Livin’ the Dream … The Diaries of a Madman

[KOWBOY]

Miles later, we get to the obstacles that give Chicken Corners Road it’s name. If’n you’re chicken … then don’t go ‘round the corners. First turn has a big-ass boulder on one side and a million-and-a-half foot drop down to the Colorado River on the other. The author of the guidebook took a late-model, modified Grand Cherokee thru there and said weren’t nuthin’ to it. Reckon my junk must be bigger than a late-model, modified Grand Cherokee.

Didn’t even take no pics of the second turn. Same concept ‘cept smaller boulders on the opposite side of the drop off. Didn’t care much for it. At all.

Coupla more miles takes you to the end of the road. My initial plan was to set up camp at the overlook. Just cuz I can. But it was windy as hell. And I didn’t wanna fret all night ‘bout gettin’ back ‘round them Chicken Corners. Best get ‘er done ‘fore I lose my nerve all together.

 

[KOWBOY]

Here’s pics of both the turns on the return trip. I didn’t like it. Didn’t like it for a damned second. First time in this rig I sure wish had me a spotter.

 

[KOWBOY]

Pulled into the big turn-out soon as I got ‘round the corners to gather my wits again. And snapped a pic of the mighty Colorado.

Dang near all the ledges on this road had by-passes. But I like climbin’ ‘em. So I did.

Still early in the day but what I really wanted was a beer. Bad. So coupla miles back down the road I pulled over on this flat rock and homesteaded.

So I set in my chair and drank beer all afternoon and right into the evenin’. Very lil’ traffic. Just a few jeepers and a couple RZR’s that waved as they went by and then waved again on their return trip. But the wind was fascinatin’. I understand waves. I don’t understand wind. Seem to come from all directions in my lil’ valley. Sometimes dead calm, sometimes a good 30 knots. Dust devils ev’ry few minutes goin’ ev’ry which-a-way. It was complicated. It was mesmerizin’. It was entertainin’.



And it was a good day. A scary day … but a good day.

 

[KOWBOY]

Tuesday, 29 April

The winds finally died down at some point last night and I woke up with daylight outside the house. Time to ease on outta here back to town. I’m still a long ways in country. From the McDonald’s on Main Street at the turn off for Kane Creek Road to the overlook at the end of Chicken Corners Road is ‘bout 26 miles. I’m ‘bout 3 miles back from the overlook so still got ‘bout 23 miles outta here. Slow and easy.

Here’s a coupla shots of the Colorado River this mornin’.

I missed this one on the way in. The wash was grown up with some really nice cottonwood trees and a fella coulda backed up his camper right underneath ‘em for a sweet lil’ camp. Oh well … can’t catch ‘em all.

Kind of a neat pic here. The lil’ notch on the ridgeline just to the left of the camper is Hurrah Pass that I’m aimin’ for.

 

[KOWBOY]

It was 8 and a half miles from my camp to the top of that pass. And it took me 2 full hours. Nice. A beautiful drive on a beautiful sunny day. Had the doubler kicked in so the big diesel would just ease along in 2wd low. Kicked in the rear locker a coupla times but that was it. 2wd all the way. The entire route only had a few real obstacles and they was downhill on the way out so didn’t need 4wd like on the way in. Hard to believe this was rated on the upper end of the moderate trails. Other than the 2 scary turns at chicken corners there weren’t much to it technic’ly speakin’. But it sure was pretty. I really enjoyed Hurrah Pass both comin’ and goin’. Good road but skinny and right on the edge of the cliff. Yet enuf room for me to get by.

Then back down Kane Creek Canyon. Very, very pretty and the place to be for mountain bikers and rock climbers. And the rock crawlers as well headin’ to Kane Creek Trail, Cliff Hanger, Pritchett Canyon, and Moab Rim. Outdoor adventurers of all types. Welcome to Moab.

