Yesterday was so damned jammed that I missed an anniversary — hard as it is for me to believe, it was on October 9th, 2020 that I launched Ubi Libertas Blog.
There’s not a chance in hell that I could’ve predicted then where I’d be now.
I wrote that first post at my desk at Second Chance Ranch. Today I began typing this post on my phone, sitting in a camp chair outside a 40-foot diesel pusher, warmed by coffee and an Ozarks sunrise. And this is Home.
None of that showed up on my personal radar two years ago.
On this day last October we piloted the Ernie-Mercy rig from central Iowa to a campground east of KCMO, the second-to-last travel day on our run back from Montana. Exactly a month before that we stood on the shore of Kintla Lake, and this day last August we watched the sun set over the South Dakota prairie.
Ten months ago today Deb and I drove the Ranger to the summit of The Mountain for the first time. Eight months ago I retired and seven months ago I was preparing to spill the beans that we planned to move to Arkansas.
Three months ago we auctioned off most of our worldly possessions.
And today, the 10th of October, 2022, we learned that closing the sale of Second Chance Ranch has been delayed again, until next week. (The contractor who’d been dragging his ass on the last piece of information required for closing just up and quit. The buyers’ lender now has to find another government-approved contractor to generate a new FHA-required estimate.)
And so Ubi Libertas Blog, which began in a small room paneled in knotty pine, enters its third year under blue Arkansas skies. From political commentary to travelog to an uprooting of our American Life, it’s covered a lot of ground.
Some of y’all have been here since the beginning — or even before, when I was posting daily tomes on Facebook. But whether you’re a long-time reader or just now discovering this blog, know that I truly appreciate your kind attention.
After visiting The Mountain both days over the weekend, we’re spending our Monday at the campground. The place is clearing out, the last of the bike-rally crowd leaving this morning, and quieter.
The latest delay in the sale of Second Chance Ranch, which I mentioned earlier, deals a serious blow to our plans — not what we’re doing, necessarily, but when. We did everything we could to meet our goal of living on The Mountain before the snow flies this year. Now, due to breathtaking incompetence and an absence of urgency throughout the process, it looks like we won’t be in until next spring. It’s costing us thousands of dollars and months of time. And there’s no excuse for it.
We’ve been in contract with this buyer for ten weeks. And that’s after two weeks in contract with another “pre-approved” buyer who turned out to be a student-loan deadbeat.
It’s shaping up that we’ll spend our second straight winter in Harrison, planted at this campground. There are far worse places, I guess, and we know what to expect. And we can be on our little piece of heaven in an hour, any time we want.
We just can’t stay.
I’d much rather be in a humble house on The Mountain, of course. We held up our end of the bargain to make that happen this year. But others broke commitments and let us down, so Deb, Scout, Dipstick and I will be living in the bus a good while longer.
At least we’re in The Ozarks.
Take care of yourselves, Patriots. Stay calm. Stay sharp. Stay free.