Sunday
Took Flynn to Carly's 7th birthday party today. Diane stayed home with the baby. Diane's been unpleasant for some time now.
Didn't ask Bob if he'd be seeing Keith. A thousand dollars of ditchweed is far too much. Maybe ask Mike if he knows where to look.
What else? Nothing. No alcohol. No dope. Unpleasant shrew of a wife. Life is great. Just great.
Nice to be away from Diane today. Had fun with Flynn. Had fun seeing Kelly and Bob. Tomorrow I go back to work yet again.
Removed the rear bumper light, that was causing the aux battery to drain. Too bad.
What else? Nothing else. I wish there was something else. Like some dope. Maybe grow some more. Where? In the '65 in the garage? Maybe. That's months away from being available. Long dry spell.
No money for dope, really. Very unhappy with the two last crappy quarter pounds. That's a lot of bad dope. It really is. Severe disappointment.
What else? Nothing else. At all. Nothing else. Go back to sleep. Get up at 4 in the morning. Do it all over again.
Camping next weekend. An adventure. Hope that goes well.
99.03.20
Saturday
The endless nightmare of married life continues. I think I'd rather be dead. Which is why I've become so fucking fat. Might as well end it in a socially acceptable way.
Changed three out of four spark plugs this morning, didn't have a fourth new plug. Hope that helps.
Planning a camping trip next weekend plus Friday to Little Blair Valley, 78 to S-2 with Randy. Hope that works out well.
Have the fuse for the voltmeter that I'd wired the reverse light switch into out. See if that solves the draining battery problem. I imagine that I wired the light wrong and it's been draining the battery.
Eating some taquitos now.
Maybe go remove the wire to the reverse light so that the voltmeter will still work.
Out of dope for a week now. Out of dope worth its name since July. Haven't been high since July. Maybe longer. Was the dope I had before that any good?
Have about a hundred dollars on hand. Owe Toni $39 or so for the Girl Scout Cookies I ordered. Damn. Low on money.
Also ordered things from eBay, kind of a waste of money. Last pay period I bought some new clothes. Before that the trouble with the lights left on/new batteries/tow/repair because I didn't see a cap on the negative battery post. Waste of money.
Having no dope makes living with Diane just about impossible. She's a slug. However, at the moment, she's doing one of her manic cleanings of the kitchen. She's insane. That is the proverbial gospel truth. She is not in her right mind. Why did I marry her? Wanted kids.
I like Flynn and the bug. Diane is no fun to live with, she never has anything to say, is slovenly and lazy and has never been particularly feminine. But here I am. And here I am getting fatter and fatter and being pretty much enthused about a fatal heart attack. And door to get out of here.
Moved to OB several years ago, missed Flynn too much to stay there.
Obviously relying on Diane for birth control was a bad idea. But totally in keeping with the rest of our nightmare marriage. She doesn't get ANYTHING. She is just a clueless person. It's like living with Oscar Klugman from The Odd Couple, it really is.
Sure miss having dope.
Tuesday, March 09, 1999
tuesday.
Lots of work to do. Heard from Randy this morning, he's planning a trip to Baja next spring. Feel excited for him. I'd love to take another Baja trip.
I've actually felt happy and excited all morning just thinking about it. What an adventure that was. Especially considering I spend my life sitting in this half-cubicle or sitting in traffic driving back and forth from home to work and from work to home. Wahoo.
Feel somewhat domesticated, Diane paid some attention to me last night. I was up on time again this morning, got Flynn out of bed, got him ready to go, et cetera, et cetera. Taking care of my little family unit. I actually didn't feel guilty or reserved at all about enjoying the attention. When you've earned the reward, don't be bashful about picking up your chips.
The local service bureau set up an FTP site at long last, that ought to make life easier.
I've actually felt happy and excited all morning just thinking about it. What an adventure that was. Especially considering I spend my life sitting in this half-cubicle or sitting in traffic driving back and forth from home to work and from work to home. Wahoo.
Feel somewhat domesticated, Diane paid some attention to me last night. I was up on time again this morning, got Flynn out of bed, got him ready to go, et cetera, et cetera. Taking care of my little family unit. I actually didn't feel guilty or reserved at all about enjoying the attention. When you've earned the reward, don't be bashful about picking up your chips.
The local service bureau set up an FTP site at long last, that ought to make life easier.
Monday, March 08, 1999
monday.
Busy enough at work. Squabbling with Diane. That would be my spouse. Marriage makes possible a degree of unhappiness only dreamt of while single.
Of course, the possibility of simply having made a terrible choice as far as a partner goes comes to my mind. I wanted a breeding partner. That is all I got.
So I can't say as I'm terribly happy today. I feel like I'm an indentured servant of some kind, I'm there to do chores and be with the kids, while I'm also prohibited from dating or even sportfucking. Not a good arrangement.
Of course, the possibility of simply having made a terrible choice as far as a partner goes comes to my mind. I wanted a breeding partner. That is all I got.
So I can't say as I'm terribly happy today. I feel like I'm an indentured servant of some kind, I'm there to do chores and be with the kids, while I'm also prohibited from dating or even sportfucking. Not a good arrangement.
Saturday, May 02, 1998
barbecue
Sitting by my small barbecue on Saturday evening drinking cold Tecate in red cans, near sunset. Pork chops and chicken breasts on the cast iron griddle which is on top of the folding grill which is above the hibachi which is full of hot coals which is sitting on two bricks.
Looks funky but it works well.
Really enjoyed sitting there. Had enjoyed a nice day, drove to Ocean Beach with Flynn. This seemed like a really long drive and I wondered why I was doing it. Recycled some oil, got breakfast to go from Little Chef and drove to Point Loma, parked the Campmobile and set up the table, served Flynn breakfast.
The idea had occured to me when we got there. It was fun. It was new. It was worth doing.
We sat and ate and enjoyed the view of wildflowers in the foreground and the breaking waves in the background. Really nice. Then we read a Dr. Suess book then drove to the big playground and then headed home.
Did some gardening at home, Flynn took a nap, I started getting ready to cook dinner about four o'clock. Roasted some potatoes in the 10" Dutch oven, made up a batch of biscuit dough.
After a few turns on the grill I brushed the pork chops and chicken breasts with barbecue sauce and watched them cook the last few minutes.
Satisfying. A good day.
Looks funky but it works well.
Really enjoyed sitting there. Had enjoyed a nice day, drove to Ocean Beach with Flynn. This seemed like a really long drive and I wondered why I was doing it. Recycled some oil, got breakfast to go from Little Chef and drove to Point Loma, parked the Campmobile and set up the table, served Flynn breakfast.
The idea had occured to me when we got there. It was fun. It was new. It was worth doing.
We sat and ate and enjoyed the view of wildflowers in the foreground and the breaking waves in the background. Really nice. Then we read a Dr. Suess book then drove to the big playground and then headed home.
Did some gardening at home, Flynn took a nap, I started getting ready to cook dinner about four o'clock. Roasted some potatoes in the 10" Dutch oven, made up a batch of biscuit dough.
After a few turns on the grill I brushed the pork chops and chicken breasts with barbecue sauce and watched them cook the last few minutes.
Satisfying. A good day.
Saturday, April 04, 1998
Santa Cruz Camping Trip
Last Friday I saw Tobin, Christa and Russell off on their initial adventure in the '76 Deluxe Campmobile they'd picked up the night before. I had to report to work, took care of business, got home about eight and was feeling restless, I had wanted to drive part of the way north with TC&R, take Friday off and go as far as the camping trip in Santa Cruz.
Was looking forward to a weekend of moping around feeling sorry for myself, wasn't up to setting off on a Friday night through Orange County and Los Angeles traffic (been there, done that, don't wanna go back), but... hey, I get up @ 4 in the morning... hm, so why not get up an hour early and leave then?!
