The headline of today’s post answers the question posed at the top of yesterday’s.
It wasn’t enough.
I’ll start by saying that everything we did worked — and I mean it absolutely worked. The furnace ran great, although at 2am I had to tickle the propane supply by lighting a stove burner. Our freeze-mitigation measures did exactly what they were intended to do, from the well to the camper.
And yet we awoke at 6:30am this morning to no water. It was one of those exasperating Whiskey Tango Foxtrot moments that Life tosses us all now and then. So the answer to another question I asked in yesterday’s post — Did we miss something? — was, it seemed, yes.
But what?
(Be warned, I’m gonna go into some detail here about the problem and our search for a solution. If that doesn’t interest you, this won’t be your favorite Ubi Libertas Blog post. But if you’re inclined to geek-out about this shit — like my social-media friend who suggested this morning that I “could write scenes for MacGyver” — you just might enjoy it.)
Once I had daylight on my side, I geared up and went out (3°F, light snow) to methodically troubleshoot the problem. First I confirmed that we had power to the heated hose, the heated conductor for the hose under the speed bump, and the ceramic heater in the wet bay — all good. Then I shut off the water, disconnected the hose at the hydrant and, fingers firmly crossed, turned the water back on.
The strong stream put my mind at ease. If something was indeed frozen, at least it wasn’t the really expensive stuff.
My next step was to see if the hoses themselves were choked with ice. Both Deb and I suspected that the freeze-up problem most likely was in the one running across the driveway, defying my creative solutions, but it turned out to be clear. Naturally, the heated hose checked out fine.
With all of that ruled out, it could mean only one thing — whatever had frozen was somewhere inside the camper.
I left the water off, came back indoors, sat down and began thinking through what I know about this fifth-wheel’s fresh-water-delivery system. It didn’t take long for me to come up with a working theory.
Water enters the wet bay, where it flows into a series of lines and valves before passing through the back wall of the bay and on to the fixtures in the living space. We use the small ceramic heater to warm the wet bay, but its heat wouldn’t be able to reach what’s on the other side of the wall.
I’d seen that space before, while working around the water pump last summer. It’s easy to get to by removing an access panel. I went back out and took a look — along with the pump were all of the fresh-water PEX lines. And the closed-off space definitely got cold enough this morning to freeze.
Fortunately, there was plenty of room for a space heater. (Apparently, you can’t have too many of those if you do what we’re doin’ up here.)
One of our compact toadstool heaters fit perfectly (and safely). I left it on the low (750W) setting, went back inside and poured myself a cup of coffee.
An hour later, I turned on water at the hydrant and returned to check the PEX and fittings for leaks. (There weren’t any.) A quick tour of the camper’s faucets and fixtures showed that the little heater had done the trick — we had water again.
The exercise, which ended in success, obviously adds to our storehouse of lessons learned. That bonus more than makes up for any frustration encountered along the way.
With that behind me and, thanks to Deb, a hot lunch in my belly, I did what I’d been itchin’ to do since the first flakes fell — pull the Ranger out of the shed and go play in the snow. We knew we wouldn’t be out long in these temperatures (between 10°F and 14°F), but since Nature had given us a postcard, we thought we oughta get out and explore it.
We drove down to the subdivision road, turned around and churned up the cut toward the summit. This snow (as much as six inches of it, I’d guess) is powdery and fine, and it doesn’t give up traction easily. Still, in 4WD and low range, taking care not to spin the tires, our Polaris didn’t struggle to make the grade.
Up-top, the scene was glorious, just magnificent. We lingered a little while longer than we thought we would, stopping on the way down to scatter feed for the deer before returning to the warmth of the RV.
I’ll confess to you that even though I’d dressed for conditions, I wasn’t what you’d call comfortable. It took hours afterward for my aging joints, especially my hands, to stop aching from the effects of the cold. Deb could tell a similar story.
Was it worth the trouble? Hell, yes. It was great to be out, to be up there again, to step beyond comfort and experience The Mountain on a snow-dusted Monday in January.
But I think I’m due for some better gloves.
Take care of yourselves, Patriots. Stay calm. Stay sharp. Stay free.
#WiseUp #LibertyOrDeath #Ungovernable
#LetsGoBrandon #FJB