Travels With Oso con Migo
Odyssey In America
OAE On The Road Again, Winter in the Southwest
Greetings
Cohort:
Regarding something I wrote last letter about translating the CDI brochure
into Dutch: I wrote a friend in Holland about it and he wrote back: I [think]
that it would be a complete waste of time! Every Dutchman that would (plan
to) be in the USA for a trip like that would be perfectly able to read
English!
And so I wonder again how many Americans learn the languages of the
countries they visit?
Now it is almost Spring again and I am just getting around to gathering
my notes and culling the photos to put together another letter. They seem
to come further apart. I seem to be very busy for someone who ... what...
is not working? I'm working very hard, just not earning a salary. Yesterday
I made the first pass through the pile of 2002 1040A forms and come up
with a tax due of over $500.00! Not so good for having no W-2's to go with
it. I must be doing something wrong.
15th October 2002, Conway Truck Service, Living in a Garage
Tuesday afternoon. The new motor has arrived. It is a Caterpillar and the
black stripes are pretty narrow so maybe it will be a mild winter. It looks
like it will fit between the frame rails but there will be lots of things
to change. Most everything is on the other side or the other end. Starter,
alternator, compressor, for instance, all will have to be rewired or replumbed.
The fuel lines and the heater hoses look to be in the right place but the
oil pressure mightn't. Not sure where the motor mounts are.
22nd October 2002, Still Living in a Garage...
The
motor is in--at least it is sitting between the rails--and the "front"
mount is attached. Front is in quotes cos it is that mount at the fan end
of the engine, the front as you stand there and look at it, but really
the rear with respect to the bus as a whole. (Speaking of wholes: How is
a bus like a sailboat? A bus is like a pothole in the road that you try
to fill with money. Not quite as poetic perhaps as a sailboat being a hole
in the ocean but the concept of trying to fill the hole with money is just
the same.)
So, now we have to attach the rear mounts, jog the position a bit, shorten
the driveshaft by an inch or so, and reconnect all the wires and hoses
and control cables. May well be another few days...
El Gato is almost ready to go. In the meantime La Gata has pretty well
pulled out the last of the stitches in her foreleg. This time tho the wound
has closed. It never slowed her down tho. Even wearing that silly Elizabethan
collar she still managed to ravage the rugs and climb the curtains. If
this keeps up I may have to lace her kibbles with Ritalin.
26th October 2002, Another Week in the Garage...
I am still in Conway where it is snowing today. In the garage it is almost
cold enough to snow and I am taking some time off from this motor install
process to catch up with the mail. And to warm my fingers and toes.
30th October 2002, The Purr Box Works!
The
Cat Drag'd Inn will be headed west soon. The new motor was started
yesterday and while we still have to connect the radiator and do several
other major things like connect the foot throttle--no simple matter since
it pulls the other way to the old motor--the end is in sight. The light
at the end of the tunnel has turned green.
My mechanic, Paul, said at the end of one recent oh-dark-thirty discussion
of some of the philosophical aspects of that subject --Well, all that comes
with age.
And I replied --All that is about the only thing that comes with age.
3rd November 2002, And we are STill in the Garage...
The new motor is purring along but for the radiator that still needs to
be installed. That at least should require no further custom fitting. Still
have to replace the cowling and bumper behind the engine. That could take
another day. We're shooting for a relaunching on monday afternoon.
6th November 2002, Another Week Becomes Another Month
Needless
to say that departure did not happen. One thing led to another and the
snow engendered numerous road calls that kept Paul hopping instead of welding.
Things got really hectic this morning. (or was that yesterday morning?)
My delayed departure was further delayed. Several cascading glitches complicated
by 4-6 inches of yucky slush in the drive. As we added coolant and cycled
the temperature of the engine a glycol leak developed between the timing
chain cover and the block. Meanwhile the air dryer decided the front end
of the bus needed a little attention; that item led to a rebuild of the
dryer. Tracing the glycol leak uncovered a hot spot where one of the compressed
air lines burst just as we were finding it.
