One degree short...

Rolling.  I didn't want to say anything, but... we had a tailwind for just over half our driving today.  Double digit miles per gallon: 10.8.  Yeah, according to the trip computer, it won't be that good on the next fill-up - we were seeing 8.5 mpg for the last half.

Our timing was good - we rolled right through the middle of San Antonio around 3:00, before rush hour.  I don't know why they call it that... nobody can rush when it's bumper-to-bumper.  Traffic was heavy enough, but no slow downs.

It was foggy when we left this morning...

Off to the storage unit, where we loaded the last of our stuff.  We figured we saved about 80 miles and a couple nights rental by loading here, instead of at our island.  By the time we were loaded, hooked up, and ready to roll, the fog had lifted...

It was a pleasant, uneventful drive... just the way I like it.  Running through San Antonio was relatively easy, and the temperature was 82º... just one degree short of the record high for this date.  We called for reservations at an RV park west of San Antonio.  I let them know we are 65' long and requested a pull through site... "No problem."

Apparently, they think we are kidding about our length, because when we pulled in, they had us in a 40' site... "Umm, we are going to hang out about 15 feet in front and 10 feet behind in that site - anyone else going to come or go on those roads?"  They scrambled to find us another site.  We are in an "80 foot site."  That's what they call it - there is about 5 or 6 feet behind us.  I don't know who does the measuring for RV parks, but our length is what it is.  No matter, we are down for the night, sanitizing the water lines and tanks, and we'll get an early start in the morning.

It's a LONG WAYS across west Texas.

Butt puckering...

No last minute rushing around.  The 5th wheel is loaded, waiting for us in the storage unit.  The cargo trailer is loaded, the bikes are strapped down.  A few personal things to put in the truck in the morning, put down the last hurricane shutter, and we are off.

I had just finished strapping down the second bike this afternoon when I got an e-mail that made my butt pucker.  My buddy, Herb, and his walking companion Dr. Jake the wonderdog, mixed it up with a pickup truck.  While they were walking, crossing with the light, in a marked crosswalk.  It is fortunate that Herb saw the truck at the last moment and was able to move fast enough to not get run over.  They are banged up.  My heart hurts for our friends and we send out our best wishes for nothing turning up tomorrow.

I have frequently written about the terrible drivers here.  Aggressive.  Inconsiderate.  And, many uninsured.  There ought to be a law... oh, yeah, there is: pretty sure it is illegal to rundown pedestrians in a crosswalk, especially when they have the "walk" light.

We all know life can change in a heartbeat.

Rest and heal, my friend.

That didn't last long...

A wispy bit of fog this morning.  It rolled in fast, then disappeared just as fast.  Maybe 5 or 6 minutes.

Pretty while it lasted.  Glad to not have to drive in the fog... I had enough of that on the stretch between Oklahoma and Texas on our way back south last week.

Hoping for some decent driving weather on this next trek.  The forecast looks good.  Yeah, I don't trust 'em.  ;-)

How do they decide??

Another schlep to the storage unit, and the Love Shack is mostly loaded.  One of the most strenuous parts of switching to 5th wheel mode: removing that solid fiberglass tonneau cover on the truck - it is heavy!  We took it off the truck (8 bolts hold it in place), put it on a dolly and wheeled it to the back of the storage unit, behind the HitchHiker (yeah, there is plenty of length in there).  With that done, Big Red moves from "sport truck" mode to hauling mode.

A few personal items to put in there, shut down the house, hook up the cargo trailer, and we'll be ready to roll.  On schedule.  What was that "no schedule when you're retired" thing I may have mentioned in the past??

So, what's that deciding bit in the title of this post?  Thanks for asking.  It's about 6 blocks from the swing bridge off our island to the gas station we normally patronize here (with the boat on the water and truck on land); that street has been riddled with potholes.  Riding the scooter on that street is like running a slalom course.

The city filled some of those potholes this week.  The key word in that sentence is: some.  It isn't like they left the smallest... or the biggest.  Really, they filled most of them.  Is there a pothole commission that decides which ones to leave?  As near as I can tell, it is pretty random... as in: 12 in a row filled, then leave one out; then 5 more and leave one unfilled.  I wonder if it was a conscious decision, or if they just weren't looking that close?  Decisions, decisions.  ;-)

Well, it works...