And at the intersection of Kane Creek Road and Main Street is a very nice, clean laundromat. New machines and even clean bathrooms. I took advantage of it to wash out all the red dirt from my clothes. Then off to visit Moab 4 X 4 … but they was closed.

So parked my junk on the side of Main Street and commenced to cruisin’ Main on foot. A few nice backpackin’ type stores and a coupla real nice southwestern art galleries … but mostly just junk for the tourists. I hate tourists.

So went into Zax restaurant on Main Street and ordered a pizza. Hawaiian deal but had too much cheese. Just my opinion. And lots of tourists. Had a great outside patio table right on Main Street tho. Great time seein’ all the dif’rent rigs goin’ by. Looked to be a classic Bronco club in town. Lots of other hardcore crawlin’ rigs as well. And lots of expedition rigs with roof top tents and awnings all over. Even an EarthRoamer and a coupla them huge rigs for travelin’ the world. Don’t think they’d make it ‘round Chicken Corners.

Heard the local bar for the locals is a place called Rios on Center Street a block off of Main. Off we go. Nice place and no tourists. As I’ve traveled from bar to bar for 27 years with my company, I’ve always said I’ll never be a local … but I’ll sure as hell never be a tourist. Had me ‘bout 5 or 12 there.

Then on my way outta town to position myself for makin’ an airport run in the mornin’. Wanna give myself plenty of time since I ain’t even gotta clue where the airport is. So north to the 70 and east towards Grand Junction. To Exit #214. Danish Flats … No Services. Been there before and know 2 thangs ‘bout it. There’s a big ol’ empty gravel yard where a fella can park his camper. And it’s 50 miles from Big Willie’s Garage. So gotta be ‘bout the same to the airport. Wherever that is.

Like I say … sometimes I camp in pretty spots … sometimes I don’t. But once it’s dark outside and you’re inside the camper … it’s all the same. And I think that’s pretty cool.

 

[KOWBOY]

Wednesday, 30 April

15 minutes. The alarm went off at 0600 local and I got on outta the bunk. Got all dressed and stowed away the camper. Fired up the truck and eased outta the parkin’ lot. At 0615. 15 minutes total. Not bad. Not bad at all.

Ate the other half of my pizza as I headed on east towards Grand Junction. There’s a Colorado Welcome Center and Rest Area in Fruita that I had noticed on my up from Vegas last week. I noticed it cuz the sign showed it had a RV dump station. So I pulled on in. Emptied the s*** tank and topped off the camper with fresh water. Still got plenty of propane. Good to go.

One thang I’ve noticed in all my travels is that normally it just ain’t a tough thang to find an airport. Stay on the highway till ya see the lil’ airplane symbol and then just follow ‘em. And Grand Junction is no exception. One turn off the 70 puts ya right here. And what a great airport. Either new or recently remodeled one. Long term lot is right in front of the terminal. Just park your junk for 9 bucks a day and walk right in. Coupla ticket counters and one security station. 6 gates total. At my gate at 0800. Now that I know the gig, certainly won’t be settin’ an alarm and won’t be getting’ here 4 hours ‘fore my flight on my next trip.

So I’ve done it. The first relocation of my junk to account for the temperature changes. Flew into Vegas … fly outta Grand Junction. Reckon be able to fly in and outta here for a good coupla months or so. Just depends when it starts gettin’ hot. Then I’ll be movin’ on again.

 

[KOWBOY]

END OF CHAPTER 4

 

[KOWBOY]

CHAPTER 5

Sunday, 11 May 2014 … Mother’s Day

7 years, 4 months, and 9 days. That’s how long it’s been since Momma died in her sleep in my house in Elwood, TX. I was workin’ a project up in Salem, Mass at the time. I don’t just know the number of days today ‘cause it’s Mother’s Day. No sir. I know ‘em any day of the year. And ev’ry day of the year. Year in … year out. ‘Cause I reckon a part of me died that day as well. And without a doubt … it was the best part.

