Posted By: TwoDog
Enough of me talking about me... - 05/19/17 04:35 PM
Now YOU talk about me.
Hey everyone. Sorry I have been on hiatus for a while.
Big changes...haven't been able to write much.
Recently escaped the Arizona desert to move to to the Pacific NW. Didn't find much gold overall but the experience of finding my own gold-producing spot was gratifying.
The power of SCIENCE prevails over the power of BUBBASAID
So I feel I have gotten all I need from the high desert.
Maybe that's a rationalization, but as is usually the case when I rationalize, I don't care.
With its stark beauty, its amazing ecology, and it's abundant mineral wealth...
The desert sucks donkey balls.
It's important to note here (and I am sure this is not news) but there were other reasons for my departure from the desert.
Specifically another member here on GC--Stef.
We started talking about RV life with Gliders--and we just kept talking.
So...the cliff notes..
I somehow lack the words to Shakespeare this, so I will just say it.
We are all gooey in love, and we look forward to making you all ill from watching us.
I have pulled all the data cards from Sugar Squadron's tablets--BECAUSE I THINK THIS WAS ENGINEERED BY GLIDERS.
I do see here that Athena recently watched Sleepless in Seattle twenty-five times.
Time for some parental control settings...
Where is my tinfoil hat?
The desert didn't want to let go easily though...
Here comes the weird but true...
As much as I love the RV life, I hate moving this beast. Triple-towing something this size is a white knuckle affair.
Ominously, as I had previously left Dolan Springs, in route to my more current loc in the Phoenix area, I witnessed a grisly accident.
It was a big truck--pulling a rig startlingly similar to my own.
In perfect weather, and in minimal traffic, this guy had somehow lost control and disintegrated this entire rig in a rollover accident.
Someone did not walk away from that one. :-(
I was going south. It was thankfully in the other land.
So now we are headed North...
Brutus is dutifully pulling the rig at a speed of 55 mph...
And out of nowhere is a huge dip...
Nasty crashing noises, and the triple tow bounces around in a whiplike motion (Doing some serious redecorating inside the trailer.) I have "browned my trou", but the whole thing somehow holds together.
No crazy noises...no expanding cloud of machine parts sailing off the road behind me....
Whew! Dodged a bullet there!
...Oh oh...
People behind me are falling back...
A guy in a pickup truck passes me quickly--pointing and yelling something unintelligible...
Not sure what he was screaming, but I don't think he was asking if I had any Grey Poupon...
Off the road fast--not much room...just barely off the white line--and not fond of the slant we are leaning at off the shoulder.
Jump out and run to the rear. ZOOM ZOOM ZOOM! Timing the gaps in the traffic.
The force of the dip had popped Bunny's trailer right off the ball.
If the safety chains hadn't been on there, I would have lost the trailer--in traffic.
However, when I hit the brakes, the unrestrained trailer slammed into the back of the rig--destroying the light connection, and the trailer jack.
The rear straps holding Bunny onto the trailer had broken. Bunny had gone airborne, and had come back down on the trailer at a angle. Still on the trailer...but not by much.
Traffic is whizzing by, and I am trying to put this whole thing back together--fast.
I start levering Bunny back into position on the trailer using a ratchet strap. Gets her moved just enough to be drive-able.
Re-strapping bunny as fast as I can, I realize two more uncomfortable things:
1) Somehow, I am covered in gasoline.
2) Somehow, a brush fire has sprung up about 200 yards behind the rig, and its burning it's way toward me...
Couldn't even think of an appropriate curse...
Rapidly putting together in my head what must have happened:
When we hit the dip, everything went airborne on the trailer.
The fuel can on top of Bunny had broken loose, and was hanging upside down, dumping fuel down the highway.
And then, the huge showers of sparks from the trailer tongue bouncing off the asphalt over and over again, must have ignited it...
Why am I not on fire?
Move your [censored] or you will be...
All we have to do now is get the trailer back onto the ball...and start moving away from the encroaching fire...
This is where,I discover the trailer jack has been damaged by the trailer ramming into the rig. It won't turn. The trailer tongue is resting on the ground. The trailer is fully loaded...with Bunny and other equipment.
But it's right next to the ball hitch...if I can just lift it...
Traffic is whizzing by at 70 miles per hour on the left. I am between the trailer and the rig, trying to reconnect it.
And everyone coming this way is looking at the fire...
Just KNOW I am about to get hit, and smashed into grout between the trailer and the rig.
Between the trailer and the rig is not where I want to be.
Have to do this fast.
LIIIIFT....
Failed to get it onto the ball. But somehow managed to get my hand stuck under the trailer tongue--and unable to lift it.
Now I am STUCK...between the trailer and the rig...but not for long.