The frosting on the cake so to speak was to find that the aluminium
straps I expected to find at the plumbing and heating shop, long a mainstay
of the insulating ductwork installations, to hold the fibreglass blanket
around the exhaust pipe, have been replaced by plastic things not unlike
Ty-wraps. Zipties I think they are called. Plastic will not do on this
hot exhaust pipe. Have to look elsewhere. Nowhere else in this town. Use
copper lashing wire. Look later...
The heat is working. The lights are working. Sarah La Gata has retreated
to her place of refuge under the galley table. It remains only to finish
a few cosmetic items and wait for the snow to melt in the front yard.
We are on top of it all now. Again...
In addition to all that a letter from the El Dorado Hot Spring place
where I am to work this winter took off some of the urgency. The person
who was to arrive after me has arrived early so the crunch is relieved
and I need not hurry so. Ahh...
The weather this coming weekend bodes well and if the last little project
moves along like the several accomplished today then finally the great
escape will take place without further ado.
Today's new word: defenestrate. As in I feel like defenestrating.
7th November 2002, Almost there...
Supposed to be 15 here tonight. The furnace will work overtime. The view
from the bay is not too good in here, benches piled high with junk and
old parts, tyres and hoses hanging on the walls, the greasy cement floor
is not friendly to bare feet, but the big furnace heats the space nicely
when the bay doors are closed and I can set up my shower over the floor
drain every night or two. I won't complain about the view.
9th November 2002, On The Road Again!
First test drive last night went well: To the dump station for a well earned
evactuation, the grocer's to replenish the larder, and the laundry to clean
up after--I've not had so many dirty-filthy clothes all at once in a long
while. But the drive was nice. There are few different things to get use
to, like more power, and different sounds, and there are a few things that
may have to be changed, like the exhaust pipe, which has already come in
contact with the pavement.
I am excited to get going. This Cat has more pickup, fairly leaps away
from a standing start, and seems to be governor limited to 2500 rpm. That
amounts to about 58 mph which is Ok with me, I usually don't drive faster
than 50-55 anyhow.
This Caterpillar motor has sounds different to the Detroit. Of course
it has been since May that the bus made any noise at all. (When I woke
up the GPS it still thought it was on the west side of Wolf Creek Pass,
between Pagosa Springs and Alamosa Colorado.) The motor sounds louder,
more clattery. Is that why they call it a Clatterpillar? Inside, the bus
is quieter, especially the high frequency sound, but the noise in general
is much reduced so I am extra happy with the new Soundown Insulation.
The exhaust pipe was rerouted at installation to come out beyond the
bumper and at a more shallow angle to avoid blowing up as much dust on
dirt surface roads and campgrounds. However, at the bumper it becomes the
lowest point aft of the drive axle and, given the overhang of the rear
end, there is a high likelyhood of the pipe making contact with pavement
under certain conditions of drainage dips and catchments. The first such
opportunity presented itself upon pulling away from the dumpstation and
I managed to hit it straight on without even aiming. Scruuunnnch! Got to
do something about that...
Now it is time to load up the tender and head south at the next high
tide. Someone suggested breaking a bottle of champagne over the front bumper
but then I'd have to sweep up the glass and all the bubbly would be wasted
in the snow. We'll just drink it instead.
12th November 2002
Judie The Gypsie wrote I should "Just open the bottle, drink some and slash
some on the Cat. A baptism to be gratefully past due. Drink
the rest, get lots of sleep and drive onward ..."
Good idea Judy. But too late for today. Somehow now I am tired of wailing--aren't
you all so glad?--so I'll not tell about the water pump and how I turned
around at Concord and limped all the way back to Conway. Now I may as well
stay until thursday when the next food distribution to the indigent &
elderly takes place.
16th November 2002, Loaded for Bare and Dreaming of The Desert...
After the fiasco with the water pump the next bad news concerns the geen
plant, I am sorry to say that at the moment I cannot remember its name,
that thick leaved, spiky edged thing, Agave perhaps?
It has been leaning to the right (Right maybe?) and antagonising passers
by in the companionway where it took up residence upon coming on board
the bus back in April. Now it appears that one husky leaf has broken off.