I ain’t sure if’n Momma would approve of me aimlessly wanderin’ ‘round the country or not. I suspect and fear she wouldn’t. But one thang I AM sure of is that it’s a damned-fine line ‘tween wanderin’ to somethin’ and wanderin’ from somethin’. But whichever the case may be … that’s why I’m sittin’ here in Designated Campin’ Spot #2 off Gemini Bridges Road just north of Moab on a cold, windy, and wet evenin’. And eatin’ fried chicken. Rather mediocre fried chicken at that.

So Friday I flew to Dallas and made the trek out to Elwood in a rental car. Josh Baker was getting’ married and asked me to come. The Baker clan’s closest thang I got to family so off I went. Great to see lots of old friends. Ceremony on Saturday evenin’ was beautiful. Texas style outdoor deal under a big-ass oak tree in the front pasture. Mes’kin food cooked on sight and a coupla bands. Josh Baker knows how to throw a party. Seems to me that personally my marriages were the direct cause of my divorces. But I sure wish ‘em well. Always take away great memories when I visit Elwood. Lived there longer than anyplace else since I got outta college. But I also always leave somethin’ behind when I visit Elwood. Tears in the cemetery over Momma’s grave. And each one contains a piece of my soul.

So today was back to the Dallas airport and hop a bird to Grand Junction, CO. Landed right after a rain storm but was a dry walk the short distance out to my junk. Quick walk around and put some fire in the hole. Ease on down the street to a big ol’ Safeway I done spied on my way outta town last time and grub up. Hit a truck stop on the way out and top off the fuel tank. Rain had set back in. Had heard ‘bout a road that follows the Colorado River right into Moab instead of takin’ the interstate and Highway 191. Lil’ research on the atlas at the truck stop proved this to be a fact. And the funny part is that the cut off is at Exit #214. That’s right … Danish Flats … no services. Took a few miles to get to the river but then it sure was a pretty drive from then on. Nice, twisty two-lane.

Checked out some of the campgrounds along the river. Not bad I reckon but payin’ 15 bucks to be right next to a coupla gay guys tent campin’ out of a Kia ain’t my preference. So went on into Moab and headed straight to the Rio Bar. No decent scenery there tho so eased on north of town back to Gemini Bridges Road. You can see here the highway goin’ south into Moab down in the valley.

Which brings me to Designated Campin’ Spot #2. Certainly nothin’ to brag about but it’s fairly close to town, isolated, and free.

 

[KOWBOY]

Monday, 12 May

Uh-oh … it’s … the Po-Po. Johnny Law. Moab P.D. And he jammed his cruiser sideways right in front of my junk. No escape. Trapped like a rat. Please keep your hands in plain sight ...

Only had two rigs go by my humble lil’ camp yesterday evenin’. And both went on to the end of the campin’ area and passed back by on their way out. Woke up this mornin’ to daylight in the camper. I swear I wish the hotels I stay in would buy their beds from Hallmark. Daylight but no sunshine. Ain’t rainin’ but sure looks like it’s fixin’ to. Cold too. Only 38. Got chores to do in town so pour me up a huge bowl of Frosted Flakes and break camp. On my way out I see a Ty-ota truck done snuck into the first campin’ spot and set up a tent. I figure if’n I gotta run my furnace to comfortably eat my bowl of Frosted Flakes sittin’ in my camper, it’s too cold to be in a tent. Gawd luv ‘em.

On my way back over the narrow Gemini Bridges Road I come across two Excursions haulin’ tourists on a guided 4wd deal. Reckon certainly a sensible vehicle to haul tourists around in. But a damned big rig to squeeze by my big rig. We found some turn-offs and was able to work it out tho. I do love a happy endin’.

