In a world that exists only in fervent hopes and fond wishes, I’d go outside and switch propane tanks always during daylight hours, when I’m already up and about. But, as that old TV commercial tried to tell me, that’s not how it works — that’s not how any of this works.
For the second time in a week, I woke up with a cold nose, this time at 3:30am, my first clue that the furnace was out of gas. Both space heaters were running, but with an outside temp of 20°F, they only were able to keep the inside of the camper in the low to mid-50s.
I bundled up, went out to the propane bay, spun valves and moved the selector from the empty tank to the full one. Back indoors, I rebooted the furnace. It ran for an hour before reaching 68°F, when the thermostat told it to shut off.
Now we had ourselves a 30-pound cylinder in need of a refill. That’s a very good thing, and here’s why.
Today, Saturday, I could buy propane until noon. Everyplace will be closed tomorrow, ’cause it’s Sunday. Monday is a federal holiday, and honestly I’m not sure who observes it here and who doesn’t. (Deb, for example, is off that day. Then again, she works for a bank, and banks observe everything.) Based on how quickly we’re blowing through LP, I wanted to have as much of it on-hand as possible between now and Tuesday morning.
So my empty tank meant that I could have a full one. Get it?
Eyeballing the forecast, I see that the weather wizards have backed way off on how much snow we’ll see tomorrow, now predicting only a few inches. We’re still looking at four straight single-digit overnights, though. Around 4pm today the temperature will drop below freezing, and we won’t see 32°F again ’til noon on Wednesday.
Yeah, it does get cold in Ozarkansas. In this, our third winter here, we’ve come to expect it.
Underneath this fleece blanket is a dog, and a damned spoiled one. When Miss Smudge and I come in from her day’s first business trip, she hops up on Deb’s recliner and waits for me to cover her with the blanket. And that’s where she’ll stay, cozy and warm, ’til breakfast is served.
When we fit the cabin with systems and appliances, the only things consuming liquid propane will be the range and oven, with the possible addition of a gas-fueled on-demand water heater. We’ve pretty much decided to go with a bank of two or three take-and-refill cylinders (rather than installing one large bulk tank), and that 30-pounders — like those the fifth-wheel uses — would be the most manageable size.
Two tanks came with the camper, and they’ll stay with it when we sell it. For the sake of convenience, we bought a third. When I had our empty cylinder re-filled at Miller Hardware this morning, and considering the looming chill, I picked up another 30-pound tank.
That gives us a total of four in rotation now, two of which (the new ones) will go to the cabin.
On our way to the laundromat in Gassville, I pulled off at the scenic overlook to confirm that all three bridges spanning The Mighty White at Cotter — the new (1988) US Route 62 bridge, the old railroad bridge, and the historic arch bridge — can be viewed from that spot. With the leaves off the trees, indeed they can.
We did our laundry a day early, as advertised. On our way Home, stopped at Harps and filled a few gaps in our pantry. I carried laundry baskets and groceries to the camper and cabin when we returned to The Mountain, then dove into my last three pre-arctic-blast tasks — dump tanks, blanket the speed bump and heat the wet bay.
When I pulled the drain valve on the black tank, stuff started flowing normally — but then it stopped. It was as if the sewer hose was blocked or something.
Oh, it definitely was blocked — about 15 feet of the 20-foot Stinky Slinky was frozen solid. I hope I don’t have to explain why that’s a problem. But how the hell did that happen?
This fifth-wheel is equipped with two gray-water tanks, one for the bath (sink and shower) and one for the galley sink. The drain valve for the latter is busted, stuck in the open position, which hasn’t been a big deal to us — we’re permanently connected to septic, after all. Waste water from the kitchen just trickles out the drain, along the Stinky Slinky and down the hatch.
And that worked great, too, until we hit a stretch of several sub-freezing nights bookended by days when the temp didn’t get all that warm. Little by little, gray water froze in the bottom of the hose, eventually blocking it completely. Honestly, we feel pretty stoopid for not having foreseen this.
Now, if you encountered this problem, what’s the first tool you’d reach for?
Exactly. Deb handed me her hair dryer and I tried to thaw the hose, starting at the downstream end. It had the desired effect, but that’s not to say it worked — way too slow, not nearly enough power to get the job done.
I took a break, and I wondered — what did I have that could generate more heat, over more area, faster?
Exactly. There’s a shower fixture in the wet bay, so I used it to fill a five-gallon bucket with hot water and slowly poured it over the ice-choked sewer hose. I filled another bucket and did it again. That exhausted our ten-gallon supply of hot water, and I was prepared to wait for the system to regenerate — but then Deb, hair dryer in hand, reported from the outlet end that things were starting to move.
Soon the hose was clear. And we have a new rule — nothin‘ goes down the galley sink ’til spring.
The other two items on my list were easy and went smoothly.
I previously protected our fresh-water supply hose with a heated cable and wrapped it with pipe insulation. The exception is the length that runs through the speed bump, which doesn’t have room for the insulation.
The other day I remembered that we have an old patio mat stored in the shed, and I thought it’d make a dandy temporary “blanket.” I laid it down this afternoon — three layers thick — and weighted it down with concrete pavers.
Last was a (literal) plug-and-play affair. I set up a small ceramic heater, purchased originally for the motorhome before The Christmas Deep-Freeze of 2022, in the camper’s wet bay.
So we’re ready. Now, will it all work? Stay tuned.
I stopped to catch this image of a single deer crossing our road as I was heading out for propane this morning. Two others followed her. Best I can tell, there are at least two such trios of whitetails spending time on this side of The Mountain.
Take care of yourselves, Patriots. Stay calm. Stay sharp. Stay free.
#WiseUp #LibertyOrDeath #Ungovernable
#LetsGoBrandon #FJB
