Wild West Adventures - RV Life Day #10
You haven't lived unless you've traveled to Beatty, NV with a 32 foot RV and bike trailer!
California state road 168 headed east was not the route I would've chosen jockeying for speed in Pole Position! Twisting and turning, uphill, downhill in the desert canyon between the posted 25 and 35 miles per hour left me white-knuckled. I remember mounting a hill, trusting that the invisible downhill would not be too steep, bottoming out the RV and leaving our bike rack behind.
Road narrows and one-way traffic ahead? You've gotta be frickin' kidding me! I wondered should I sound the horn driving a house on wheels with no shoulder room for error? A BMW sped ahead, leaving me in the desert dust as I tried to maneuver yet another loop de loop. Wheee! Downshifting the recreational vehicle into third gear doesn't pack the same punch. He's surely in pole position now.
"I think I'm going to throw up," my daughter shouted from the back of the bus, where air conditioning with a broken generator amounts to windows wide open and desert heatwaves you can see, meanwhile our black Schnoodle was licking her lips, a sure sign she was going to toss the half loaf of bread and taco she stole off the RV counter last night.
After two hours of cyclonic terror, I turned over the reigns of my last-place bucking bronco, thankful she didn't need a lasso to haul her ass outta the ditch. My husband coasted on I-95 as we were transported back in time into the former gold-rush mining town of Beatty, Nevada on the outskirts of Death Valley where we hitched up our wagon, hell bent on rustling up some wild west adventures in the ghost town!
Who knew, I too, could literally sweat my balls off in Beatty, NV? Apparently, anything is possible at 105 degrees, according to my three boys who, without a stitch of clean clothes, headed off in swim trunks to 'bathe' in the Death Valley RV Park swimming pool. Meanwhile, I saddled up my burro pack and headed to the local laundromat for some good clean fun!
I'm fairly certain I swore off laundromats in year seven of marital bliss when we purchased our first home. Traveling back to my college days, the cheap coin operated washers, reminding me not to overload, looked about as promising as the free Wifi.
How many loads of laundry can six people produce in a week? At least four loads and, dagnabbit, there's no promise your clothes will get clean. At 25 cents for six minutes of drying, I figure I spent between ten and fifteen dollars and a lifetime at the Death Valley RV Park laundromat yesterday and our shorts were still covered in Yosemite tree sap.
Covid-19 hand sanitizer to the rescue! Thank you @TheLateBoyScout for the YouTube tutorial. He's not sure how it works, but the more nostril burning, the better. I'm fairly certain this miracle solution's alcohol content is the cure for everything from tree sap covered shorts and dirt brown socks, to black silly putty stuck on my red couch. Whether you're forced to have family fun or douse the hand sanitizer with an empty RV water tank, Covid-19 ain't all bad, and like RV parks, there's a silver lining in every OK Corral.
From palm trees to air conditioned laundromats, to the thirst quenching ice machine and refreshingly Covid-vacated swimming pool, we had a hog-killin' time and not even the lukewarm tap water could get these settlers down. Today we are chlorine clean as we saddle up our bikes and head off, lickety split on another RV adventure. We'll always remember the old-fashioned hospitality and free propane at the Death Valley RV Park, our oasis in the desert.
California state road 168 headed east was not the route I would've chosen jockeying for speed in Pole Position! Twisting and turning, uphill, downhill in the desert canyon between the posted 25 and 35 miles per hour left me white-knuckled. I remember mounting a hill, trusting that the invisible downhill would not be too steep, bottoming out the RV and leaving our bike rack behind.
Road narrows and one-way traffic ahead? You've gotta be frickin' kidding me! I wondered should I sound the horn driving a house on wheels with no shoulder room for error? A BMW sped ahead, leaving me in the desert dust as I tried to maneuver yet another loop de loop. Wheee! Downshifting the recreational vehicle into third gear doesn't pack the same punch. He's surely in pole position now.
"I think I'm going to throw up," my daughter shouted from the back of the bus, where air conditioning with a broken generator amounts to windows wide open and desert heatwaves you can see, meanwhile our black Schnoodle was licking her lips, a sure sign she was going to toss the half loaf of bread and taco she stole off the RV counter last night.
After two hours of cyclonic terror, I turned over the reigns of my last-place bucking bronco, thankful she didn't need a lasso to haul her ass outta the ditch. My husband coasted on I-95 as we were transported back in time into the former gold-rush mining town of Beatty, Nevada on the outskirts of Death Valley where we hitched up our wagon, hell bent on rustling up some wild west adventures in the ghost town!
Who knew, I too, could literally sweat my balls off in Beatty, NV? Apparently, anything is possible at 105 degrees, according to my three boys who, without a stitch of clean clothes, headed off in swim trunks to 'bathe' in the Death Valley RV Park swimming pool. Meanwhile, I saddled up my burro pack and headed to the local laundromat for some good clean fun!
I'm fairly certain I swore off laundromats in year seven of marital bliss when we purchased our first home. Traveling back to my college days, the cheap coin operated washers, reminding me not to overload, looked about as promising as the free Wifi.
Covid-19 hand sanitizer to the rescue! Thank you @TheLateBoyScout for the YouTube tutorial. He's not sure how it works, but the more nostril burning, the better. I'm fairly certain this miracle solution's alcohol content is the cure for everything from tree sap covered shorts and dirt brown socks, to black silly putty stuck on my red couch. Whether you're forced to have family fun or douse the hand sanitizer with an empty RV water tank, Covid-19 ain't all bad, and like RV parks, there's a silver lining in every OK Corral.
From palm trees to air conditioned laundromats, to the thirst quenching ice machine and refreshingly Covid-vacated swimming pool, we had a hog-killin' time and not even the lukewarm tap water could get these settlers down. Today we are chlorine clean as we saddle up our bikes and head off, lickety split on another RV adventure. We'll always remember the old-fashioned hospitality and free propane at the Death Valley RV Park, our oasis in the desert.
Comments
Post a Comment