Checked with my wife to make sure that it was a sufficient insane notion to entertain, tried again to recruit her, she declined but offered up our son (she ended up playing three rounds of golf over the weekend instead) as a passenger. He had his favorite babysitter coming over Saturday morning and I was sure he'd rather play with her. "Would you rather play with Stephanie tomorrow or would you rather go camping with me, Flynn?" I asked. "Camping with Dad! Camping with Dad! Camping with Dad!" he jumped around the room repeating this. I was stoked.
Threw about a fortnight's worth of groceries and clothing in the holds, made sure I had the sleeping bags on board this time, got to bed about midnight.
Slept through the alarm for 45 minutes, got rolling at ten to four. I can't believe I'm doing this, I can't believe that I'm taking Flynn with me!
Rolled on. An RX7 stalled dead in the #3 lane on the freeway was a surprise predawn, two VW bugs had spun out/up the embankment about 100 miles apart, both pale green '63-64s. Odd.
Got past LA (thank God) before anyone was up. Crossed into Orange County, LA County, Ventura County... finally along the coast, right by the water, on the way to Santa Barbara and points north. This is kind of the northern edge of LA in my mind.
Flynn woke up and and we chatted a bit, I decided that we'd made good enough time to afford a brief stop in Solvang, a unique Danish enclave north of Santa Barbara. GREAT bakeries and restaurants (and a lot of knockout beautiful local girls). We went to a bakery that had a bunch of local cars parked in front (it was still quite early in the morning). I love the memory of watching Flynn's eyes widen as he saw what was available. Got a not-too-messy pastry for him and a cup of black coffee and a raisin bun for myself. Back on the road.
The miles rolled past. California has a lot of beautiful scenery, and thank God that a third of the way through November it was cool enough to not be toting a spray bottle to use as a life support system while driving.
Kept the speed to about 60-63mph. Oil temp (finally changed back to 20-50 after 40 weight during the hot summer) was fine, behaved nicely. The timing was off, poor low speed acceleration, but highway performance was good.
I am completely satisfied with the 8 ply tires on the front. When the 5 ply tires on the rear are ready to retire, I'm going to go for 8 ply there also. Really a smooth ride, and you realize the Campmobile has good handling once you're not fighting to compensate for insufficient tire walls. I do not feel tired after a long day of hard driving in the Campmobile, and I believe it's the tires in large part.
Made a quick secondary stop near San Luis Obispo for a comic book or toy, found a little keychain sized Etch A Sketch, PERFECT!!
Flynn took a nap and woke up again a bit cranky, uttering the words I'd most feared hearing: "I want to go home. I don't want to go camping. I want my Mom."
I explained that Mom was hundreds of miles away and that we were going camping that night. I saw golden arches ahead and I made a good parental move: time for a stretch and a Happy Meal(tm).
A McDonald's Happy Meal(tm) is one of the most powerful tools to ensure domestic tranquility on a long car trip available without a prescription.
After that stop, we were within an hour or so of our destination, Big Basin in Santa Cruz. Got off the 101, took the 183 over to the 1, right on the coast.
Tall trees, the ocean right there. What a place. I'd like to find work up in that area, Capitola/ Santa Cruz. Very nice.
Meandered up the 9 to the 236, winding through dense very tall trees. Very narrow road. There was a resurfacing project, we were delayed maybe 40 minutes. I'd driven over freshly laid asphalt in Baja, and I didn't mind spending the time waiting once I saw what was up. It took several hours with a shop rag and a can of WD40 to remove the fine strings of hot asphalt that the tires had thrown up onto the paint.
Became concerned that I'd gone too far and missed the turnoff. Continued along, thinking that it must be clearly signed. Was happy to find the 236 and turn towards the campground. We were almost there.
Threaded our way to the ranger station, found a note from Swiss Al, squeezed the information I needed out of the rangerette, drove maybe 3/4 of a mile to sites #113, 114, 115, something like that. Yep, there's Joe and Patti's '89 Synchro. Found 'em.
I felt like the creature from the black lagoon walking up onto the beach from the sea, such was the degree of jaw dropping. You drove that far?! For one night?
Why not? It was better than staying at home moping around, wishing I had gone! Maybe it's a Jim Ellis road trip virus I contracted via e-mail...
Said hello, introduced Flynn to Mackie, Patti and Joe's son. They played together. I was happy to see Mackie there, I thought that he and Flynn would get along, have another little person to relate to.
Cooked a couple of steaks that I'd thrown into the Campmobile ice box, shared one with Flynn. Martha shared a tasty Thai flavored dish she'd made up. There was more food, but I was full. Flynn enjoyed a couple of cookies that were about as big as his spread hand.
Enjoyed the fire and company for a couple/few hours, Met David Kautz and his wife (name?), who had zoomed up in a sharp little European convertible. Flynn was getting cranky, I didn't realize how tired he was, until David explained it. Sure enough, he went right to sleep, and I was asleep in a few minutes, also. Slept downstairs with the top closed to conserve heat. What's happening with that Carver P4 (Propex) heater order, anyway?! : ' )
Woke up the next morning, started some water for coffee, played with some styrofoam cutout dinosaurs and the toy ambulance from Saturday's Happy Meal(tm), also with the little Etch A Sketch. This was really great fun, that little stretch of time. We were in our clubhouse, out on the loose, on our own, having a good time camping.
Made our way to the fire, I added wood and charcoal and fed twigs and leaves to get a blaze going. Made some toast, as awkwardly as possible. Was not nearly as well prepared for this trip as usual. Made do. Quite nicely!
The sun rose, barely filtering through the truely towering redwoods all around us, lifting the fog. What a place. It was cold enough to make you value the warmth from the fire. Swiss Al and Joe woke up and came out, then Sarah poked her head out of Martha's Passat wagon -- guess it got a bit too cold in her tent! Bradley emerged, dressed in thermal sweatpants, shorts, and a Baja overshirt. Form follows function.
Visited for a bit, it came time to set off again. Said goodbye, started the Campmobile. Whoa. Little cold last night for you, girl? The oil sounded thick, and I'd been parked on a slight forward angle (Joe had directed me to drive up on small stacked 2x4 ramps, which was great, worked well). Got it started, backed up, let it warm up a bit until the oil light went out (was on for too long to leave me comfortable). Headed out.
Wound down the hill, into the sun, through the dense trees. Spectacular sights. I slowed and stopped when a young deer was trotting alongside the road ahead of us. He cut back into the trees. Flynn and I were equally impressed.
We were heading towards the 9 when a Type 34 cruised past and WAVED! I was so surprised that I didn't wave back! How cool! I don't expect folks in Ghias to do that. Saw a fair number of bay windows around the Santa Cruz area. Saw at least a dozen Vanagon Westys on the way home.
On the trip up I had Flynn's baby seat in the back, he slept most of the trip and amused himself otherwise. We shouted back and forth. I didn't make the bed back into the rear seat on the way home, and moved his baby seat to the passenger seat. I don't often do this, but it's a lot of fun to have him right there to chat with as we go.
Headed to Salinas and tanked up, checked the oil. NO oil!?!? Whoa. Added a quart and a half. Expected to blow a seal, couldn't believe I was that low.
Drove south. Shared graham crackers and apple juice with Flynn. Discovered that if he stretched his legs, he could barely touch the opened glove compartment door and slam it shut. This was great fun. I'd say "Left foot only!" and hold his right sweatpant leg down, back and forth. Figured it was good for him to stretch, anyway.
Listened to the Lion King soundtrack a few dozen times more than I'd like to have, but Flynn asked for it and I was only too happy to oblige.
