Yesterday didn’t begin like our Mondays typically do. And it ended with the unexpected.
As advertised, I started my day giving the new Predator 5000 its post-break-in oil change — the clock read 37 hours, close enough to the recommended 30. That ritual maintenance consumed half an hour only because I allowed myself time to enjoy it.
Checking my mental to-do list, next I wanted to stow my tools and run the generator awhile after its transfusion. Then I’d handle regular Monday stuff — gather trash, load empty gas cans into the bed of my truck, etc.
I barely had my gear put away when a commotion at the bottom of the driveway drew my attention. Deb, who was inside the RV, heard it at the same time and hollered out to me.
It was a big ol’ bucket truck from the power company — followed by another large rig, and then two more. One towed a gooseneck trailer, on which was a skid-steer fitted with a massive hammer drill.
Clearly, these guys meant business. The time was 8am.
“Y’all ready for some power?” the boss man said to me, grinning.
The skid-steer took 40 minutes to hammer a six-foot-deep hole in the solid rock. Cooling compressed air from a support truck created huge clouds of dolostone dust, depositing a thick layer of the stuff on everything downwind. When that was done, a crew of two readied our temporary pole, set the transformer pole and hoisted the transformer.
They ran overhead cables and connected them, then applied power to the meter. The entire job was finished by 11am.
And so we’re officially on the grid — at long last, there’s power on The Mountain.
Once they’d rolled away, we stowed the generator until it’s needed again. We’re running both ACs. The fridge and the water heater have been pulled off propane and are operating on 120VAC shore power. We no longer have to shut everything else off to use the microwave.
No more juggling. No more stifling nights (for us or the dogs). And no more fifty-dollar gas runs three times a week.
We proved to ourselves that we can live off-grid. We learned one helluva lot, and we’re ready to do it again if need be. (That day is coming for all of us, by the way.) But today we take license to celebrate 21st-century ease and modern conveniences.
We still have a very long way to go. What we’ve done so far is, in no small way, the setting of foundation stones for what’s to come.
Now you’d think that after such a major development on The Mountain, I would’ve been anxious to share the news right away here on the blog. And I was. But this day still had more in store.
Late in the afternoon, Deb’s cousin rode up to our homesite on his quad. The three of us drank a toast to living on the grid, and we talked at length about where things will go from here.
It was after dark when two duallies pulling goosenecks arrived — our site contractor, there to pick up the house kit he’d agreed to buy.
Before he and his helper started loading, we walked the homesite (with headlamps) and discussed the work he’ll do as part of the deal. (Maybe next Thursday. Maybe.) As I’d predicted, they weren’t able to take all of the kit in one trip. Three skids remain by the roadside, to be removed the day the dirt work gets done.
Deb and I actually were in bed before they finished and drove back down The Mountain. But before we retired, we set up camp chairs in the middle of the driveway and did some stargazing.
Cool breeze. Crystal-clear night. Arrayed over our heads were more stars than we’d seen since two years ago on the prairies of South Dakota. The Milky Way was visible in the southern sky.
It was too late for blogging. At the end of one very good day, I simply went to bed.
A light rain was pattering on the roof when I opened my eyes this morning. It wasn’t enough to wash away all the dust left behind by yesterday’s drilling, but it set a wonderfully soft mood on The Mountain.
Inside the camper, and for the first time, we awoke in true comfort. There was no urgency to stage the generator and get ahead of the rising sun. We did, however, have plans for our Tuesday, and we wanted to get underway early.
Our destination was Harrison, the town that had been good to us over the many months it served as our home base. Today, naturally, the place felt familiar, but we also had the unmistakable sense that we were just visiting. Though we enjoy Harrison and remember fondly our time there, it was clear that Home is on The Mountain.
We ran a few errands, topped-off the Silverado’s tank (gas is ten cents cheaper over there) and stopped by the campground to check on Ernie. And we couldn’t pass up the chance to have a late breakfast at Ranch House.
We dropped in on a large RV dealer outside of town to inquire about putting the motorhome on consignment (or selling it outright), the first of two such stops today. This wasn’t a day for making moves, simply exploring options.
Back in Marion County this afternoon, we opened an account at a local community bank, something long overdue. And because it’s Tuesday, we ended this day trip with one of our go-to meals — the incomparable brisket street tacos at Carolyn’s Razorback Ribs.
When we got back to The Mountain, the RV was cool and comfortable, and the pups were happy.
That, then, puts a wrap on two good days. Patience paid off in progress. We were efficient and productive. Things are moving in the right direction, at our pace.
Life is good.
Take care of yourselves, Patriots. Stay calm. Stay sharp. Stay free.
#WiseUp #LibertyOrDeath #Ungovernable
#LetsGoBrandon #FJB