Perhaps due to La Gata jumping on it, perhaps due to its tenacious grip
upon those textiled visitors I chance to have once in a while. My worst
experience with this plant is an occasional scratch on my ankle.
So, the question is: It has been too long since the breaking to try
surgical reattachment. Will this leaf survive if I jam it back into the
soil?
Today
I am visiting with one of my sisters who lives in Nashua. There was a bit
of snow this morning and more is forecast later today. I hope to get out
of here this evening and move a little further south. I told Paul, my mechanic
in Conway, that I would look for help elsewhere if I could get as far as
the MAssachusetts border. He breathed a sigh of relief and wished me a
speedy deliverance. There is little chance I will get to El Dorado in time
for Thanksgiving now, more likely that holiday will happen in Z'hills,
or Nawlins. Stay tuned.
In the early '50's, my first Boy Scout Merit Badge was Stamp Collecting.
Since then I have been purchasing plate blocks of new issues. Now that
there are piles of them and I am trying to clean house I find that they
are not such a collectable after all. About the only good use today for
old mint plate blocks is to stick several of them on a letter and mail
it to someone. Attached here is a list of some of
the blocks remaining intact since I have been tearing them apart to
pay postage. If you see anything you need to flesh out your collection
write soon.
18th November 2002, Franklin MAssachusetts, Visiting Old Friends
salt on my roads, salt
in my wounds, clouds overhead,
befuddle my mind.
19th November, Along the Road Someplace, Wandering Jew Takes Flying
Leap
Delorme
and AAA need to add some data to their maps. Something useful. Bridge and
Tunnel Restrictions would be nice. Road Surface Material and Bumpnicity
Factor would be very useful. I should like to be able to route via roads
with fourteen foot height limits, propane permitted, and smooth surface.
If what it takes to find a smooth surface is to drive on the secondary
and terciary roads then that would be usefull to know. Some of these highways
are so bad you end up going at secondary road speeds anyhow.
The wheelbase of the bus and the length of the concrete slabs are such
that when combined with the harmonic relationship of the springs and the
road speed the result is a pitching and tossing not unlike that aboard
the RV Polar Duke whilst crossing the Drake Passage between Punta Arenas
and King George Island. I stopped along the Way to take another Dramamine
and survey the damage. The bookshelf of genealogical tomes and Guy Davenport
novels had emptied itself all over my pillow. All that heavy reading could
have really put to sleep anyone in the bed. Over by the telly the VCR was
hanging out by its cables. The Wandering Jew had leapt from its shelf;
the wet soil was strewn about on the bed and the sprigs of plant looked
like an unforecast diaspora had hit with a vengence.
21st November 2002, Goddard Space Flight Center, Greenbelt MD
I'm writing from the North Carolina Restarea on i85 where a blizzard of
oak leaves is drifting and blowing from a clear sky. The fog of early this
morning has lifted and I have stopped to take a bit of second breky and
a stoll with Sarah La Gata conmigo Booger Mesquite La Rubia Scarface. I
think there is more to her name than that but her tail is not long enough
to record more.
A big tank truck is parked next to me with a company name of "Womanized"
on the side. A man is driving.
Today's new word: lum-pen (lum'puhn, loom'-) adj.
1. of or pertaining to disfranchised and
uprooted individuals or groups, esp.
those who have lost status.
Some of the roads in North Carolina are like that and I felt right at
home.
26th November 2002, About to Depart Jekyll Island.
I was here last year about this time. More crowded now. School seems to
be on holiday, beach crowded and not as much fun. Part of that has to be
that I am more in a hurry. I've not been able to shake off the feeling
of haste that is driving me this time. All these places I want to stop
and visit and at each of them all I want to do is get going again. The
weather was great, and still is, and I did some bike riding on the trails
and the beach but no sand castles this time, no sunbathing and no
kites. Time to go.
2nd December 2002, Frost In FLorida
David has two dogs that between them have seven legs. But it was not the
alligator what did it.
Thirty-five at five-thirty outside The Cat Drag'd Inn in Hudson
this morning. Down in the hollow below David's home, around the alligator's
pond, there was frost upon the grass and a steam rising from the water.