My timing was still off, highway speeds were good and mileage was quite good, I was topping off the tank with 4 or 6 gallons instead of 10 or more (gauges? we don't need no steeeenking fuel gauges).
Drove home at speeds up to 67mph, tried to average about 65. The oil temp stayed below 220, the dipstick wasn't hot when I checked it at fueling stops. This was far faster than I've ever driven the Campmobile before, for a much longer time.
Along the way we'd stopped at a Unocal 76 station (my preferred brand, only gas card I carry) and I was walking, carrying Flynn, who'd just woken up from a nap, across the parking lot and back. A pretty girl rode a horse out of the rural land in back of the station across the parking lot to the road, said hello to us and smiled. Flynn thought this was great. It *was* great!
Only one severe jerk to report, a red Mercedes station wagon (an oxymoron there, no?) with Idaho plates. Driving too fast, zooming up in the rear view, tapped my brakes, he was busy looking where he could jam his 80mph butt into the fast lane and got too close. I could see his trophy bride having a word with him. I'd like to have taken a crowbar to the side of his head.
As we got near and through Santa Barbara, traffic slowed. Oh God. Not a 200 mile traffic jam, please.
LA wasn't as bad as usual, though the 101 through North Hollywood and downtown was jammed, there was some kind of event @ Dodger Stadium (anybody remember the Danny Kaye record "Dodger Stadjum"?).
Navigated through LA and Orange Counties, got close to home, stopped at a McDonald's near our house for a good stretch and another Happy Meal(tm) at a McDonald's with one of those big playgrounds. He was overtired and kind of fussy, but it was good to sit and eat, not quite home and through with our camping trip yet. He finished his last french fry, I loaded him back in the Campmobile again, fired it up, and drove a few more miles home.
Pulled in to the garage, idled for a bit to let the heads cool, shut it off, disembarked, fished Flynn out of his car seat and stood holding him for a moment. The Campmobile had taken us there and back again, a good solid road trip, maybe 10 hours each way including brief stops.
For some reason I thought of the Campmobile as being somewhat frail compared to my old '69 bug, which I'd drive anywhere at any time. After several years with the Campmobile, I'm coming to feel that it's every bit as bulletproof as the bug was, not as fast, but obviously a lot more comfortable and, especially by now, far more well equipped. Who's afraid of the big bad AFC fuel injection system?
Flynn ran inside and woke up Diane, who was napping on the couch (worn out from the three rounds of golf that weekend) and told her all about the trip. He was as good as gold on the long car ride, he did far better than I'd expected he would do. He was alert and cheerful and observant and conversational.
He's only three, I realize he won't remember this trip or the other things we do together, but I feel that it must be providing some kind of foundation for his later years, I'd like to think so, anyway.
Anyway. A spur of the moment trip, a good long run. Hadn't done anything like that in a while. It was good to see everybody, it was good to be out and moving again for a while. An impromptu adventure. Why not?
Was looking forward to a weekend of moping around feeling sorry for myself, wasn't up to setting off on a Friday night through Orange County and Los Angeles traffic (been there, done that, don't wanna go back), but... hey, I get up @ 4 in the morning... hm, so why not get up an hour early and leave then?!
Checked with my wife to make sure that it was a sufficient insane notion to entertain, tried again to recruit her, she declined but offered up our son (she ended up playing three rounds of golf over the weekend instead) as a passenger. He had his favorite babysitter coming over Saturday morning and I was sure he'd rather play with her. "Would you rather play with Stephanie tomorrow or would you rather go camping with me, Flynn?" I asked. "Camping with Dad! Camping with Dad! Camping with Dad!" he jumped around the room repeating this. I was stoked.
Threw about a fortnight's worth of groceries and clothing in the holds, made sure I had the sleeping bags on board this time, got to bed about midnight.
Slept through the alarm for 45 minutes, got rolling at ten to four. I can't believe I'm doing this, I can't believe that I'm taking Flynn with me!
Rolled on. An RX7 stalled dead in the #3 lane on the freeway was a surprise predawn, two VW bugs had spun out/up the embankment about 100 miles apart, both pale green '63-64s. Odd.
Got past LA (thank God) before anyone was up. Crossed into Orange County, LA County, Ventura County... finally along the coast, right by the water, on the way to Santa Barbara and points north. This is kind of the northern edge of LA in my mind.
Flynn woke up and and we chatted a bit, I decided that we'd made good enough time to afford a brief stop in Solvang, a unique Danish enclave north of Santa Barbara. GREAT bakeries and restaurants (and a lot of knockout beautiful local girls). We went to a bakery that had a bunch of local cars parked in front (it was still quite early in the morning). I love the memory of watching Flynn's eyes widen as he saw what was available. Got a not-too-messy pastry for him and a cup of black coffee and a raisin bun for myself. Back on the road.
The miles rolled past. California has a lot of beautiful scenery, and thank God that a third of the way through November it was cool enough to not be toting a spray bottle to use as a life support system while driving.
Kept the speed to about 60-63mph. Oil temp (finally changed back to 20-50 after 40 weight during the hot summer) was fine, behaved nicely. The timing was off, poor low speed acceleration, but highway performance was good.
I am completely satisfied with the 8 ply tires on the front. When the 5 ply tires on the rear are ready to retire, I'm going to go for 8 ply there also. Really a smooth ride, and you realize the Campmobile has good handling once you're not fighting to compensate for insufficient tire walls. I do not feel tired after a long day of hard driving in the Campmobile, and I believe it's the tires in large part.
Made a quick secondary stop near San Luis Obispo for a comic book or toy, found a little keychain sized Etch A Sketch, PERFECT!!
Flynn took a nap and woke up again a bit cranky, uttering the words I'd most feared hearing: "I want to go home. I don't want to go camping. I want my Mom."
I explained that Mom was hundreds of miles away and that we were going camping that night. I saw golden arches ahead and I made a good parental move: time for a stretch and a Happy Meal(tm).
A McDonald's Happy Meal(tm) is one of the most powerful tools to ensure domestic tranquility on a long car trip available without a prescription.
After that stop, we were within an hour or so of our destination, Big Basin in Santa Cruz. Got off the 101, took the 183 over to the 1, right on the coast.
Tall trees, the ocean right there. What a place. I'd like to find work up in that area, Capitola/ Santa Cruz. Very nice.
Meandered up the 9 to the 236, winding through dense very tall trees. Very narrow road. There was a resurfacing project, we were delayed maybe 40 minutes. I'd driven over freshly laid asphalt in Baja, and I didn't mind spending the time waiting once I saw what was up. It took several hours with a shop rag and a can of WD40 to remove the fine strings of hot asphalt that the tires had thrown up onto the paint.
Became concerned that I'd gone too far and missed the turnoff. Continued along, thinking that it must be clearly signed. Was happy to find the 236 and turn towards the campground. We were almost there.
Threaded our way to the ranger station, found a note from Swiss Al, squeezed the information I needed out of the rangerette, drove maybe 3/4 of a mile to sites #113, 114, 115, something like that. Yep, there's Joe and Patti's '89 Synchro. Found 'em.
I felt like the creature from the black lagoon walking up onto the beach from the sea, such was the degree of jaw dropping. You drove that far?! For one night?
Why not? It was better than staying at home moping around, wishing I had gone! Maybe it's a Jim Ellis road trip virus I contracted via e-mail...
Said hello, introduced Flynn to Mackie, Patti and Joe's son. They played together. I was happy to see Mackie there, I thought that he and Flynn would get along, have another little person to relate to.
Cooked a couple of steaks that I'd thrown into the Campmobile ice box, shared one with Flynn. Martha shared a tasty Thai flavored dish she'd made up. There was more food, but I was full. Flynn enjoyed a couple of cookies that were about as big as his spread hand.
