A New Skirt...

The Fox has proven to be quite dependable...

Very little maintenance required and she is holding up well with our full-timer demands.

She just had the 10,000 mile wheel bearing maintenance completed and passed the annual PA safety inspection...whoo hoo...

We are ready to hit the road again!

We are comfortable on Windy Hill and it is easy to remain hunkered down at home...

But yet, we have an urge to travel. 

Unfortunately, with the whole Covid confusion, those plans remain a bit "fluid".

We don't have health fears for ourselves, in fact, Judy experienced classic Covid symptoms early this year while at OBX...before it made the headlines. 

It's just concern about the unknowns...State governments getting crazy about interstate travel...

J wants to stay through Christmas this year...so we may not depart Windy Hill till after January 10th, the 2nd anniversary of her 49th birthday.

Thinking about heading straight south when we leave...and hoping the Florida Jumpers don't get kicked out of their state between now and then...so we can visit them.

Remember guys, try to behave!

And we can't pass through NC without stopping to check up on two favorite nieces...

Just hoping D&J might be able to carve 15 minutes out of their busy schedules to join us over a cup of joe...

Otherwise it will be just us and the girls!!! 

And in spite of Covid, we have other very compelling needs to head south at some point soon...

A few weeks ago, we ran out of "White Lily Self Rising Best Buttermilk Biscuits Ever" flour. 

Judy ordered an emergency air-lift (life flight copters will do house calls) for a 5 pound bag so we could make some 'Sunday morning hot buttermilk biscuits with honey' for Jennifer's last visit.

And that little 5 pound emergency ration of flour won't last long.

Just hope we don't get pulled over coming home from our travel...

Smuggling 300 pounds of fine white powder north, across the Mason/Dixon line is a terrible offense!!!

Last year, we left for the Outer Banks on Dec 11th...this year it will be a month later before we leave the Hill...

So knowing we'll have 30 more days of winter has resulted in some other late fall activities.

The Fox normally carries two 40 pound RV propane tanks hidden away in a storage bay.  Each are twice the size of a typical BBQ grill propane tank.

We ran all summer using less than one tank for the stove...a combination of the large size of the tank, the efficiency of the stove...and not cooking! 

When there's no electricity available, the propane can also power the frig and water heater...

And in the winter, The Fox also uses the propane for the furnace.

It is the furnace which has an addiction to propane gas huffing.

 

So last winter I got to know the guys at the propane refill station pretty well...first name basis kind of well...let me show you pictures of the fish I caught last week kind of well...hey, you want to come over for dinner kind of well...

I got to see them often...too often!

So this year we had some ginormous propane tanks brought in for The Fox.

What a concept! 

They actually deliver propane to us, rather than having to go get it!!!

I love America!   What will they think of next???

In spite of having a propane habit, the Fox is considered one of the better four season rigs by the RV industry...and highly recommended for crazy full-timers living in Siberia...or on Windy Hill.

It has full insulation top, bottom and sides, plus additional features like heat in the underbelly to keep the water tanks thawed...

But it's still an RV...

And based on what we learned last winter during the -14 degrees of Blanca, Colorado...

We can make it even better!

So with all the free time we now have from not going after propane, we are adding a skirt to The Fox.

Basically a wood frame covered tight with two inches of rigid foam to block the wind from getting under the RV. 

It should help provide a buffer from the coldest of winter days. 

Now about 75% complete, we plan to finish it up mid-week.

It's solid and tight, but not permanent...should be relatively easy to take down, store flat and reinstall again later if desired...

In addition to blocking wind, it should help hold heat in the critical areas.

So com'on Old Man Winter, we've got propane and we've got skirts...

We're ready...

Give us your best shot!!!

 

Oh, and Friday's forecast    ->   1 to 3 inches...

And it's still only October!!!

Let the adventure continue...

Markers...

Sometimes, I wish winter had the same kind of markers as spring and fall... 

Something meaningful and visible to measure its progress...the one season which seems to start early and never ends soon enough.

You can easily mark the progression of spring with the broad hillsides starting to blush with a tint of red...

The bulging of buds ready to burst, an early tease of the green leaves to come...

A visible marker to start warming hearts still yet frozen...

I start looking for that red blush in November...

J thinks I might be a bit premature...

And then again, she also thinks I might be a bit immature...

Two words which rhyme, with vastly different meanings...