Been hearin’ a funny noise comin’ from under the hood lately. Sorta sounds like a bearin’ goin’ bad or somethin’. Funny noises under the hood ain’t good when ya travel alone and go deep in country. So pulled into Moab Ford for a diagnosis. Them Fellas went absolut’ly ape-s*** over my junk. Proclaimed it to be the finest 7.3 they’d ever seen. Whatever … so what’s makin’ the noise? After further review, the main mechanic found that the pulley on my new power steerin’ pump had worked its way inward and was scrapin’ against a bolt head. He pulled the pulley out some and the noise is gone. Took ‘im a coupla hours to cipher thru it all but they only charged me an hours labor. Cuz he said he spent at least an hour crawlin’ ‘round the rig and showin’ it to others. Mighty fine. Hope it stays fixed. Time will tell.

Seen a store across the street named Gearheads and went to check it out. Imagine ev’rythang that’s in an REI store jammed in a store a fourth its size. What a great lil’ store to walk thru. Real deal.

So then down to the laundrymat. I’m sittin’ in the cab of my junk weedin’ thru the guidebooks to see where to go next while my clothes is in the washin’ machine. Watchin’ my watch so’s I can go back in and chunk ‘em in the dryin’ machine. One of my ex-wives was always bitchin’ ‘bout doin’ laundry. I tried pointin’ out that I’d done spent a hefty sum of cash on two machines to do it for her. Ain’t like she had to haul buckets of water up from the crick and scrub ‘em on a washboard. But she just kept on bitchin’. Reckon that’s what bitches do.

Had me half a notion to ease on into Canyonlands National Park and run the White Rim trail. It’s like a hun’erd miles long and figure it’d be perfect for my junk. Then I started readin’ all the fine print. Entry fees and backcountry fees. Only a half dozen or so campin’ spots along the way and they’re booked online up to 6 months in advance for this time of year. And no pets. Even if they stay in the vehicle. Now I ain’t got no dog. But I sure wish I could. And I certainly like most dogs better than most people. Since my two weeks at work is heavily involved with dealin’ with federal regulations, I just don’t wanna deal with ‘em on my time off. Need me a Plan B. Which is ‘bout the same time the cop pulled in front of me.

Johnny Law said he done seen me come into town but lost sight of me ‘till now. He said he had a modified FJ Cruiser with a roof-top tent that he uses to go explorin’ but was thinkin’ bout movin’ up to a rig like mine. Lots of questions. He certainly knew his stuff tho. Great conversation. He was surprised to hear where I’d been ‘round these parts and offered up some advice on some primo scenery in the area that my junk could easily accomplish. That’s good stuff right there.

So off I go with all my clean clothes and backtrack north to Highway 128. The same road I came in on. ‘Bout 20 miles to Onion Creek Road. Basic’ly a 2wd dirt road but it sure is a purdy one. Here’s lookin’ up one of the kerbillion lil’ creek crossin’s.

LOVE the traffic sign tellin’ ya to go to the right.

A major phallic symbol on the ridgeline.

Road got skinny in places.

My guidebook plainly states “Cross small bridge at 3.6 miles”. It don’t say nothin’ ‘bout no weight limit.

Now notice I took the pic after I done crossed it. I figure there’s a 30% safety factor in the construction design. So even if age and deterioration reduces that by 10%, we’re still at 20%. And my junk’s only 10% too heavy. We gotta be good. Right?? I did drink me a beer ‘fore I went across tho to lighten the load.

 

[KOWBOY]

Road followed the creek for a good ways and then took a serious climb outta the valley. Here’s lookin’ over to the La Sal Mountains. The rains that hit us left fresh snow up there.

Once the road got to the top of the plateau, it flattened right out. A big ranch could be seen off to the right. And straight ahead of me down the road and comin’ at me, a ranch truck could be seen. Big ol’ Dodge dually with a western hauler bed. And he was all over the road. Strange. ‘Bout that same time, my junk stopped. One rear tire just spinnin’ away. Road looked exactly the same as what I’d been drivin’ on but it had turned slicker than goose snot. Was only sinkin’ in a few inches but ain’t got no traction. Fortunately I’m in the habit of lockin’ the front hubs in when I hit these trails so I flipped the lever to kick in the front axle and away I went. Hit both lockers too so I’d sling as lil’ mud as possible. And the Dodge went slidin’ on by me. What a crazy deal. And, by the way, the guidebook does mention “slippery when wet” for this section.

