It’s Day 367 of 15 Days to Flatten the Curve. Deb and I are soggy but fine.
Even after only two nights in the campground we left this morning, it truly was hard to drive away — it’s an amazing place, a real treat for us. We capped the experience last night with Tennessee whiskey, a roaring fire and a starry sky.
We knew we’d be striking camp in the rain today. I got a head start and packed up what I could, and Deb helped me dump the holding tanks, before the worst of it came down. Still, I had to unhook our utilities and stow that gear during a downpour.
At one point a fellow RVer strolling by with his dog called out to me. “That’s the saddest part of this, isn’t it? You have to pack up and leave.”
“Maybe so,” I replied, “but leavin’ here means I get to go somewhere else.”
He smiled. “You’re absolutely right.”
“By the way,” I said, “I like your hat.”
The man stopped. turned and pointed a finger at me.
“Eighty million of us, my friend. Eighty million.”
Easing the bus out of our site minutes before check-out time, I steered toward the lake and rolled around the campground loop so we could absorb the setting one more time before making our way to the exit. We’re definitely coming back to this place.
Ernie’s fuel gauge is on the fritz, always pegged past the full mark. Because this is our first trip in this bus we have no real idea of what kind of fuel mileage to expect or how much range we can get from the 100-gallon tank. So with well over 400 miles behind us since the last fillup, much of that in the mountains, we decided that we’d buy diesel today between campgrounds.
We got our answer — eight miles to the gallon. That’s actually not too bad.
At that rate we have a maximum practical range of 600 to 650 miles. We’ll probably get into the habit of refueling every 500 miles. Fuel economy will improve in flatter terrain, of course. And we also have to account for what the generator consumes when we use it.
A half-dozen rainy miles on the Interstate after the fuel stop brought us to our next overnight landing pad. We have another 50A full-hookup deal, this one a pull-in/back-out site on the bank of a lazy river.
When I say “on the bank,” I mean that when I parked the coach, I was sitting as close to the river’s edge as I was to Ernie’s rear bumper.
And tonight we’re under a flood watch.
It’s a nifty little place, a few hundred yards off a busy thoroughfare, several dozen RV sites tucked away behind a retail strip and an industrial park. We’re pointed across the water with a park-like view. Previous guests have reported seeing all manner of wildlife from this spot.
Unfortunately, wood-burning fires are prohibited. House rules.
We’re looking forward to chilling here for a few days before making another short hop to our next shakedown destination. All is going well — perhaps even better than we’d hoped it would.
Take care of yourselves, Patriots. Stay calm Stay sharp. Stay free.