And love her as I do...and try as I might...

I don't seem able to change my actions...(well, maybe a few, since I now wait till January before I announce seeing the first red of spring in the trees, but don't let her know!) 

And once it starts, it's the roadside bushes which show first, bright and fresh...the tiniest spots of green... 

And once that fresh yellow-green of early spring shows...

It becomes a favorite time...full of promise...

With more and more leaf tips emerging, ever increasing specks of bright color, as if Monet dot painted the landscape.

For the trees, it's the Willows, the first brave enough to show their leaves early in the spring, another dependable marker...

Then a crescendo of spring as the rest of the trees and plants and flowers seemingly explode with bursts of color...

Each are visible markers...announcing the progress of spring in full motion, ushering in awareness of the summer to follow...

And fall is similar with its own set of visible markers...

The first scattered oranges painting the tips of a few scattered branches...initial drops of vivid color on a very green canvas...

Then the early adopters...overnight, the brilliance of the Red Sumac everywhere...

Cascading into the firey oranges, reds and yellows of the Maples...

Then a maturing...with the golds, sienna and rusts of mid-fall.

With the Oak and Poplar...stealing the stage in late fall. 

Look closely and you can discern the day by day progression...the measured markers of fall...

On Windy Hill, it is nearing the Blue Moon of October, and the hills are showing off their late season patchwork, only a few yellows from the Poplar remain on an otherwise leaf barren landscape...

And the mornings in late fall start foggy on Windy Hill, another marker...as the lake grudgingly hands over its hoard of summer heat...

With the mist finally clearing as the sun rises to warm the shortening day.

And the deer seem to graze our field longer on those foggy mornings...

I find the dance, the flowing give and take between the sun and the fog to be peaceful...

            ...calming...

            ...almost comforting. 

This past Thursday, perhaps the last venture with rod in hand...might have been my final marker - my homage to the passing of fall...

Yet, Cowanesque was warmer than I would have thought this late in the season...60 degrees...

Maybe the reason for a few bright leaves still remaining at the water's edge...

It's a bit sad in a sense...

The once vibrant hills, with a magnificent thick coat of many colors...grown old and feeble...

Yet still wearing that old mantle...now threadbare and worn...with but a patch or two of yellow remaining...

Seemingly insufficient to protect from the cold probing winds of November.

And winter IS coming to Windy Hill...

Endless and interminable...

Yet, perhaps that is something to investigate...we can call it another adventure? 

I wonder if winter may too have markers which measure its progress?!!

But for now...

Just for the moment...

I treasure those last leaves of late fall...

Still holding tight...

I've always considered never-give-up tenacity to be a quality...

Let the adventure continue...

Fortitude...

Just finished a good book...

Fortitude by Dan Crenshaw....

A SEAL with 10 years of service, then wounded in Afghanistan, recovered and elected to Congress in 2018.

He tells his life story, along with detailing the dangers from participating in the rise of the hyper-sensitive "victim" mentality in America (where one blames everybody else for everything that happens to them, rather than accepting personal responsibility for their life).

Interesting perspective coming from a SEAL, where their most fundamental training and core purpose in life is to take total responsibility and more importantly full accountability for their personal actions...the total opposite of victimhood. 

His description of today's America brought to mind Ayn Rand's Atlas Shrugged.

First published in 1957...it's was (and still is!) a warning for the hidden but inevitable and absolute destruction resulting from socialism and marxism.

I first read it in the 90's...my second read was late 2013.

Both times, the malaise described in the book was prescient...a warning for the future.

Reading it again now... 

The conditions described are here...now...in America today.

Makes my heart hurt.

We can't hide from the reality of how America is being purposely attacked...

Socialism will be the death of America.

Recommend reading both...Crenshaw first...

Another favorite, Jordan Peterson, speaks of getting your own space right before you try to fix the world...

So read the books, then do something as simple as taking personal responsibility and accountability for your own life...

Our children's and grandchildren's futures are at stake.

They need to see our real examples of how we respond responsibly to life...

So they can see firsthand, and then learn to develop their own personal accountability and responsibility by rightly living their own lives.

I fundamentally believe the essence of life is in the creation of worthy dreams...which generate pull and motivation...and then going after them...

Taking personal responsibility and accountability for attaining realization.

It's the total opposite of being a victim, expecting somebody else to provide everything to you.