Enjoyed the fire and company for a couple/few hours, Met David Kautz and his wife (name?), who had zoomed up in a sharp little European convertible. Flynn was getting cranky, I didn't realize how tired he was, until David explained it. Sure enough, he went right to sleep, and I was asleep in a few minutes, also. Slept downstairs with the top closed to conserve heat. What's happening with that Carver P4 (Propex) heater order, anyway?! : ' )
Woke up the next morning, started some water for coffee, played with some styrofoam cutout dinosaurs and the toy ambulance from Saturday's Happy Meal(tm), also with the little Etch A Sketch. This was really great fun, that little stretch of time. We were in our clubhouse, out on the loose, on our own, having a good time camping.
Made our way to the fire, I added wood and charcoal and fed twigs and leaves to get a blaze going. Made some toast, as awkwardly as possible. Was not nearly as well prepared for this trip as usual. Made do. Quite nicely!
The sun rose, barely filtering through the truely towering redwoods all around us, lifting the fog. What a place. It was cold enough to make you value the warmth from the fire. Swiss Al and Joe woke up and came out, then Sarah poked her head out of Martha's Passat wagon -- guess it got a bit too cold in her tent! Bradley emerged, dressed in thermal sweatpants, shorts, and a Baja overshirt. Form follows function.
Visited for a bit, it came time to set off again. Said goodbye, started the Campmobile. Whoa. Little cold last night for you, girl? The oil sounded thick, and I'd been parked on a slight forward angle (Joe had directed me to drive up on small stacked 2x4 ramps, which was great, worked well). Got it started, backed up, let it warm up a bit until the oil light went out (was on for too long to leave me comfortable). Headed out.
Wound down the hill, into the sun, through the dense trees. Spectacular sights. I slowed and stopped when a young deer was trotting alongside the road ahead of us. He cut back into the trees. Flynn and I were equally impressed.
We were heading towards the 9 when a Type 34 cruised past and WAVED! I was so surprised that I didn't wave back! How cool! I don't expect folks in Ghias to do that. Saw a fair number of bay windows around the Santa Cruz area. Saw at least a dozen Vanagon Westys on the way home.
On the trip up I had Flynn's baby seat in the back, he slept most of the trip and amused himself otherwise. We shouted back and forth. I didn't make the bed back into the rear seat on the way home, and moved his baby seat to the passenger seat. I don't often do this, but it's a lot of fun to have him right there to chat with as we go.
Headed to Salinas and tanked up, checked the oil. NO oil!?!? Whoa. Added a quart and a half. Expected to blow a seal, couldn't believe I was that low.
Drove south. Shared graham crackers and apple juice with Flynn. Discovered that if he stretched his legs, he could barely touch the opened glove compartment door and slam it shut. This was great fun. I'd say "Left foot only!" and hold his right sweatpant leg down, back and forth. Figured it was good for him to stretch, anyway.
Listened to the Lion King soundtrack a few dozen times more than I'd like to have, but Flynn asked for it and I was only too happy to oblige.
My timing was still off, highway speeds were good and mileage was quite good, I was topping off the tank with 4 or 6 gallons instead of 10 or more (gauges? we don't need no steeeenking fuel gauges).
Drove home at speeds up to 67mph, tried to average about 65. The oil temp stayed below 220, the dipstick wasn't hot when I checked it at fueling stops. This was far faster than I've ever driven the Campmobile before, for a much longer time.
Along the way we'd stopped at a Unocal 76 station (my preferred brand, only gas card I carry) and I was walking, carrying Flynn, who'd just woken up from a nap, across the parking lot and back. A pretty girl rode a horse out of the rural land in back of the station across the parking lot to the road, said hello to us and smiled. Flynn thought this was great. It *was* great!
Only one severe jerk to report, a red Mercedes station wagon (an oxymoron there, no?) with Idaho plates. Driving too fast, zooming up in the rear view, tapped my brakes, he was busy looking where he could jam his 80mph butt into the fast lane and got too close. I could see his trophy bride having a word with him. I'd like to have taken a crowbar to the side of his head.
As we got near and through Santa Barbara, traffic slowed. Oh God. Not a 200 mile traffic jam, please.
LA wasn't as bad as usual, though the 101 through North Hollywood and downtown was jammed, there was some kind of event @ Dodger Stadium (anybody remember the Danny Kaye record "Dodger Stadjum"?).
Navigated through LA and Orange Counties, got close to home, stopped at a McDonald's near our house for a good stretch and another Happy Meal(tm) at a McDonald's with one of those big playgrounds. He was overtired and kind of fussy, but it was good to sit and eat, not quite home and through with our camping trip yet. He finished his last french fry, I loaded him back in the Campmobile again, fired it up, and drove a few more miles home.
Pulled in to the garage, idled for a bit to let the heads cool, shut it off, disembarked, fished Flynn out of his car seat and stood holding him for a moment. The Campmobile had taken us there and back again, a good solid road trip, maybe 10 hours each way including brief stops.
For some reason I thought of the Campmobile as being somewhat frail compared to my old '69 bug, which I'd drive anywhere at any time. After several years with the Campmobile, I'm coming to feel that it's every bit as bulletproof as the bug was, not as fast, but obviously a lot more comfortable and, especially by now, far more well equipped. Who's afraid of the big bad AFC fuel injection system?
Flynn ran inside and woke up Diane, who was napping on the couch (worn out from the three rounds of golf that weekend) and told her all about the trip. He was as good as gold on the long car ride, he did far better than I'd expected he would do. He was alert and cheerful and observant and conversational.
He's only three, I realize he won't remember this trip or the other things we do together, but I feel that it must be providing some kind of foundation for his later years, I'd like to think so, anyway.
Anyway. A spur of the moment trip, a good long run. Hadn't done anything like that in a while. It was good to see everybody, it was good to be out and moving again for a while. An impromptu adventure. Why not?
Sunday, February 22, 1998
stuck in the mud
I got stuck in the mud. I didn't know what to do. Never been stuck in the mud before.
Required a lot of help, in the rain, in the mud, to get out. Required a lot of patience.
Eventually got out.
What an awful feeling when the tires gave up any hold on the mud. I feel like I did it to myself. Made a mistake. That involved significant and concerted assistance to get out of. Shame. Shame. It feels like being under one of those orange keep-food-warm lights at the cafeteria long ago. Searing, broiling orange heat.
Required a lot of help, in the rain, in the mud, to get out. Required a lot of patience.
Eventually got out.
What an awful feeling when the tires gave up any hold on the mud. I feel like I did it to myself. Made a mistake. That involved significant and concerted assistance to get out of. Shame. Shame. It feels like being under one of those orange keep-food-warm lights at the cafeteria long ago. Searing, broiling orange heat.
Saturday, November 01, 1997
1 November 97
Visiting Mom in the desert.
Drank six beers, smoked almost all of a Paul Garmirian corona. Bought some clothes that will fit, Dockers and shirts. Saw a *gorgeous* Chicana at the mall, incredible breasts and slim hips, really, really ultrafuckable.
Cooking ribs. Try and connect Zip drive to PowerBook later on, brought it with me.
Low on battery power. This is the new battery I bought and conditioned, took about half a charge.
I am really incredibly fat, way, way overweight. This could end my life, I have to stop drinking so much/intaking so many calories. How to get more exercise painlessly? Riding to and from Rockwell worked along with the Soloflex AND NOT DRINKING back in '93. When I weighed 160!!
Now I weigh 240 or so. Great.
I drink too much. A night without enough beer or wine to dissolve the obvious issues is a night not well spent. Drink until it doesn't matter.