Safe to open Sarah La Gata's hatch, David said, Gators don't feed unless
the temperature is above 85f. He has a large duck wandering around in his
yard. As long as the duck is about then he knows it is safe for his dogs.
This
David is the one on the right in the green shirt in this photo from the
old days. Thanksgiving was with Cousin David who lives in Venice a few
days south of here. Three generations gathered around two tables for a
fine day of rememberance.
Of Eggs and Ex's... Ted has brought to my attention a shift in the pronunciation
of the allophone "ex" as in words: example, exit, exonerate, exfoliate...
In some such words, he says, the shift from "ex" to "eggs" --indicated
as "ek" or "ik" and "ig" respectively in my dictionary--is readily apparent
in today's speech. A cursory inspection of the dictionary pronunciation
of the wordlist *ex* indicates about as many words "ex" as "eggs". In the
case of "exit" both pronunciations are given: (eg'zit, ek'sit). So, who
is right?
Perhaps it is a matter of regionalism? New Hampshire v.s. everywhere
else? Maybe Ted's noticing the influx of dialects from other parts of the
country?
5th December 2002, Visiting Neighbors and Walking in the Sun
Sunnny Oaks Haven camp/club is on the north side of i-10, 60 miles east
of Tallahassee. El Dorado is on the south side, 40 miles west of Phoenix.
Each just about the same distance away from the median but three time zones
apart.
6th December 2002, AL-LA, Mobile in Mobile
Long day, 500 miles...
I picked up an old man who was hitching along i-10. He was returning
to Texas from burying his mother in Chicago. He told me this was only the
second time he had hitched in his life. The first was when he returned
home from basic training in 1953. This time he started out from Chicago
on a bus but he was robbed whilst changing buses and took to hitching.
Strange guy tho. I would have taken him all the way to his home, it was
not far off my route, but he wanted to get off most of a day away from
there. This guy has to be about ten years older than me and here he is
hitching a ride. I felt more remorse about his being robbed than that he
was just coming from burying his mother.
Then there were two guys, one old, one young, with all manner of climbing
hardware dangling from their packs, coming from Montana and going only
another twenty miles west on i-10. Dropped them off and just up the road,
not even up to speed yet, and there is another old guy.
This one has been hitching back and forth across the country for years
he said. Lives in a little tent or sleeps under bridges. He was in FLorida
last week and left about the same time as me. During the day I was walking
around the Live Oak park picking up trash he was hitching and then when
I spent a day driving in the rain he was hiding under a bridge. His last
ride left him off at an exit ramp halfway down the west side of the Mississippi
River bridge and he walked from there at noon to where I picked him up
a few miles, and a few hours, later. We had bean burritos for supper and
I left him off at the next truck stop where I planned to fuel and sleep
before turning south to Galveston.
Interesting that I had not seen any hitchhikers so far this trip and
then there were these four, and several others I passed by, all in one
day, all in a few hundred miles.
8th December, Pepper Land
Is there any relationship between Dr Pepper and Sgt Pepper?
The kids behind the counter of Old Doc's Soda (and gift) Shop at the
Dublin
TeXas Dr Pepper bottling plant did not recognise "Sgt Pepper". Not
even after I added such words as "Beatles" and "Band". The plant at Dublin
has been bottling Dr Pepper for 111 years and is "the only one which continues
to use the original pure cane sugar recipe." The tour through the plant
and museum includes a bottle of the famous 10-2-4 Dr Pepper.
11th December, Christmas Dinner in Amarillo
With Ed and Nan, old friends from way back.
16th Dec The Cat Drag's Inn
The Cat Drag'd Inn has arrived safely at her Winter quarters in
Tonopah (hot water under the bush) AridZona at the El
Dorado Hot Spring. The engine got pretty hot on some of the hill climbs
durning the last few days but I was careful to keep it below 230f. Climbing
out of Salt River Canyon from Globe to Phoenix required the use of a water
spray on the radiator.