At 9.6 miles up Onion Creek Road, a fella comes to a fork in the road. If’n ya go to the right, you’d be on a moderate-rated trail named Thompson Canyon that goes up into the mountains. Knew it’s too early in the season for that so I went to the left. Which goes to a difficult-rated trail named Rose Garden Hill. The pics in the guidebook show a nasty quarter mile of steep ledges that require “lockers and high ground clearance”. But the pics showed plenty of room … even for a pregnant billy goat. Had me some thoughts of tryin’ it. But the road to get there was just a muddy mess. Came to a crossin’ for a ravine and there weren’t no way I was gonna try that by myself. Stuff was so slick it was hard to even walk to take a pic.

Here’s a pic goin’ back across the plateau. Tracks are just from me and that dually. Hate to think I’d have to go thru this all the time just to go fetch groceries. Good thang it don’t rain here much. Wonder what he does in the winter tho?

Back on solid ground, you can see the road followin’ the ridgeline back down into the valley.

 

[KOWBOY]

Which brought me back down to Designated Camp Spot #7. This is lookin’ north.

All the creek crossin’s had lil’ ledges due to the heavy rains. Sorta like bouncin’ down a curb. A whole bunch of curbs. I was tired so pulled on in. Some kind soul had left a bunch of firewood. Sweet. Still overcast and only ‘bout 50 degrees. Fire felt good. Sun did finally break thru and warmed thangs up a bit. Here’s a pic lookin’ south from my camp.

Had enuf wood for ‘bout 4 hours worth of fire. Just right. Right at dark and right chilly I crawled in my home. Ain’t seen nary a soul drive by. Not a bad place. Thank you Johnny Law.

 

[KOWBOY]

Tuesday, 13 May

Top of the mornin’ to ya … and I think I’ll head to the Top of the World today.

Woke up to daylight and not a cloud in the sky. ‘Bout time. Gonna be a long time ‘fore the sun hits my camp tho sittin’ right below this ridge. Cooked me up some eggs, bacon, and pancakes. Been a long time. Too long. Then commenced to easin’ on back down the road as the sun was fightin’ it’s way down to the valley floor. Here’s a shot of the road headin’ back into the tight canyon. Other pics didn’t turn out no good. Just too sharp a contrast ‘tween the sunshine and the shadows for my limited photographic skills.

Mornin’ wood up on the ridgeline.

Back out on Highway 128 and headin’ North. Less than a mile is the turn-off for Fisher Towers Road. It just goes to a hikin’ trailhead but mize well check it out. Didn’t take long to go to the end and back but did snap a nice pic lookin’ ‘cross the way.

‘Nother 9 miles up 128 gets ya to Dewey. Maybe it used to be a town. Now only seen one farmhouse. This is where ya turn to get on the Dolores River Overlook Road. Also the location of the historic Dewey Bridge. Built in 1911 for the sum of 25 grand, it linked Moab to Grand Junction. Which evidently was a big deal in 1911. Sign says it was restored in 2000 and served as a crossin’ for the Kokopelli’s Bike Trail.. My guidebook says to make sure to take the time to walk across it. Time’s have changed. Ain’t nothin’ left nowadays ‘cept the suspension cables and the towers.

Guidebook also says that the creek crossin’ at mile 1.8 is usually shallow. Reckon so.

 

[KOWBOY]

Mile 5.2 is the turn-off for the Top of the World Trail. Rated difficult. And it turned serious quick. Locked up and geared down. Off I go. Most serious rock crawlin’ I’ve done yet. Real, REAL slow go to keep the camper from bouncin’ off and the truck from breakin’. This is definitely a crawler trail … not an RV trail. But I kept at it.