One of my Northstars...

SUCCESS is the progressive realization of worthwhile dreams or goals...

It isn't 'having arrived'...it's not a destination.

Someone who is a success is one who is applying action over time to achieve their goals...they're in pursuit...

Even if the rest of the world is playing the victim, wallowing in a socialist pigpen, squealing for slop.

Working towards, and eventually realizing long-held dreams and goals is core to what makes life worth living!

Let the adventure continue... 

BIG Boned...(Flashback)

Back on March 1st, we published an initial update on our visit to Zion...but it deserves so much more than what was originally mentioned...

But first, a message from our sponsors:

If you are feeling tired, worn out and no energy - 

That means you're over 60. 

So go ahead and pay the one-time $80 bucks to get a lifetime - all inclusive Senior Pass to access allll 62 National Parks, and hundreds of National Preserves and National Monuments...

And the Senior Pass covers the entry fee for everyone in the vehicle, no matter their age! 

It's good for you - good for America - 

And will help cure bunions and warts.

Now, there are two ways to drive into Zion National Park...

We recommend the East entrance...the Mount Carmel highway!

And our Zion adventure actually started at the Ranger Station at the East entrance...

Rather than the customary "Thank You for showing your Senior Pass Mr. James - here's your Park map, go right ahead"...instead they said, 

"That will be $15 dollars...Thank You".

Now, Clyde is what we call 'big boned', or sometimes we say 'wide in the hips'...he's a dually, slightly raised...he's an intimidating big truck!

The Ranger called him "fat".  I asked them not to say it so loud.  He may be big, but he's sensitive. 

To add further insult, they were charging us $15 bucks just because of Fat Clyde!

You see, the East entrance has a mile long tunnel built for two-way traffic, the Mt. Carmel tunnel, built in 1930 - but built to 1930 car standards, only 21 feet wide, narrow and twisty.

So with "fat" vehicles, anything over 7 feet 10 inches wide, they have to stop the traffic in one direction to allow the fat mobiles to drive down the middle of the tunnel.

That will be $15 bucks please to stop the traffic!

But it's worth it to use the East entrance!!!

 - Spoiler Alert - 

So envision being the first fat vehicle in a long line of fat vehicles, a relaxing drive down the center of a dark, winding tunnel...preparing to exit the tunnel...

And when you reach the tunnel end...

You are launched out into mid-air, suspended a few thousand feet above the canyon floor.

And you think fast...death gripping the steering wheel with tight clinched fingers...

Wait...I entered the tunnel at ground level...yet I'm exiting the tunnel, suspended in thin air, 2000 feet above the valley floor...

With only a two foot tall roadside barrier to hold you back from plunging to the valley floor far, far below...

Me, I just closed my eyes and let Clyde figure it out... 

It ain't for the faint of heart! 

But it's stunning!!!

When you pop out of the dark, narrow tunnel...

You're slapped in the face with bright sunshine...

And one of the most colorful, wide panoramic views with multishades of ochre, sienna and green, ever imagined.

It was epic...

Sheer visual overload. 

I actually started to cry...I had to pull off the road...really...it was that stunningly beautiful...

Now, I'm told that real men do cry...and emotion is OK...don't push it down...just don't let it control you...(how did I do on that Jens?) 

But even now, writing this flashback 7 months later, just thinking about that sight, the beauty upon emerging from the tunnel, I am doing it through tears...

It was awesome...a word so often overused that I seldom ever use it.

This truly was.

And the Mormons have named every peak, every overlook, every rock formation...

I'll not bore you with all that, but will (finally!) go silent and let you enjoy some scenery...

Once you maneuver the twisty switchbacks and finally get down to the valley floor, there are a series of park roads, the Visitor Center and hikes...lots of hikes.  

Early March was not too busy, so we chose one of the favorites, a hike on the river trail, a 2 mile dry hike up to the source end of the main river running through the valley.

One can then continue on further into the canyon, called 'The Narrows', either hiking in the river getting your feet wet, else hiking in waders.

Since we packed in water, but no waders...

...we chose to finish this part of our Zion adventure at the water's edge!

We made one last scrappy little hike on our way out of the park.  It was mentioned in our original post.

It was not a long trail, but narrow and high...not like thousands of feet high, which was saved for the final vista at the destination...