Went to the mall with Diane, very frustrating. Diane can't carry on a conversation, can't do the most basic, simple thing as far as social interaction goes. She has parts missing. When I slam up against it and there is not conceivable (ha) reason to stay with her the fact that I am staying with her, not with her but with Flynn, is painful, I feel stupid for wasting my life this way. I like spending time with Flynn, he is the center of my life, but life with Diane is an exquisitely frustrating and meaningless waste of time, she doesn't pick up on the simplest concept, no matter how finely it's chopped up for her. Why am I wasting my time???
...
Visiting Mom in the desert.
Drank six beers, smoked almost all of a Paul Garmirian corona. Bought some clothes that will fit, Dockers and shirts. Saw a *gorgeous* Chicana at the mall, incredible breasts and slim hips, really, really ultrafuckable.
Cooking ribs. Try and connect Zip drive to PowerBook later on, brought it with me.
Low on battery power. This is the new battery I bought and conditioned, took about half a charge.
I am really incredibly fat, way, way overweight. This could end my life, I have to stop drinking so much/intaking so many calories. How to get more exercise painlessly? Riding to and from Rockwell worked along with the Soloflex AND NOT DRINKING back in '93. When I weighed 160!!
Now I weigh 240 or so. Great.
I drink too much. A night without enough beer or wine to dissolve the obvious issues is a night not well spent. Drink until it doesn't matter.
Went to the mall with Diane, very frustrating. Diane can't carry on a conversation, can't do the most basic, simple thing as far as social interaction goes. She has parts missing. When I slam up against it and there is not conceivable (ha) reason to stay with her the fact that I am staying with her, not with her but with Flynn, is painful, I feel stupid for wasting my life this way. I like spending time with Flynn, he is the center of my life, but life with Diane is an exquisitely frustrating and meaningless waste of time, she doesn't pick up on the simplest concept, no matter how finely it's chopped up for her. Why am I wasting my time???
...
Sunday, September 14, 1997
sunday
Visiting Mom in the desert with my delightful little son and my unfortunate choice of a second wife. I really know how to pick 'em, don't I?
Took Flynn to one of little friend's birthday party yesterday from noon to three, hot day out, he skipped his nap, fairly exhausting. Then we drove out here. The best way to deal with living with Diane is to just ignore her. She says stupid things and drives like shit, just close my eyes except when we're actually about to have an accident. "Whoa Pook. Whoa Pook. Whoa Pook. Please do not kill us."
I mean, can't you SEE that car merging into this lane, getting on the freeway? Maybe driving 75 in the slow lane is not a good idea? What do *you* think, Honey? I think you're not all there, there is something missing from your makeup, there is a chunk missing and you don't even know it.
Flynn is now three. I was planning on staying for 18 months. Three years is 36 months. I'm good and sick of Diane in every way by this time. Smoking, the dog, stupidity, lack of some elemental block of character...
Unhappy with Diane. As evidenced by my IMMENSE size, I've never been fatter than this. I eat and drink to block out Diane. I just want to blot it all out. Go ahead, say the stupidest things you can, I'm going to drink four beers and retire to my little room and ignore you, dream of other days and basically NOT BE HERE WITH YOU.
I'd really like to establish and maintain at least a diary of who does what with Flynn and account for hours and activities, I think that would be a real eye-opener in six months.
My family seems to like Diane just fine. THEY CAN HAVE HER. I'll take Flynn.
Flynn has been really uppity since my return from Baja and his Hawaii trip.
Would also like to get a small video camera to record just how things Diane says lead to conflict. I don't see or expect how demonstrating or even charting out how the things she says and does lead to conflict, by this time I do not believe that Diane is all there.
What else? Not much. Work continues. Yawn. The house is ok, I guess. Moved the bricks I'd bought back to where I'm going to position them, bought two more 50 lb. bags of sand on Friday after going to the market after picking up the VW parts after picking up the new clothes.
Wore the new clothes yesterday, looked nice, it was hot out, though. I may be nicely dressed, but I'm still really fat.
Wearing contact lenses, finally ran across those yesterday. Kind of a change.
What else? Have to replace the points and condensor on the Campmobile, try and set the timing and all that. Running very poorly. Also some white smoke from the port scoop. Oil on the engine? Valve is shot? I do not own a compression tester, I'm unsure what the condition of the engine is.
Was thinking of a BMW 2002, that would be fun. No money, of course.
What else? Not much else.
---
2010: Messages from the past like this remind me of what my married life was like, and it was not pleasant. Diane ended up having some kind of mental breakdown or whatever you'd call it. Which has been going on and on and on for five years, now. At least she never participated in our family life, which was good as far as carrying on without was concerned for the kids, who have never once said "I miss mom" or anything of the sort. Go figure. But, God, I remember those horrible days of being with her and being so unhappy and so dissatisfied -- it was really miserable. I mean, it was really bad. I wish that I could say that I missed her even a little bit, but that simply is not the case at all. As far from that as you can get.
Took Flynn to one of little friend's birthday party yesterday from noon to three, hot day out, he skipped his nap, fairly exhausting. Then we drove out here. The best way to deal with living with Diane is to just ignore her. She says stupid things and drives like shit, just close my eyes except when we're actually about to have an accident. "Whoa Pook. Whoa Pook. Whoa Pook. Please do not kill us."
I mean, can't you SEE that car merging into this lane, getting on the freeway? Maybe driving 75 in the slow lane is not a good idea? What do *you* think, Honey? I think you're not all there, there is something missing from your makeup, there is a chunk missing and you don't even know it.
Flynn is now three. I was planning on staying for 18 months. Three years is 36 months. I'm good and sick of Diane in every way by this time. Smoking, the dog, stupidity, lack of some elemental block of character...
Unhappy with Diane. As evidenced by my IMMENSE size, I've never been fatter than this. I eat and drink to block out Diane. I just want to blot it all out. Go ahead, say the stupidest things you can, I'm going to drink four beers and retire to my little room and ignore you, dream of other days and basically NOT BE HERE WITH YOU.
I'd really like to establish and maintain at least a diary of who does what with Flynn and account for hours and activities, I think that would be a real eye-opener in six months.
My family seems to like Diane just fine. THEY CAN HAVE HER. I'll take Flynn.
Flynn has been really uppity since my return from Baja and his Hawaii trip.
Would also like to get a small video camera to record just how things Diane says lead to conflict. I don't see or expect how demonstrating or even charting out how the things she says and does lead to conflict, by this time I do not believe that Diane is all there.
What else? Not much. Work continues. Yawn. The house is ok, I guess. Moved the bricks I'd bought back to where I'm going to position them, bought two more 50 lb. bags of sand on Friday after going to the market after picking up the VW parts after picking up the new clothes.
Wore the new clothes yesterday, looked nice, it was hot out, though. I may be nicely dressed, but I'm still really fat.
Wearing contact lenses, finally ran across those yesterday. Kind of a change.
What else? Have to replace the points and condensor on the Campmobile, try and set the timing and all that. Running very poorly. Also some white smoke from the port scoop. Oil on the engine? Valve is shot? I do not own a compression tester, I'm unsure what the condition of the engine is.
Was thinking of a BMW 2002, that would be fun. No money, of course.
What else? Not much else.
---
2010: Messages from the past like this remind me of what my married life was like, and it was not pleasant. Diane ended up having some kind of mental breakdown or whatever you'd call it. Which has been going on and on and on for five years, now. At least she never participated in our family life, which was good as far as carrying on without was concerned for the kids, who have never once said "I miss mom" or anything of the sort. Go figure. But, God, I remember those horrible days of being with her and being so unhappy and so dissatisfied -- it was really miserable. I mean, it was really bad. I wish that I could say that I missed her even a little bit, but that simply is not the case at all. As far from that as you can get.
