been sitting for days or months. For example, the “playground” has remains from past fireworks shows, a decaying grill, a stack of firewood and building materials littering the area as well as other random trash.
If they maintained their camp better and cleaned it up I’d have given them at least a 4.
Would I stay again? Probably. I’d at least consider it if all things were equal and especially if I’d heard they improved conditions around the camp.
Glenwood Springs, Colorado offers a main drag for trinket shopping, a few quirky shops, and adorable houses. Hubby and I happened upon a little
farmer’s market in a tiny city park where we bought hand made soap. The warm day made us seek air conditioning, so we browsed places selling artful dust catchers. Life in an RV removes the temptation of buying most objets d’art. Where do we put it? How fast will it jump off the wall and break? What’s it weigh? Oh never mind.
Hoping for a bright spot in the afternoon, I looked for a local weaving or yarn shop. If it went well, I’d spend a few happy minutes with my tribe. The Google has a way of suggesting crazy or at least off-the-mark stuff, so when “weaving” turned up Art on 8th, I thought, “Great. It’s an art gallery that has one funky wall hanging made of cat hair and tin foil.” Still, I can’t leave some stones unturned.
Art on 8th’s downstairs has pretties – jewelry, trinkets, artsy creations – and fabulous woven towels and garments. As a weaver, although a new one, I recognize quality in consistent work and the beauty in functional twill towels. It turned out there was a weaving studio upstairs, the shop lady said, where I could observe the process. Squee! Must see the looms and talk to weaving kinfolk!
There were three looms on the stair landing, one being used by a silent, studious-looking man. Shh, mustn’t disturb him. At the top of the stairs, left, right, and around the corner were looms, looms, looms! At least five people were weaving their hearts out, and a couple more hovered and assisted. I didn’t get full details, but evidently there is a local effort that gives folks with disabilities the opportunity to learn to weave and to earn money from their work.Assistants handle dressing the looms, but the clients choose colors and weave yards and yards of gorgeous fabric. One gentleman weaving fluffy rugs proudly told me he had been doing it for 20 years. A woman weaving luscious yellows and golds worked so fast and beat so hard that it made me a teensy bit jealous. (I love to beat the hell out of weft shots and often have to hold back. Not her!) These people may have disabilities in some arenas, but where weaving is concerned, they’ve got skills.
I only wished for a guest loom where I could sit, weave, and enjoy their company. To the assistant who answered my questions and said she only dresses the looms but has yet to weave – oh honey! You gotta do it!
Hubby and I have been to Hot Springs before and enjoyed it, so as a stop on our gradual journey home, it made for an easy choice. It’s hard to break myself from calling Plano “home” even though we’re trying to think of the RV as home. It’s a switch, going from home as a spot on a map to home being this vehicle that you wander around the country in. Plano, with its population of soccer moms carrying their broods around in Porsche Cayennes and Mercedes SUVs, never felt like a place I identified with, but I do miss the house. I even miss pulling weeds, but only in a voluntary way when the weather is nice and the ground lets me have the roots due to a recent rain. Only a bit sheepishly, I pulled a few at our last campground, to Michael’s teasing.
But back to Hot Springs. Yes, they have the historic bathhouse row, and it almost felt like an obligation to go and get a spa treatment, until we did. I insisted on leaving our phones in the locker so when we had the bath it was just bubbles and hot water and cutesy LED lights in the water and calm. Calm. We rejoined the world briefly, pressing lightly-scented, cool cloths to our faces and drinking cucumber-infused spring water, before diving back into mental quiet on the massage table. Maybe I should adopt this routine as a religious observance. I don’t participate in organized religion, but if part of the point of that exercise is meditation and a positive reset for mind and soul, I think I could do worse than a soak and massage.