HOONNNNK!!!!
%$^$%& #%$^$#@%&#&%^!!!
Had to leave some skin on the pavement. Wrap with cloth and duct tape. On the bright side, I was already soiled from before. Look! I'm saving underwear!
Ok...idea. Start running loads of stuff; anything heavy, from the garage, around the NON-highway side--to stack it onto the back of Bunny.
Bag of rice, bag of beans, tool kit, big boxes of rocks.
Stacked onto the back--enough junk to counterweight, and allow me to lift the tongue of the trailer back onto the ball.
Hooked up! Lights destroyed, but hooked up.
Fire dept has arrived. We LOVE you guys!
Trying to look nonchalant as I finish strapping down.
<whistling tunelessly> Um...who me? No sir...that was here when I got here...no idea...
Shuffle all the junk back into the garage.
What is all this stuff off the side of the road next to me?
Its the REMAINS OF THE OTHER RIG I passed before...
Creepy. I guess I know what happened to him now.
For the next 1400 miles my hands were frozen to the wheel in a grip of death...and the window always stayed open a crack--to listen for trouble...
Which we found in Zillah, Washington.
Just 4 hours away from the campground, the helpful state police stop me.
Evidently triple tow is not allowed in the state of Washington.
They make me drop the trailer in a parking lot, four hours from my goal.
Teaching the dogs some new words as I pull out of the parking lot, leaving Bunny and all my prospecting gear behind. It would take another whole day to go back and pick her up.
Evidently I am distracted enough that I forget to put on my seat belt. And within **200 YARDS** I am pulled over again by ANOTHER helpful law enforcement officer, who helpfully slaps me with a nice ticket and another hour delay.
Don't you guys have a half mile minimum or something...c'mon!
And why is Washington so HOT...where is the AC?
It's broken.
<sigh> Adventure, adventure, adventure...can't I just fight some orcs or something? I wanna talk to my agent.
It's a happy ending though...
I finally arrived at the campground, and Stef got me all set up next door to her.
We have a little convoy now. :-) <cue C.W. McCall>
I have a job.
My first ever Workcamping gig; my title is Ranger.
ONLY YOU, [censored]!!! <CLANG! CLANG! CLANG!>
Going to be fun.
Yay for money!
And YAY for a TOTAL lack of CACTUS and venomous snakes!
And YAY for Stef...
...and two dogs and SEVEN (OMG) gliders.
Thank you GC. :-)
Hey everyone. Sorry I have been on hiatus for a while.
Big changes...haven't been able to write much.
Recently escaped the Arizona desert to move to to the Pacific NW. Didn't find much gold overall but the experience of finding my own gold-producing spot was gratifying.
The power of SCIENCE prevails over the power of BUBBASAID
So I feel I have gotten all I need from the high desert.
Maybe that's a rationalization, but as is usually the case when I rationalize, I don't care.
With its stark beauty, its amazing ecology, and it's abundant mineral wealth...
The desert sucks donkey balls.
It's important to note here (and I am sure this is not news) but there were other reasons for my departure from the desert.
Specifically another member here on GC--Stef.
We started talking about RV life with Gliders--and we just kept talking.
So...the cliff notes..
I somehow lack the words to Shakespeare this, so I will just say it.
We are all gooey in love, and we look forward to making you all ill from watching us.
I have pulled all the data cards from Sugar Squadron's tablets--BECAUSE I THINK THIS WAS ENGINEERED BY GLIDERS.
I do see here that Athena recently watched Sleepless in Seattle twenty-five times.
Time for some parental control settings...
Where is my tinfoil hat?
The desert didn't want to let go easily though...
Here comes the weird but true...
As much as I love the RV life, I hate moving this beast. Triple-towing something this size is a white knuckle affair.
Ominously, as I had previously left Dolan Springs, in route to my more current loc in the Phoenix area, I witnessed a grisly accident.
It was a big truck--pulling a rig startlingly similar to my own.
In perfect weather, and in minimal traffic, this guy had somehow lost control and disintegrated this entire rig in a rollover accident.
Someone did not walk away from that one. :-(
I was going south. It was thankfully in the other land.
So now we are headed North...
Brutus is dutifully pulling the rig at a speed of 55 mph...
And out of nowhere is a huge dip...
Nasty crashing noises, and the triple tow bounces around in a whiplike motion (Doing some serious redecorating inside the trailer.) I have "browned my trou", but the whole thing somehow holds together.
No crazy noises...no expanding cloud of machine parts sailing off the road behind me....
Whew! Dodged a bullet there!
...Oh oh...
People behind me are falling back...
A guy in a pickup truck passes me quickly--pointing and yelling something unintelligible...
Not sure what he was screaming, but I don't think he was asking if I had any Grey Poupon...