But over all the new insulation performed well. Hard to make any seriously
objective comparison with the old insulation since the motor changed at
the same time. The new motor is larger and mounted differently. My impression
is no doubt influenced by my desire to justify the expense of the insulation
however I am satisfied that the bus is quieter and the temperature I observe
on the cabin side of the firewall is somewhat less than before. Before,
150f was not unusual. Now, I think 121f was the highest I saw.
2002 December 25th, Christmas at Ian's. Soaking in The City.
Smog is thick. Traffic is thick. People are thick.
The only snow I have seen since departing Conway fell from the underside
of a truck just down from the high country to the north. There has been
some frost on the lounges in the soaking areas I start up each morning.
Mostly the day time temperatures are climbing into the 40's but still a
little too cool to be comfortable in anything less than what I learned
to know at McMurdo as ECW gear.
Between the weather and the traffic even the view of Saddle Mountain
to the west of the Sunset Pool has been obscured.
On Christmas Eve there appeared in the carpark of Alice's Restaurant
a 1963 Superior Coach. --Only eight of this model were built, said Jack,
the owner/driver who appeared as I was taking a picture of the headlight
detail. This one was constructed as a motor home for Ernest Borgnine but
he never drove it and it was later sold.
Stef made a nice ham dinner. Me'n'Ian made my famous apple-raisen-brandy
pie. Perhaps in view of the truth in packaging rules I should call it apple-brandy-raisen
pie but then some parents mightn't let their kids partake. Lots of leftovers.
Yum!
27th December, The 3rd Day of Christmas
I am reading all manner of reports of snow in the north country and I want
you to know it is white enough here when the frost is on the lounge chairs
and the steam is rising from the hot pools. White enough when the sultry
warm evenings are basking in the light of the full moon.
30th December, Birthday Suit Birthday Party...
...for young Master Ian. He is 13 years old now; gradujusting from Urchin
to Teenangler. The gathering was held in The Corral, the largest hottub
here. A floating table held the candle top'd pumpkin pie and we all sat
around in the hot water. B&J's struggling to maintain its integrity,
guests In Hot Water as we say here. Great fun.
No longer a Master, not yet a Mister. Driver's License next...
2003 Febter 4th, What Ever Happened to New Years? Where Did January
Go?
This morning is to start with some nice Red River hot cereal! Outside is
20f colder than just a couple of days ago.
I
missed you at the Magic Circle. But it was great fun anyhow.
Ian managed to cop a week off school and the weather was the best in
three-four years. Wind enough to fly kites, sunny and warm so as to sunbathe
at the same time. Lots of nude hiking and bike riding until my front tyre
blew out a mile away from camp.
Found a used handheld GPS at one of the fleamarkets. New toy to learn
and new "hobby" to play with. Have you read about geocache
yet?
Now back at Eldo to have a soak and return to work. Ha!
2003 Febter 23rd, PHX Cowers
Went to see Prairie Home Companion at the Cricket Pavilion last night.
What a fiasco! PHX is a city that does not much embrace public transportation.
Buses run on the crowded city streets only once an hour on Saturday.
I met Ian at his home and we had a fancy lunch with his mum and sister.
Thence by bus to the venue. The bus was a half hour late so no fare was
collected; that was nice. Then we got pointed in the wrong direction by
a driver when we asked where the Pavillion was. The driver sent us to the
corner where his bus would have gone round the block. About ninety degrees
off to the north of where we wanted to be for the front gate. The venue
rises like a monolith above the surrounding ticky-tacky housing developments
but there is no sign proclaiming such. I didn't know. So we walked well
out of the way around the block to get to the gate. The bus never passed
us. Just as well we walked.
Then at the gate the security drones are inspecting bags. Ian has yet
to learn to be somewhat less than enthusiastic, a little more circumspect,
and is helping the gategoon paw through my bag. What's in these bottles?
Water in this one. Can't bring in your own water bottles. Only
sealed commercial bottles are allowed. It doesn't say that on the ticket,
nor on any of the promos for the show. And what's this? A pocket
knife. No pocket knives!
What am I suppoed to do with these things you won't permit me to bring
in? Take them back to your car. My car is miles away on the other
side of Phoenix, we came by public transportation; do you have a place
to check things? Over there--the gategoon points over my head past
the end of the queue--there is Guest Services.