We made our first trip to the HitchHiker today, with a truck full of stuff to load onboard.  The first thing we noticed when opening the door to the storage unit: it was still clean.  That's a beautiful thing.  I turned on the batteries, Joan checked the monitor: still reading full capacity; another good thing.  I plugged it in, and she put out the bedroom slide (so we could see what needs to go in or out of the closet)...

It "felt like home" when we went inside to load up.  Nice that the storage unit is wide enough to be able to put out the slides while inside the unit.

The storage unit seems to be the best we've experienced so far: plenty tall and wide, insulated, and ventilated; concrete floor.  More than enough length.

We'll be making another trip to the storage unit to finish the loading process, and not bringing the HitchHiker to our island for loading... we'll see how this works.

Eatin' and packin'...

Seems that's all we do these days.

My cousin and his wife showed up in town last night.  He is not one to give us any heads up, so we were otherwise occupied last night.  We arranged to have breakfast this morning.  He asked, "Where is the best place in town for breakfast?"

Without hesitation, I said, "Manuel's"

Without knowing anything about the place, he said he wanted to go somewhere else.  "Then why the hell did you ask??"  Sometimes it is easier to say, "Fine," and just move on (insert the "teaching a pig to sing" story here).

This morning, when I called to make sure he was up, he said, "What is the name of that place you wanted to go?"

"Doesn't matter, we aren't going there."

"Why not?  How do we get there?"

"We aren't going there.  YOU didn't want to go there.  It will be packed now, so we'll go to the crappy place you want."  That may have come out a bit harsher than I meant.

Teaching a pig to sing: it will never happen, you will get frustrated, and it will just annoy the pig.  I am not implying my cousin is a pig.

Breakfast was mediocre (as expected), but I generally do have some fun visiting with my crazy-ass cousin.

We came home and went to work getting things ready to take to the 5th wheel.

We had already arranged for a late lunch with friends Mike and M. J.  No fussing about where to go, we had a delightful late lunch and fun conversation at Pier 19.  Afterwards, we invited them in, since M. J. hasn't had the pleasure of meeting Izzy.  Izzy, of course, acted like they were here to kill her and clung to Joan or slinked around when put down.

Back to the packing again.  The 5th wheel is stored inland, 45 minutes away.  Instead of bringing into the resort here, we are going to try loading it up in the storage unit... with a couple trips.  We'll see how that works out.

I was hoping to put the motor on the inflatable and running some fresh fuel through it today.  It was a beautiful morning, but the tide was way low and the wind started kicking up.  By this afternoon, the tide was up... and the wind was up even more.  Temp above 70º, sunny, and wind out of the south at about a million miles per hour.  Of course, I'm exaggerating... more like a million and 20 miles per hour.  Regardless, I'm not messing with the inflatable in this wind.  It got put away, and the motor has been flushed and fuel run out of the lines and carb.  It will get played with when we come back.

The time is running out fast.  I am ready for some RV traveling, but the moving in and out process is wearing on me.  I don't think Izzy and I will be able to convince Joan that full-time RVing would be a good solution to that moving-in-and-out issue.

How does that happen?

No, this is not "that" talk... that was a lot of years ago.

Our friends, Herb and Wilma, enjoy boating.  In fact, we have a lot of things in common.  We met them 5 or 6 years ago when they were interested in finding out more about our C-Dory (they live in the same town).  I took them for a local cruise in Wild Blue, and we became friends.  Like us, they enjoy the Pacific Northwest; maybe even more than we do (and we like it a lot).  We both left our boats up there this fall, knowing we'd be going back.  They have based themselves out of Anacortes, we're in Friday Harbor.  But, we do get to see each other occasionally, as our paths cross.

Since we've been home (October), that hasn't happened.  Well, I ran by their place on my scooter one day, but we haven't gotten together with the 4 of us.  They've been gone, we've been gone.  They've had company, we've had company.  Knowing that we're both heading out again soon, we got together today for lunch... and lots of visiting.

Sometimes everyday life gets in the way of living, and as I mentioned yesterday, "being people."  I read something on someone's tagline on one of the forums I visit: "Life is like a roll of toilet paper - the closer you get to the end, the faster it goes."

Yeah, I get that.