Saturday, July 05, 1997
King's River rafting trip
Loaded up the Campmobile with everything that we could fit inside it Thursday night, got a good early start 4th of July morning, headed up to Orange County to deposit our offspring with my wife's parents.
Kept the speed at or under 57 as I would all weekend since the oil temperature gauge had croaked a few days before the trip. Was anxious about it but figured that maintaining a reduced speed was the best way to go, since trying to swap the gauges (had a spare) was suffering from a lack of steam on my part at 11:30 the night before...
Incredibly, there was NO traffic all the way through Orange County and Los Angeles (thank you God!). Made our way north on the 5 and slowly climbed the Grapevine. Had a big plant sprayer and made liberal use of it to keep cool, it was good and hot out 4th of July moving through the baked hills. Per Jack Stafford's Baja advice I had set the timing at 4 or 5 degrees BTDC versus 7.5, seemed to give me a lot more pedal... not any extra power, but the engine wasn't straining. Nice sedate acceleration.
Got to the top of Tejon Pass (4100 ft.), patted the dashboard, good girl...
Basically drove all day, eventually got to Fresno and headed towards the mountains through endless fields and farmland (nice country!). Stopped at a store and bought a flat of eggs since we'd managed to forget to pack the eggs we had at home, got lost, found the right road, continued along. Was using 92 octane Unocal 76 gas, noticed a surprising rise in gas mileage.
We got to the hills and then to the mountains, going by the odometer to follow the directions to the rafting camp. The roads got twisty and turny, my least favorite kind of driving, the worst part being the folks in Ford Explorers and sports cars zipping around blind corners on a VERY narrow mountain road barely etched into the mountainside far above the beautiful lake. Yipes! Don't they see that this is a spot where it would pay significant dividends to SLOW THE HELL DOWN A LITTLE?!
Was glad as we got farther into the mountains and passed the last of the marinas and boat ramps, the traffic diminished to zero. Saw another bay window coming the other way!! Big smiles and I waved, he flashed me the peace sign. That was nice, liked that.
Crossed another bridge, found the rafting camp, everyone else (trip was planned through a club at my wife's employer) was sleeping in tents and we set up the Campmobile across the road from the river in the parking lot, popped the top and started dinner in the Dutch ovens, baked some chicken, baked some potatoes, roasted some corn on the cob. Wrapped the chicken before baking it, my wife seemed to enjoy it more that way, I like the chicken better when it's baked without being wrapped. Anyway. It was a good hot meal that beat the hell out of P&B sandwiches or trail mix!!!
Turned out that the raft trip package did not include dinner Friday or breakfast Saturday. We had brought extra food and shared that with some of my wife's co-workers who had made the trip (with no food or water! amazing!). Turned out that we put the entire flat of eggs to good use Saturday morning cooking up a big batch of scrambled eggs for everyone, great visual breaking the eggs into a big plastic bowl with the rising sun shining behind me, had the bowl on top of the Coleman cooler inside the Campmobile, was standing outside working fast to thwart the flies... the sunlight illuminated the bowl and the brilliant yellow yolks of the fresh farm eggs, it was truly a fine sight!
Big batch of biscuits were a little brown but not doughy, cooked up the leftover baked potatoes from Friday night's dinner into German fried potatoes, fed everybody who wasn't too hung over to eat. Explained what a Dutch oven was and how it worked. If I'd had a pile of spare ones I could have sold them. I felt the same way when I saw Jeff (?) at the CCC June campout last year with a Dutch oven! "What is that thing?"
Received many compliments on the Campmobile, as this was another non-VW trip. Enjoyed showing off the bits and pieces we've installed. Especially enjoyed the 12V fans and lights, now running off the auxiliary battery. Was trying a small 110V lamp with a 300V inverter and a fluorescent bulb from Home Depot, it burned out pretty quickly. No loss, the 12V lights were ample to read by and tinker by. And to power the radio. Not sure if the fluorescent bulbs just don't abide well with the inverter or what, not in a hurry to spend another $7 on a fluorescent bulb to experiment again, though! Slept downstairs as that's where the fans and lights are (not the mention the icebox!).
The rafting itself was a BLAST and I highly recommend it, we went with Spirit Whitewater, check out their web pages. The guides were friendly, the equipment was clean and functional, the river was SENSATIONALLY BEAUTIFUL! The King's River is one of the last undammed rivers in California, and though my wife seemed to want even larger rapids, I was perfectly happy with the water here towards the end of the rafting season. Went back to the Campmobile and my wife napped while I picked things up and got them semi-organized (organization is a state not unlike a state of grace, something to aim towards but seldom achieved...)
Down about half a quart of oil, and the Kendall 20/50 didn't look spent or burnt at all, which I was happy to see. Worried me making this trip without a functioning oil temp gauge.
Packed everything up pretty early Sunday, raked the ashes into the dirt where the Dutch ovens had been used, lent out one of the coolers and some leftover ice, prayed and the Campmobile started up first time (hooray!), threaded our way back down the twisting road with the early light dramatically shining on the scenery. Kept it down to about 25 mph and didn't have any hot dogs on our tail. Guess they were all hung over.
Good and hot again on Sunday, kept the speed at about 57. Stopped for half an hour before climbing the Grapevine, stretched our legs and popped the engine hatch to let the engine and oil cool down. Didn't want to push my luck. Followed a big tanker truck up the hill, only too happy to be driving 35 or so. Amazing to see people in big pickups racing up the hill hauling boats! Can they afford to replace their cars every couple of years!?? That's gotta take a real toll on an engine. Hit the summit listening to Cassidy from a Grateful Dead bootleg tape, the conflict in that song resolving itself just about the moment we crested the mountain -- flight of the seabird, scattered like lost words, wheel to the storm and fly
The drive home was uneventful aside from the usual handful of morons driving way too fast and leaving way too little room while passing (or tailgating!). Read traffic and avoided what I thought was about to be a sensational five car pile up in Los Angeles, I can't stand driving through LA any more, it's too big and there are too many cars, the air is opaque, everybody drives like they're a movie star or a big executive on their way to some big deal... nightmares!
Was happy to pull into my wife's parents' house and get the little guy back from Grandma and Grandpa, was even happier to round the bend at Capo Beach and feel the gloriously cool ocean air. The mist from the sprayer wasn't as much of a life support system as it had been previously!
Pulled up in front of our house, laid a hand on the engine compartment... didn't burn my hand, the bumper was hot from the exhaust but the Campmobile passed its final pre-Baja shakedown without any trouble. I guess I'm as ready as I'm going to get.
Wednesday, July 02, 1997
wednesday
Worked, went from work to the auto parts store, bought two cases
of Kendall 40 weight oil and some bits and pieces, went to the
art store, bought some magnetic strips and a glue gun to make
bug screens with, went to KMart, ran into Diane and Flynn, bought
four black tshirts (unfortunately with pockets), a paper towel rack
for the Campmobile, metallic screens to help keep heat out of the
Campmobile, batteries, et cetera... bought some new underwhere and
went home. No, went to Home Depot, bought some screen material,
et cetera... bought a little lamp at KMart, bought a fluorescent bulb
at Home Depot, plugged it in to the converter... a nice little lamp
in the Campmobile!!!
Still have a lot of stuff to do, no idea when I can possibly get to it...
of Kendall 40 weight oil and some bits and pieces, went to the
art store, bought some magnetic strips and a glue gun to make
bug screens with, went to KMart, ran into Diane and Flynn, bought
four black tshirts (unfortunately with pockets), a paper towel rack
for the Campmobile, metallic screens to help keep heat out of the
Campmobile, batteries, et cetera... bought some new underwhere and
went home. No, went to Home Depot, bought some screen material,
et cetera... bought a little lamp at KMart, bought a fluorescent bulb
at Home Depot, plugged it in to the converter... a nice little lamp
in the Campmobile!!!