 

[KOWBOY]

Stairstep ledges and lots of rocks. Several spots were tight in the trees too. Damn it was slow go. Had the Atlas in low and just eased along. She pulled good but did I mention how slow it was?

 

[KOWBOY]

After 3 miles of low-gear crawlin’, a fella comes to this ledge. The guidebook states this fact but the pic is as outdated as the Dewey Bridge info. The ledge had been eaten out bad. The guidebook pic looked doable. The ledge in front of me didn’t.

Come this far tho so mize well try to crawl it. Put the Atlas in stupid low and the tranny in low. First of all, I was surprised when my front bumper cleared and I actu’ly got my tires against it. At that point, all four tires started spinnin’ in place slowly as expected. But I moved the steerin’ wheel back and forth some and the front end popped up. Unbelievable.

So I let ‘er ease on ‘till the rear tires was against the ledge.

But she just wouldn’t crawl it. I don’t like rejection. Not at all. My ol’ Cruiser woulda walked it. But I ain’t in a designated trail rig and I ain’t on a trail run with a bunch of friends. I’m drivin’ my home. It’s all I own. And I’m alone. Thoughts of easin’ back and bumpin ‘er some, airin’ down some, or maybe even pullin’ cable for the first time all raced thru my mind. But that just ain’t what Livin’ the Dream’s all about. I need to live to fight another day. Sacrifice the battle so I can win the war type deal.

Just flat-out ain’t gonna make it to the Top of the World.

So I tucked my tail … backed off … and turned around. And made a three mile retreat eatin’ a big ol’ slice of humble pie. Very, VERY slowly back down. Was kinda nice tho with the Atlas and tranny both in low, I rarely had to hit the brakes. But it took longer than the second comin’ of Christ. And I burned an ungawdly amount of fuel goin’ up and back on that road.

So much so, that my plans to continue on to the Dolores River Overlook as Johnny Law had recommended were in peril. Already made one smart decision so mize well make it two. Best head back towards town rather than away from it. But I’m damned tired of bouncin’ ‘round. I wanna park this thang and drink beer.

Swung into Cowskin Campground to scope it out. Free campin’ but that was overpriced. Remembered a nice spot in the cottonwoods right at Dewey Bridge so kept on easin’ on back down the gravel road. But somebody done took it since I seen it earlier in the day. Bummer. So back down 128 I go towards Moab. But I don’t really wanna get to Moab. No place to camp in town. But the thought of them lil’ campgrounds along the way didn’t appeal none to me neither. But gotta drive back by Onion Creek Road. Perfect. 2 miles off the blacktop put me in Designated Camp Spot #2. Free and no neighbors. Real low on fuel. Time for beer.

 

[KOWBOY]

Here’s some pics I took walkin’ ‘round behind the camp spot. Camera in one hand … beer in the other.

 

[KOWBOY]

And the big ol’ moon risin’.

 

[KOWBOY]

Wednesday, 14 May

One of the best thangs ‘bout this lifestyle is you never know where you’re gonna spend the night. And one of the worst thangs ‘bout this lifestyle … is you never know where you’re gonna spend the night.

Cooked up my breakfast again, and again I’m behind a mesa so ain’t gonna be no sunshine soon on the rig. No biggie. Least there is sunshine again. Lookin’ like gonna be ‘nother beautiful day in the southwest. I gotta get to town and get fuel. And beer. And water and propane.

On the way, the sunrise was tryin’ to get down to the Colorado as Highway 128 twists along beside ‘er.

With the chores done, the thought of doublin’ all the way back to Dewey to hit some more trails I wanna run didn’t appeal too much. Since I gotta be down ‘round Flagstaff on Thursday anyhows, I thought I’d just go on and start easin’ south. So I did.

Some real pretty country to the south of Moab. Lots and lots of roads headin’ out off the highway that are gonna need to be explored someday. Here’s Wilson Arch. Conveniently located right along the highway so it’s not even necessary to exit your vehicle to get a nice pic. Most excellent.

