In a fit of anti-frugality this morning, I fired up the generator shortly after 5:30am. Deb was still in bed, having responded to Smudge’s yipping at 1:30am and needing some make-up shuteye. I answered our happy Heeler’s 5am call and got my day underway.
Air conditioning was unnecessary at that hour, so once the generator was running and stabilized I throttled it back to eco just to power the outlets and the converter/charger. Making coffee on the stove was a bit of a struggle — the ignitor dial was acting wonky and gas wasn’t flowing the way I expected. I switched tanks and used a kitchen match.
This rig has a total liquid-propane capacity of 60 pounds (14 gallons), in the form of two 30-pound tanks. When one is empty, keeping things running requires moving a manual lever located on the regulator head in the outside compartment. The empty tank then can be removed and refilled.
Our motorhome’s single fixed tank, by contrast, carries 38 gallons (2.7 times what the fifth-wheel holds), but the whole bus has to visit a filling station when supply runs low.
Each setup has its advantages. What we’re living with now is what we had on the Bumper Bunker (with 50% more LP onboard). It’s easily managed.
Appliances consuming propane in this rig are the refrigerator (all the time, at least ’til we have shore power), the range and oven (as needed), and the water heater (on before showers, off when we’re done). All are relatively efficient, and yet LP use can sneak up on you.
Our plan for today was to get a few routine chores done before we throw ourselves into emptying the shed tomorrow for Monday’s move. Deb had Walmart pickup scheduled for late in the day. On my agenda, the usual — two cans of gasoline ($3.079) and a barrel of fresh water.
On my way back from Flippin, and with no other traffic on the road, I intentionally slowed down and gazed off in directions I don’t normally look. It’s an intriguing drive anyway, but this morning’s exercise revealed surprising scenes, frames, vignettes, postcard views.
My customary patience on the road up The Mountain was rewarded, too — a doe and her twin fawns, pasturing off to my left. A few minutes later and a quarter-mile farther up, another doe and fawns leapt out from my right.
I had my barrel filled and the fresh water replenished before 10am. With that done and the pump stowed, only one task remained — dump the waste-water tanks.
And that’s when our day went straight to hell.
Deb, who takes responsibility for dropping a couple of sanitizing pods into the toilet after I finish draining the black tank, came to me with bad news — waste water was rising in the toilet, not going down. Nothing was overflowing, but we had ourselves a problem.
(Before you ask, no, I haven’t seen the movie.)
We had a clog, somewhere. Maybe even a poop-pyramid, courtesy of the previous owners. It’s not the worst thing that can happen in an RV — that’d be fire, and we speak from experience — but a clogged black tank is pretty bad.
We spent over nine hours trying everything we knew to get black water flowing and the toilet flushing. We went through probably 200 gallons of fresh water. (I filled three barrels at Deb’s cousin’s well.) I worked on freeing things up from the drain end, snaking and back-flushing. Deb alternated between snaking the toilet and sucking up shit water with a five-gallon wet-dry vac.
In the end, we were defeated by the clog. A professional will be here tomorrow afternoon.
And tomorrow’s still shed-cleanout day.
Take care of yourselves, Patriots. Stay calm. Stay sharp. Stay free.
#WiseUp #LibertyOrDeath #Ungovernable
#LetsGoBrandon #FJB