It gets worse...
At Guest Services there is a line of people checking water bottles and
in some cases whole daypacks. I line my water bottles up with all the others.
What are we afraid of today? I ask. We don't know what some people may
have in their water bottles. And then I bring out my small Swiss Army
Knife in its fine leather holster that I have been carrying for twenty
some years. Oh! the guestgoon reacts as if the blade were open and
pointed at her. We can't check pocket knives, sorry.
That did it. I started frothing at the mouth. Ian was cringing and telling
me to calm down--yelled at me: STOP IT! I asked to speak to a supervisor.
Took them five minutes to work up through three layers of overgoons to
find one capable of thinking. Take it back to your car. I went through
my routine again. Frothing all the more. What kind of an operation is
this? I don't mind that you are pawing through my bag. I don't mind that
certain things are not allowed. But this is ridiculous that you are unable
to check my pocket knife!
The overgoon talked on the radio to a Supervisor and then to a SUPERvisor.
Finally as the preshow warmup is starting they agree that this time, once
only, they will check my knife--but I should know better than to bring
a knife next time.
It gets worse...
Inside at the food place(s) one can purchase a cheepsburger for six
dollars. Six! dollars... And a bottle of Arrowhead Mountain Spring Water,
one pint-8 fluid onces (710ml) is THREE DOLLARS and seventy-five cents!
I just happen to know that such water is around fifty cents a bottle by
the case so it does not sit well with me to see it being sold at 600% markup.
And to make matters worse all the twenty or so people working the food
stand are VOLUNTEERS. Its not like the exorbitant markup is going to pay
their salary or anything. Three dollars and seventy-five a bottle. No wonder
the venue won't let you bring in your own water.
Talk about right by the ...
s.
I suppose I should remark that the show was great. I will remember some
of the lines and when it comes around on reruns I will remember that I
was there amongst the applause, with my three dollar and seventy-five cent
bottle of Mountain Spring Water.
-------------------
On our way from bus stop to the venue there was an opportunity to cross
half a block of recently harvested field. Clots of dirt intermixed with
dirty rocks made walking hazardous to ones ankles. We were beginning to
be anxious about getting there on time after the bus was so late and then
Ian suggested we jog a bit. What's the difference between run and jog I
asked partly out of curiosity to see if he knew and partly cos he'd already
suggested running and I'd declined. So how about if we jog, he'd said and
took off only to stumble on one of those rocks disguised as a clot. Let's
walk, I said, we're not in that much of a hurry.
In the sketch near the beginning of the show about "The Lives of The
Cowboys" Dusty and Lefty are having their usual dialogue. Their body language,
and watching the sound effects man, requires a division of attention worthy
of a split brain personality. Dusty has been practicing a song which has
a loud WHOOP-i-ty-yi-o at the start of the chorus. At the WHOOP! Lefty
spills his beans all down the front of his shirt.
After a few of these WHOOPS--which are also causing his horse to buck
and neigh--he admonishes Dusty: --Don't you think your song could get along
with a bit of a quiet whoop?
--A quiet Whoop? Now that would be an oxymoron if there ever was one.
--You watch who you're calling a oxymoron young feller.
The programme goes on to its conclusion and we eventually get out past
the gate and head by a different route for the bus back to Ian's house.
Walking this time along the smooth verge between road and another field
Ian says: --Its smooth here; how about if we run now that we're not so
much in a hurry.
--Now that's an oxymoron if I ever heard one.
--Watch out who you're calling an oxymoron old man.
But he didn't get it! We rehashed the dialogue from the Dusty and Lefty
skit before he realised where he got the line from and then I had to define
oxymoron before it all made sense.
Gardyloo, ajo
I do not know what I may appear to the world; but to
myself I seem to have been only like a boy playing on the seashore, and
diverting myself in now and then finding a smoother pebble or a prettier
shell than ordinary, whilst the great ocean of truth lay all undiscovered
before me. --Sir Isaac Newton
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Copyright © 2003, A.J.Oxton, The Cat Drag'd Inn , 03813-0144.