And I keep rollin’ south. Monticello and Blanding are both cool lil’ towns. Although I didn’t see a bar in neither one. After I passed thru Bluff, I opted to take highway 163 rather than stay on 191. End up in the same place but 163 has been designated a scenic byway by some level of gover’ment or another. Whole dif’rent scenery in these parts. Monument Valley on the horizon. This is John Wayne country By Gawd. But I’m faced again with the continuin’ dilemma of where the hell I’m gonna sleep. Don’t need to be down ‘round Flagstaff ‘till tomorrow afternoon. And don’t wanna do an RV park or a hotel. So pull over and study some of my maps. Before I get to the town of Mexican Hat, I see where I can turn off and go a short ways to Goosenecks State Park. Even tho my map ain’t got no campin’ symbol there I figure it’s worth a shot since it’s a state park. As I pull in, there’s a fleet of rental motorhomes parked in a parkin’ lot. Sign says day use is a buck and campin’ is ten bucks. Off to the left is a dirt circle with ‘bout 6 picnic tables here and there. Off to the right is a pit toilet. Utah spared no expense on this here park. The jist of the place is a phenomenal view of some serious turns in the San Juan River … thus the goosenecks.

Looks like a road continues on past the dirt circle of picnic tables so I head that away. And it steadily gets worser and worser. Turn around and pay my ten bucks and then hit the road again. Soon it’s like a lil’ jeeper trail. Don’t get goin’ too fast tho, there’s a helluva drop off right on the horizon.

 

[KOWBOY]

The end of the road is a single campin’ spot. Mighty fine. To really ‘preciate this campin’ spot you’d need an aerial photo. 30 feet to either side of me and behind me there’s a billion foot drop down to the river. Not hot, but warm enough where I thought I’d run my awnin’ out for the first time. Just cuz. Makes for a nice lookin’ camp. And I’d know how to do it tomorrow if I need to set it up in camp.

This pic is taken close to the edge and lookin’ back down the road. It’s a long ways to havin’ any neighbors. To the left just below the mesa, the white spot is one of the motorhomes in the campin’ area. Don’t like to pay to camp but this was ten bucks well spent.

So I take a few pics and walk around a bit … then settle into my chair to finish my beer. Awnin’ been deployed ‘bout a half hour. A dust devil came up on my blind side on the driver’s side of the truck. I saw the truck move and heard the wind. Been in the desert plenty long enuf to know what was up. I leaped up outta my chair and tried to grab the awning with my right hand. My left hand went to the top of my hat to hold it on. Too late to grab the awnin’. It shot straight up in the air and ripped right off the camper. And my chair flew up right beside me to join it. With my can of beer still in the cup holder. The chair and the awning landed ‘bout 20 feet away and thankfully didn’t fly over the edge of the cliff. My hat stayed on my head. There was a few swallers left in my beer but they done got spilt out. Chair survived the ordeal. Awning was destroyed. Unbelievable. Didn’t see it comin’ … it was just there. Here’s the side of the camper where some screws pulled out of the one bracket and another bracket is all bent to hell.

I got the awnin’ wadded back up best I could with the help of my small sledge hammer on the frameworks.

I’m hopin’ I can open up both the slidin’ window on the front of the camper and the back of the cab so I can stick one end into the cab with me so I can even haul it out of the park and try to find a dumpster. But that’s tomorrow’s worry. Not today.

 

[KOWBOY]

Meanwhile, so maybe y’all are wonderin’ what the blue can is on the top of my bumper box that appears in all these pics. It does sorta stick out. My camper ain’t gotta a grey water tank. And all it’s got is the kitchen sink. It drains directly out the camper. Normally in the desert or the woods, I hook up the short hose I made up and let it drain onto the ground instead of runnin’ down the side of the truck. But parks frown upon that so you run the hose into the blue jug. Then you can empty the jug into an approved location. In other words, the blue can is my portable grey tank.