So We Bought This Motor Home! Part Three.

We woke up on the Saturday of Memorial Day weekend and realized that there was nothing holding us back any longer. We had enjoyed our evening with good friends, good food and fun times, and now we were free to get on with our dream. We truely were free and ready to nudge Holly in a westward direction to chase the sunsets.

We were on our way as I turned Holly's nose toward South Dakota and cautiously pressed the gas peddle down. Wow! She was purring like a kitten, and before we knew it we were closing in on the Black Hills!

What a beautiful day. The sun was high in a crystal blue sky and the temperature was in the mid 60's. You couldn't ask for better traveling weather, then it happened. Sort of out of the blue!

Isn't it funny that just as you think the world is perfect and you are whistling Zippity Doo Dah, some one throws a big cow patty right into your lap? Really? Shouldn't there be a law against that?

Only in this case, it wasn't really a cow patty. More like a hill. A real big hill. Strangely, a series of them.

How unthoughtful! Every where else they just blow up the hill and string a ribbon of blacktop along where the hill used to be. Evidently those guys were off the day they put the road through the Black Hills because I don't even think they did much more than lay the tar on the ground and squash it down.

Good grief! I mean I expected the drive to be a bit slower than in a passenger car, but I didn't expect Holly to be screaming up the hill at a whopping 25 MPH. Jeez Louise! At this rate it was going to take a month to get across South Dakota! Something just had to be wrong!

Finally we were passed Dead Wood, which seems to be built entirely on a hill. We strained, groaned and grunted up the hills, and in some cases people were pointing at us as they walked by on foot as we screamed up the hill. (Okay, I am exaggerating. Actually, there was only one guy who passed us, and he was on a bicycle, and he was doing something with his fingers that really dosen't constitute actually pointing at us, but that's beside the point.)

The Fact Of The Matter Is,

I was shot, B was shot, and Holly certainly was done for the day, and after filling up Holly who had worked up quite an appetite, we looked for a place to rest our weary heads. We found the White Tail Campgrounds.

Wow! We had found the perfect spot to rejuvenate our spirits, and rest Hollie's exhausted heart and tires! We were parked along a beautiful babbling brook, with a water fall no less! In fact, since our sleeping loft is in the front, we simply pulled straight in so we could listen to the brook while we slept at night.

Yup, believe it or not, (Well, for the two of you waiting for this installment, you know! The rest of you will just have to take my word for it!) an entire year, a whole lot of miles, and a lot of Stuff has occurred since I started this Hub.

Where on God's green earth do I begin? S'pose I could start at the end and work myself backwards! Um, naw that wouldn't work. Mainly cause we haven't quite gotten there yet, so guess I just should start some where. (OMG! I just read that myself and realized that either the elevation has affected my brain, or I am absorbing Oregonitus by Osmosis.)

Let's just get on with it.

So Holly made it out here! Really! With two, count them, two new passengers to boot! Yup! Ubetcha!

What?

Just give me a second and I'll explain. (Good grief, don't get all over excited and slobbery and stuff.)

Let me begin explaining just how traumatic the mountains can be to someone who has been a flatlander all their life. I am of course speaking of my love, B. (I am relatively sure I have mentioned her in passing once or twice.) For those familiar with the midwest, about the highest hills are the rocks that push up in the fields in the spring.

Now I am not saying B has never seen mountains, and I am not saying she has not been through them before. Check out "The Migration of The Bi-Polar Snowbirds." if you need proof. But the mountains out here are a different animal, and know what? The damn things are all over the place out here. In fact, B started noticing the big ground bumps around Utah.

Snowville, Utah to be exact. And, that's where we picked up our two new passengers.

Okay, we made it to this neat little town in Utah called Snowville. The day had been pretty much the same. A long ribbon of highway buzzing beneath our wheels, and after stopping countless times for, (and mind you, this is not a comprehensive list by any means.)

• Gas
• Gas
• Gas
• Mechanic to see why we need so much gas.
• Gas
• pee (Yes. I do have to once in a while.)
• Mechanic to see why I can't go uphill at a faster pace than a one legged jogger.
• Did I mention Gas?

See, the mountains were bad enough, but going up them at a snails pace was getting old, causing the trip to far extend beyond the time frame we thought, and B was getting a bit more nervous as the days went on. (Me too! I won't lie to you!!!)

So we bought this motor home, tried to figure out the massive set of books and papers that came with her which may as well been written in Sand script because three quarters of the stupid thing are schematic drawing of electrical circuits and such. Figured we would figure things out on the fly. (Who the hell was I trying to fool?)

Anyway, we made a command decision. We closed our eyes, jabbed our finger at the map, and before we opened our eyes, we agreed that where ever we were pointing to when we opened them, that is where we would stop and refuse to move untill we:

1. Found a mechanic who could tell us why turtles could beat us in an uphill race.
2. Get a better answer to that question than "Idunno"
3. Have refreshed and regrouped.
4. Have someone come and rescue us.
5. Die.

We opened our eyes, and there we both saw that my finger was clearly pointing to a spot, dead smack in the middle of Death Valley.

So we tried again. This time, well, just never mind. Anyway B looked at the map and saw that we were about three miles away from Snowville, and that would do just fine. Although I was a bit disappointed at her lack of adventurism at the prospect of Death Valley, I did acknowledge that it was a bit of a drive and proceeded with all the speed I could muster to fulfill her wish.

Lotty Dah.

Well, Lottey Dell to be exact. The Lottey Dell Campground just on the outskirts of Snowville, Utah was an oasis for us. Although we didn't know that would be the case when we first arrived. You see, this place was completely on the honor system.

Really.

In this day and age, there are actually people out there that trust that other people will be honest. What a concept! Of course we stayed.

In fact, we paid on the spot for two weeks and picked out our spot. And when we fell asleep that night, we dreamed. Oh yah. We dreamed, cause as we pulled in, we noticed that all 30 of the acres the Lottey Dell campground sat on, including the two acre driving range, the cabins, and the residence were for sale, and in the price range we had set for ourselves.

To sleep, perchance to dream.

Aw c'mon. Just for a bit. I promise you won't have to wait long. Part 4 has been rescued from the shredder, and is being put together as you read along!

Untill then, Peace love and light, and Happy Bi-Polaring!