But 30 and 40 foot high drop offs, enough to hurt, but maybe not kill you...and with only a 2 foot wide walking trail at some points...

Some of it underneath caprock overhangs... 

And one section with a hand rail...

But most sections left little margin for error.

And a herd of desert mountain goats were the welcoming committee at the destination...

And once again, the Destination was worthy of the Journey!

Zion Valley...late afternoon...

From 2000 feet above the valley floor...

And two adventurers...

Still loving each other...

And still loving the journey...

In reflection while writing this flashback...now 7 months later...

I was truly unprepared for the beauty of Zion in Utah...

And ya' know...

I can't even begin to imagine how much greater the beauty of the real Zion will be...

Let the adventure continue...

FU...(Flashback)

What happens in Vegas stays in Vegas...

But I'm telling the world what happened in Vegas - well, at least the two people that read this blog!

                 ...FU...

 You know...'Fooled Us'...the world famous FU Trophy...up close and in person!

Anyone who's ever watched magic on TV with Penn & Teller will be familiar with the FU trophy...

It's only won rarely, by someone able to mystify the highly experienced and knowledgeable pair of magicians, who have 'seen it all - and done it all'. 

While living back in NJ...way back in the old days when we had TV...

J would record the Penn & Teller show to watch while we ate Cheesey Noodles...

It was a win/win...

Her favorite meal, watching one of her favorite shows...

So I secretly arranged our National Park Adventure to get us close to Vegas...with the excuse of staying in Pahrump, Nevada, at the "Pair A Dice" - another Escapee RV park.

We've found SKP parks to be some of the nicest, friendliest...and reliably well kept of all places we've stayed.

And so, while there, I surprised Judy with tickets to her favorite show - Penn & Teller Live in Las Vegas!

Dinner and a show...

Doing Vegas right! 

The dinner was great - fine Italian right on the strip...

And the show was such good fun!

Penn & Teller come across on their TV show as being friendly and warm...

And they were even more so in their live performance. 

Penn on stage 45 minutes before the show start...

Jamming with some pretty good jazz from his bass fiddle...

He was also welcoming people as the crowd started to filter in...

And he asked us to join him on stage!!!

Well  actually - 

As he played ahead of the show start...

He invited everyone to come down front...

To go up on stage and get photos taken...

And to check out some of the props used during the show...

Now who else would do that??? 

Such good fun...and we lucked out with great seats!

The selfie doesn't show it well, but four rows from the stage, and with nearly a full house by showtime. 

In looking back, it's not that we recall any specific illusion...but it was the overall warmth and friendlyness of both gentlemen which made it so enjoyable.

It wasn't like a big Las Vegas production - it was more intimate...

As if we were guests in their living room, with them sharing some of their illusions and "magic"...with us personally. 

And oh, the dinner at the fine Italian restaurant on the Vegas strip - 

...don't cha' know it...

The Wild Woman ordered Cheesey Noodles!!!

Love that Girl...whether hiking boots and skeeter spray or high heels and mascara - - - 

Let the adventure continue...

Jus' Thinking On a Rainy Day...

Tool nostalgia is interesting...maybe it's a quality...

...more likely a disease - 

Which I suspect mostly infects old men.

Now everyone loves a new gadget...maybe a new phone...a new cooking utensil...a new grease gun...or something as simple as a new pen.

But tool nostalgia is not about new tools, or the cost of a tool, or even usability of a particular tool, but the meaning an old tool holds for the individual.

Real treasure is an old hatchet...

...last used in the hand of a long missed Dad...and the 'like it just happened yesterday' memories as an 8 year old, watching intently as he deftly split kindling for a campfire.

Or a Grandfather's old shovel - metal worn thin, yet with the linseeded handle, smoothed from work in his calloused hands, still holding firm...

...now hung in a place of respect...

Simply to keep the memories of Granddad and his handed-down work ethic living on...

And likely many have memories of a particular tool no longer in hand...maybe it was a pocket knife...a watch...or even finger nail clippers...which used to be - but exist no more. 

An item you long to be able to hold again...not for its value - 

But because of the precious memories for the person who once used it...

Let the adventure continue...

Sweet Night Air...

 

This one is short...but important to mention.

It's another post about...Serendipity...

You just need to look to find them...

...they are all around you! 

The Fox is...well...smallish. 

At least I thought that until today, when I took her in to get her 10,000 mile wheel bearing maintenance.