Still have a lot of stuff to do, no idea when I can possibly get to it...
Sunday, May 25, 1997
Pistachio Adventure
Got an e-mail from a friend on Friday (didn't play hooky on Friday, meaning that actually making it to Fremont Peak wasn't likely) asking for help pruning their pistachio trees out in the high desert of southern California. She'd lost her mother to a sudden and brutal bout with cancer the previous week, so I figured they could use the support and I could use a slightly less distant shakedown for the Baja trip.
Managed to not prepare a thing before Saturday morning, stumbled to the market, bought some ice, beer, chicken, corn, added those items to the pile of camping stuff already in the Campmobile. Sure like having the extra space in the Westy now that the spare is on the snout rack. Filled it up with 89 octane and headed north from San Diego on the 15.
Overcast day, kept it about 60, oil temp behaved. Made the Cajon Pass in 3rd, 4000 feet give or take. Followed the sketchy directions out into an area I'd never been in. Dramatic rock outcroppings and scrub brush unlike the lower desert I'm more familiar with. Stopped once I got to the last town on the map and tanked up again, headed out past the last fast food franchise, looking for "where the power lines begin again" and "a blue water pole surrounded by four yellow water poles".
Found the unpaved road mentioned in the directions. Now I know what a washboard road is. Took it at 1 mph and my fillings still rattled loose. My friend hadn't mentioned the name of their place, so I drove about a mile up the washboard road, figured the first place I passed looked like it had pistachio trees (hey, it had trees, and I was sick of driving/vibrating). Made a sloppy three point turn (did I mention the washboard had soft sand on its edges?), fortunately the sinking feeling I got when the wheels hit the sand wasn't permanent. Rattled back to the first place, vaguely remembered the acronym from a photo my friend had shown me once.
Pulled in, more soft sand, got out, no one shot at me, figured this was a plus. Introduced myself, yup, right place, got to work. Met my friend's two sisters and her father and his partners in the ranch.
Simple, repetitive work slitting two inches ("And not two man-inches" explained one of her sisters) above the T-bud on the trees. Real quiet out there. Worked hard all day. Knocked off about 5:30, got myself some water and used a clean wet shop rag to clean myself off, changed T shirts, rinsed out the shirt I'd been wearing in my 10" dutch oven, wrung it out, rolled the collar up in the passenger side window to dry (worked pretty well!). Opened up a beer, pulled out my portable radio, commenced to cook some chicken in the 12" dutch oven, made small talk, showed off the Campmobile.
One of the guys that had shown up with his Navy buddy in the afternoon to work had a 4.0 liter Jeep which he managed to get stuck on a berm just off the washboard road, helped free that, got a couple of lungfulls of dust and popped my shoulder a couple of times freeing it.
People were amazed with the Campmobile. I wasn't expecting that, they continually remarked about how self-contained it was. This was the first time my friend's father had been to the ranch since his wife's death the week before, the work had slid due to her terminal illness. When we wrapped up for the day, her father (intelligent and articulate) expressed a casual interest in sleeping in the Campmobile, after four "stingers" (hard liquor drink) he said he was ready to turn in.
I motivated over to the Campmobile and made the downstairs berth ready. I was bemused, hadn't expected to be displaced from my little space ship, though I understood that spending a night alone in the trailer where he'd spent time working on the ranch with his wife wasn't attractive. I was happy to share the space.
Took a walk right after that to the end of their 30 acres thinking about why life has so many hard edges, what it all means, et cetera. Real nice sunset, very dramatic mountains in the last rays of light. Walked back, got the chicken and delicious corn, had dinner with everybody who hadn't eaten yet, volunteered to do the dishes, helped my friend's father's partners (very nice older couple) around the trailer. Made conversation and was a pleasant guest.
I elected not to go to the nearest wide spot in the road with a liquor license with my friend, her sisters, and three guys who were working there this weekend. Hung out with one of the partners and one of the worker's drop-dead-gorgeous 17 year old daughter, talked about the illness and death of my friend's mother, talked about how her father was doing. Got to be around 10:30, they were ready to turn in. I had thought I might sleep inside, but felt uncomfortable sleeping in the same room with this gorgeous 17 year old, so excused myself, went outside, hoisted myself up to the upstairs berth in the Campmobile with a borrowed blanket (my friend's father had my sleeping bag and my Indian blanket). Got settled in the pitch black, listened to the very pleasant rain like sound of the silver dollar leaves of the trees near the trailer.
What seemed like about three minutes after I'd actually fallen asleep, I heard a drunken argument between a friend of my friend's father's and her active duty Navy boyfriend. Ignored it until I heard her say "don't you f***** hit me!" God, do I have to get out of bed and do battle with a drunken sailor at three o'clock in the morning? They were right outside of the Campmobile, it was impossible to miss. They continued exchanging obscenities without violence (Thank You God) for another forty minutes or so. Really unpleasant. I do not understand ugliness like that.
If my friend's father hadn't have been crashed downstairs, I'd have split at the time. The things the guy was saying to her were inexcusable. My friend's father woke up and exited via the driver's door prior to sunup (couldn't figure out the side door amidst the clutter and darkness). I snoozed until the sun came up, climbed downstairs, took a leak in the porta potty, dug out the coffee maker and coffee and denatured alcohol one burner stove. Took another fast swipe at myself with a wet shop rag, changed t shirts again, got dressed to work (long sleeve shirt, Levis, big funky lifeguard hat). The girls were still snoozing. Packed my stuff back up in the Campmobile, folded its top back down. My friend's father came out, handed him a cup of coffee since it was just then ready, chatted about a '63 bug he once owned, the Campmobile, the fate of the post-79 Type 2s and the flawed Vanagon engine design. My friend came out and gave her dad a hug, we chatted for a while while I tried to comb the tangles out of my hair (and about a pound of sand from the sand geysers that guy's stuck jeep wheels shot up on our heads).
Went out on my own with the hacksaw and trimmers, did a few rows of trees, noticed my co-workers had headed back for breakfast early after their late start. Did a couple more rows of trees, my friend found me, headed back to the Campmobile, drank four cups of water, had a couple pieces of bacon and some pancakes, made conversation, said goodbye to my friend and headed home, didn't want to stick around after overhearing the ugly argument, sure didn't want to say squat to the guy. Figured this was the most graceful way to get out of there ASAP.
Tooled back towards civilization, had a harbinger of what was to come: woman in a minivan PLASTERED to my rear bumper, didn't take a tap on the brakes to heart. She could see that she couldn't pass due to oncoming traffic, but didn't back off. Irritating. Happily pulled over a bit as soon as the coast was clear and she hauled ass around me -- nice Christian sticker on the back of her mini van. Go figure.
Except for a period of time following an RV at 50 mph, the drive home was hellish, driver after driver tailgating me and making extremely unsafe lane changes to get around me, and I'm in the slow lane! Makes no sense to me. As always, no Highway Patrol to be seen at all, anywhere, ever. Since when is the speed limit 90? C'est incredible! Truly wouldn't mind a .22 revolver to shoot out the occasional window of a tailgating car -- I think that would really get some a*hole's attention.
Sun was out, oil temp was up around 240 by the time I made the top of Cajon Pass, was real happy to follow a semi slowly down the grade and watch the oil temp drop down to 190 by the time we hit the 3000 ft. mark. Campmobile ran great all the way home, I just can't figure the brutal and unnecessary driving habits of all them geeks in Ford Explorers and the like. I just do not get it. Kept to myself in the slow lane driving 50-60 depending on the grades and the oil temp. Should have put in 40 wt but the FLAPS was out and I had some 20-50 to use (this is the previous week).
