T-minus-1/2 Fingers Crossed

...and, just as NASA would, we instituted a Hold at T-minus-3.  The idea is, of course, that we're headed out West.  And we tell people that's our destination.  And Debbie fleshes that out: "We'll figure it out as we go."

But we couldn't go immediately because of a mysterious electrical issue in our "towed vehicle", which will follow behind closely everywhere we go.  Some people who have one call it a "dinghy", but it seems lately most call it a "toad" [get it?].  So we have a Honda toad and The Book says as long as we don't exceed 65 it will be happy.  Once we figure out why the battery keeps losing charge.  Or maybe it was just a fall hiccup and the thing is Good to Go this spring.  The techs say it is.  Debbie worries. John says, "We'll deal with it. They have Harbor Freights everywhere these days, don't they?"

But with a wonderful weekend of sun, we finished spring cleaning the coach, transferring 30 years of possessions from the house, cleaning the house, and we think that we are GtG, as well.

One last chore that this wickedly wobbly winter (and John's lack of planning) left him:  empty the gas from the snow blower.

Usually it's a ten minute noise while people's windows are shut against the last of the winter cold.  Today the furshlinger thing ran 52 minutes on a windows-open kind of day and showed no sign of running out of gas.  So we shut it off before they ran us out of the neighborhood.

Then Greg and Katie stopped by to wish us well and didn't mention the noise and then Dave and Theresa rode their bikes by and didn't say anything about it, either, even though they stopped to chat for half an hour.  It's that kind of neighborhood.

We told them our 40-foot long home on 6 wheels is a step up from backpacking, which John misses, but then he also misses being younger.  And, bonus!  Debbie does not have to specialize in one-pot meals anymore.

Manistee River Trail, between
Hodenpyle and Tippy dams.

See you later.