She filled up the service bay at the RV shop.  The owner and mechanic were both commenting on her large size...and ahhhhm, weight.

I guess maybe that's OK if you're an RV...not so good if they are saying that about you...

But I don't want to say that too loud or too publicly.

The Fox stays up on the latest news, but I don't think she reads this blog, so no risk of hurting her feelings...

In fact, the reality is this blog viewership is only .8 readers...

...and I'm fairly sure that hyper-optimistic count does not include The Fox.

But her size has benefits.

The bedroom has a bump-out, slide out, extension, wart...call it whatever you want, and it's right where the bed goes.

And the bump out is designed to fit a Queen sized bed...

With us both huffing and puffing, we were able to get our King sized 'Sleep Number 8' to fit into the space quite nicely.

Well, it actually took a serious, almost heroic struggle, but now it fits nicely!

And the good part...

The Fox has two windows in the bumpout...one on each side of the bed.  Right at the head of the bed. 

From the ground, they are both 10 feet up...but when in the Fox, they are a purrrfect head-laying-on-a-pillow height when going to sleep.

Those two windows are just right there...6 inches from your face there...

...and they O.P.E.N!!!

It is the best setup ever!

On those cold nights in the high desert...

       ...to have the 'Sleep Number' set at 80...

       ...the heated mattress pad set on 2...

       ...the comforter pulled up, snuggled tightly to your chin...

       ...and that cool, sweet 40 degree desert night air drifting in through those open windows...right in your face...

Pure magic...

And that same in your face, sweet cool breeze is found on Windy Hill!!!

Forecast for Friday night: 29 degrees...Saturday night: 36 degrees...

Baby, turn on the bed warmer...and open those windows! 

There is NO finer sleep anywhere!

Let the adventure continue...

First Date.....(Flashback)

Do you remember your first date?

Stop reading this long enough to pause and think back...

Try hard to recall...

Let's see...maybe it was back in '67...or was it '72...maybe in 2003 for a few of you...

I remember my first date...just like it was yesterday...it was - 

             February 22, 2020

I remember where too - we went to the China Ranch.

I'm sure it was my first date...alas, Judy said it was not hers...

Ahhh, but that first date was memorable...

And we both liked it...so much in fact, we had another date right after the first!

Yup, that first date, and our second were both at The China Ranch Date Farm in Tecopa.

So good they were - that we bought a pound of them...and kept them in the refrigerator in The Fox!

Seems that back in the day...like in 1900...a China man (that's what the sign said) figured out that dates would grow in the desert...in Tecopa, and the China Ranch Date Farm was created.

They've been growing them ever since, with a date store on site, a bakeshop, a museum, some old boarded up mines and the best part - 

Self maintained hiking trails on the ranch and adjacent property!

Having heard about, but never before having seen a slot canyon, we picked our route...an easy 2 miles along a dry river bed.

Fun hike, no hills to climb, and it held surprising scenery and it was February - part of the cool and rainy season in Tecopa (keep that thought in mind).

The scenery truly was beautiful.  Tecopa, and the China Ranch are very close to Death Valley...think hot and dry.

So little vegetation to cover the hillsides.

It's the rocks and minerals which provide the color...high contrast and stark.

STOP and look closely at the photos. 

They are posted in chronological order.

Go back and study the sky in each...

The goal was to reach the slot canyon seen behind Judy, who is standing in the dry river bed. 

Once inside the canyon, sheer size and immensity become apparent. 

And the worn smooth rock tells of the power of rushing water.

Now, February in Tecopa is rainy season.

As we walked that dry stream bed, getting closer and closer to the destination - thunder started to rumble and echo in the distance...and it was growing closer...

...and then it started to sprinkle as we entered the slot canyon...

It's interesting how the mind works...

All I could imagine while in that canyon was a wall of water rushing our way.

All the spidey senses were focused on that potential event...

          ...to hear the sound of running water...

          ...to feel the ground quiver and shake from the force...

          ...to smell the acrid air when water meets dry desert...

          ...to see some indication before it became a disaster...

We didn't stay long in the canyon...

When we came out, there was a bit more brief rain, but the very real thunder storm had parted around us...and reformed after it traveled past.

And it provided some spectacular photo opportunities...

With enough drama to make that first date very memorable! 

Let the adventure continue...