Off the road fast--not much room...just barely off the white line--and not fond of the slant we are leaning at off the shoulder.
Jump out and run to the rear. ZOOM ZOOM ZOOM! Timing the gaps in the traffic.
The force of the dip had popped Bunny's trailer right off the ball.
If the safety chains hadn't been on there, I would have lost the trailer--in traffic.
However, when I hit the brakes, the unrestrained trailer slammed into the back of the rig--destroying the light connection, and the trailer jack.
The rear straps holding Bunny onto the trailer had broken. Bunny had gone airborne, and had come back down on the trailer at a angle. Still on the trailer...but not by much.
Traffic is whizzing by, and I am trying to put this whole thing back together--fast.
I start levering Bunny back into position on the trailer using a ratchet strap. Gets her moved just enough to be drive-able.
Re-strapping bunny as fast as I can, I realize two more uncomfortable things:
1) Somehow, I am covered in gasoline.
2) Somehow, a brush fire has sprung up about 200 yards behind the rig, and its burning it's way toward me...
Couldn't even think of an appropriate curse...
Rapidly putting together in my head what must have happened:
When we hit the dip, everything went airborne on the trailer.
The fuel can on top of Bunny had broken loose, and was hanging upside down, dumping fuel down the highway.
And then, the huge showers of sparks from the trailer tongue bouncing off the asphalt over and over again, must have ignited it...
Why am I not on fire?
Move your [censored] or you will be...
All we have to do now is get the trailer back onto the ball...and start moving away from the encroaching fire...
This is where,I discover the trailer jack has been damaged by the trailer ramming into the rig. It won't turn. The trailer tongue is resting on the ground. The trailer is fully loaded...with Bunny and other equipment.
But it's right next to the ball hitch...if I can just lift it...
Traffic is whizzing by at 70 miles per hour on the left. I am between the trailer and the rig, trying to reconnect it.
And everyone coming this way is looking at the fire...
Just KNOW I am about to get hit, and smashed into grout between the trailer and the rig.
Between the trailer and the rig is not where I want to be.
Have to do this fast.
LIIIIFT....
Failed to get it onto the ball. But somehow managed to get my hand stuck under the trailer tongue--and unable to lift it.
Now I am STUCK...between the trailer and the rig...but not for long.
HOONNNNK!!!!
%$^$%& #%$^$#@%&#&%^!!!
Had to leave some skin on the pavement. Wrap with cloth and duct tape. On the bright side, I was already soiled from before. Look! I'm saving underwear!
Ok...idea. Start running loads of stuff; anything heavy, from the garage, around the NON-highway side--to stack it onto the back of Bunny.
Bag of rice, bag of beans, tool kit, big boxes of rocks.
Stacked onto the back--enough junk to counterweight, and allow me to lift the tongue of the trailer back onto the ball.
Hooked up! Lights destroyed, but hooked up.
Fire dept has arrived. We LOVE you guys!
Trying to look nonchalant as I finish strapping down.
<whistling tunelessly> Um...who me? No sir...that was here when I got here...no idea...
Shuffle all the junk back into the garage.
What is all this stuff off the side of the road next to me?
Its the REMAINS OF THE OTHER RIG I passed before...
Creepy. I guess I know what happened to him now.
For the next 1400 miles my hands were frozen to the wheel in a grip of death...and the window always stayed open a crack--to listen for trouble...
Which we found in Zillah, Washington.
Just 4 hours away from the campground, the helpful state police stop me.
Evidently triple tow is not allowed in the state of Washington.
They make me drop the trailer in a parking lot, four hours from my goal.
Teaching the dogs some new words as I pull out of the parking lot, leaving Bunny and all my prospecting gear behind. It would take another whole day to go back and pick her up.
Evidently I am distracted enough that I forget to put on my seat belt. And within **200 YARDS** I am pulled over again by ANOTHER helpful law enforcement officer, who helpfully slaps me with a nice ticket and another hour delay.
Don't you guys have a half mile minimum or something...c'mon!
And why is Washington so HOT...where is the AC?
It's broken.
<sigh> Adventure, adventure, adventure...can't I just fight some orcs or something? I wanna talk to my agent.
It's a happy ending though...
I finally arrived at the campground, and Stef got me all set up next door to her.
We have a little convoy now. :-) <cue C.W. McCall>
I have a job.
My first ever Workcamping gig; my title is Ranger.
ONLY YOU, [censored]!!! <CLANG! CLANG! CLANG!>
Going to be fun.
Yay for money!
And YAY for a TOTAL lack of CACTUS and venomous snakes!
And YAY for Stef...
...and two dogs and SEVEN (OMG) gliders.
Thank you GC. :-)