Got home, took a shower, untangled my hair. Was very happy to see my wife and son and my mother, still recuperating from her own cancer surgery, resting on our living room couch. Felt very grateful that we were together after seeing how ripped up my friend's family was. Counted my blessings.
Managed to not prepare a thing before Saturday morning, stumbled to the market, bought some ice, beer, chicken, corn, added those items to the pile of camping stuff already in the Campmobile. Sure like having the extra space in the Westy now that the spare is on the snout rack. Filled it up with 89 octane and headed north from San Diego on the 15.
Overcast day, kept it about 60, oil temp behaved. Made the Cajon Pass in 3rd, 4000 feet give or take. Followed the sketchy directions out into an area I'd never been in. Dramatic rock outcroppings and scrub brush unlike the lower desert I'm more familiar with. Stopped once I got to the last town on the map and tanked up again, headed out past the last fast food franchise, looking for "where the power lines begin again" and "a blue water pole surrounded by four yellow water poles".
Found the unpaved road mentioned in the directions. Now I know what a washboard road is. Took it at 1 mph and my fillings still rattled loose. My friend hadn't mentioned the name of their place, so I drove about a mile up the washboard road, figured the first place I passed looked like it had pistachio trees (hey, it had trees, and I was sick of driving/vibrating). Made a sloppy three point turn (did I mention the washboard had soft sand on its edges?), fortunately the sinking feeling I got when the wheels hit the sand wasn't permanent. Rattled back to the first place, vaguely remembered the acronym from a photo my friend had shown me once.
Pulled in, more soft sand, got out, no one shot at me, figured this was a plus. Introduced myself, yup, right place, got to work. Met my friend's two sisters and her father and his partners in the ranch.
Simple, repetitive work slitting two inches ("And not two man-inches" explained one of her sisters) above the T-bud on the trees. Real quiet out there. Worked hard all day. Knocked off about 5:30, got myself some water and used a clean wet shop rag to clean myself off, changed T shirts, rinsed out the shirt I'd been wearing in my 10" dutch oven, wrung it out, rolled the collar up in the passenger side window to dry (worked pretty well!). Opened up a beer, pulled out my portable radio, commenced to cook some chicken in the 12" dutch oven, made small talk, showed off the Campmobile.
One of the guys that had shown up with his Navy buddy in the afternoon to work had a 4.0 liter Jeep which he managed to get stuck on a berm just off the washboard road, helped free that, got a couple of lungfulls of dust and popped my shoulder a couple of times freeing it.
People were amazed with the Campmobile. I wasn't expecting that, they continually remarked about how self-contained it was. This was the first time my friend's father had been to the ranch since his wife's death the week before, the work had slid due to her terminal illness. When we wrapped up for the day, her father (intelligent and articulate) expressed a casual interest in sleeping in the Campmobile, after four "stingers" (hard liquor drink) he said he was ready to turn in.
I motivated over to the Campmobile and made the downstairs berth ready. I was bemused, hadn't expected to be displaced from my little space ship, though I understood that spending a night alone in the trailer where he'd spent time working on the ranch with his wife wasn't attractive. I was happy to share the space.
Took a walk right after that to the end of their 30 acres thinking about why life has so many hard edges, what it all means, et cetera. Real nice sunset, very dramatic mountains in the last rays of light. Walked back, got the chicken and delicious corn, had dinner with everybody who hadn't eaten yet, volunteered to do the dishes, helped my friend's father's partners (very nice older couple) around the trailer. Made conversation and was a pleasant guest.
I elected not to go to the nearest wide spot in the road with a liquor license with my friend, her sisters, and three guys who were working there this weekend. Hung out with one of the partners and one of the worker's drop-dead-gorgeous 17 year old daughter, talked about the illness and death of my friend's mother, talked about how her father was doing. Got to be around 10:30, they were ready to turn in. I had thought I might sleep inside, but felt uncomfortable sleeping in the same room with this gorgeous 17 year old, so excused myself, went outside, hoisted myself up to the upstairs berth in the Campmobile with a borrowed blanket (my friend's father had my sleeping bag and my Indian blanket). Got settled in the pitch black, listened to the very pleasant rain like sound of the silver dollar leaves of the trees near the trailer.
What seemed like about three minutes after I'd actually fallen asleep, I heard a drunken argument between a friend of my friend's father's and her active duty Navy boyfriend. Ignored it until I heard her say "don't you f***** hit me!" God, do I have to get out of bed and do battle with a drunken sailor at three o'clock in the morning? They were right outside of the Campmobile, it was impossible to miss. They continued exchanging obscenities without violence (Thank You God) for another forty minutes or so. Really unpleasant. I do not understand ugliness like that.
If my friend's father hadn't have been crashed downstairs, I'd have split at the time. The things the guy was saying to her were inexcusable. My friend's father woke up and exited via the driver's door prior to sunup (couldn't figure out the side door amidst the clutter and darkness). I snoozed until the sun came up, climbed downstairs, took a leak in the porta potty, dug out the coffee maker and coffee and denatured alcohol one burner stove. Took another fast swipe at myself with a wet shop rag, changed t shirts again, got dressed to work (long sleeve shirt, Levis, big funky lifeguard hat). The girls were still snoozing. Packed my stuff back up in the Campmobile, folded its top back down. My friend's father came out, handed him a cup of coffee since it was just then ready, chatted about a '63 bug he once owned, the Campmobile, the fate of the post-79 Type 2s and the flawed Vanagon engine design. My friend came out and gave her dad a hug, we chatted for a while while I tried to comb the tangles out of my hair (and about a pound of sand from the sand geysers that guy's stuck jeep wheels shot up on our heads).
Went out on my own with the hacksaw and trimmers, did a few rows of trees, noticed my co-workers had headed back for breakfast early after their late start. Did a couple more rows of trees, my friend found me, headed back to the Campmobile, drank four cups of water, had a couple pieces of bacon and some pancakes, made conversation, said goodbye to my friend and headed home, didn't want to stick around after overhearing the ugly argument, sure didn't want to say squat to the guy. Figured this was the most graceful way to get out of there ASAP.
Tooled back towards civilization, had a harbinger of what was to come: woman in a minivan PLASTERED to my rear bumper, didn't take a tap on the brakes to heart. She could see that she couldn't pass due to oncoming traffic, but didn't back off. Irritating. Happily pulled over a bit as soon as the coast was clear and she hauled ass around me -- nice Christian sticker on the back of her mini van. Go figure.
Except for a period of time following an RV at 50 mph, the drive home was hellish, driver after driver tailgating me and making extremely unsafe lane changes to get around me, and I'm in the slow lane! Makes no sense to me. As always, no Highway Patrol to be seen at all, anywhere, ever. Since when is the speed limit 90? C'est incredible! Truly wouldn't mind a .22 revolver to shoot out the occasional window of a tailgating car -- I think that would really get some a*hole's attention.
Sun was out, oil temp was up around 240 by the time I made the top of Cajon Pass, was real happy to follow a semi slowly down the grade and watch the oil temp drop down to 190 by the time we hit the 3000 ft. mark. Campmobile ran great all the way home, I just can't figure the brutal and unnecessary driving habits of all them geeks in Ford Explorers and the like. I just do not get it. Kept to myself in the slow lane driving 50-60 depending on the grades and the oil temp. Should have put in 40 wt but the FLAPS was out and I had some 20-50 to use (this is the previous week).
Got home, took a shower, untangled my hair. Was very happy to see my wife and son and my mother, still recuperating from her own cancer surgery, resting on our living room couch. Felt very grateful that we were together after seeing how ripped up my friend's family was. Counted my blessings.
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