An Otherwise Shitty Weekend

It was definitely a shitty weekend. The valve on my black water sewage holding tank had closed shut. No one would fix it in situ because of the heat and tourist season.  Because of an obvious design flaw when these valves crap out, if they crap out in the closed position ,there is no way to get the crap out in the normal way. Further, when the old valve is to be removed, there is necessarily going to be some spillage before the new valve can be installed.
My friend Tom had siphoned out the tank through toilet itself.  This procedure caused an evacuation of our sweet neighbour next to us. Who would have known she had a severe respiratory condition?One whiff and apparently she turned purple and blue wheezing,choking and coughing. Tom was very apologetic. The ambulance crew was friendly enough.  That was just a whiff portend of the future.  Birds flying over died in flight  but suddenly came alive again on the ground as zombie birds that attacked  children and small animals.  The park management hinted that it would be best if l solved my leakage problem elsewhere.  There are no "Depends" for RV’s.
The last time I moved the RV was a couple of years ago when I caused such damage that it was in the shop a couple of months.  I love my Keystone Energy RV and felt such guilt for catching her slide on that nasty cement wall as I turned just a little too tightly around that very inconsiderate corner.
When we hit the highway, naturally there were high winds.  The trailer began fishtailing just like my first trailer did before it did that 360 turn  on the freeway taking us with it  before flopping over dead in the ditch and pulling my new Ranger truck into the grave with it .  Laura had been screaming "We're going to die! We're going to die!" and I hadn't thought so since I'd crashed other vehicles at higher speeds and lived through those.  Laura wasn't nearly as experienced with high speed crashing before she met me but that trailer truck event really moved her along.
Both trailer and truck were write offs . I was very thankful for having bought the best insurance.  It turned out that the second hand trailer had  been sold to me with a faulty brake system and I was exonerated for once.  That's when I began buying trailers from Travelhome and have ever been thankful. When this trailer began fish tailing I slowed right down happy that the brakes were working at very least.
I pulled into Travel Home RV in Abbotsford.   As is my normal response,  I was considering trading the trailer in for a 5th wheel.  Thankfully they had no fifth wheel toy hauler in stock.  I might have stayed married in the past if there'd been no trade ins in stock.
What they did have and suggested was a better hitch.  Again I might have stayed married one of the times if some one had suggested such an original idea.  Keeps the wife. Get a better hitch!. They really are the best at Travel Home.   For less than a $1000 I had a 4th way state of the art hitch for a much heavier trailer installed while we waited.  What a difference!  No more fish tailing and no more lurching.  No more shame about having overloaded my trailer either.
Heading up to the Coquahalla is when the truck died. It didn't suddenly die.  It just suddenly lost power.  An evil wrench icon in the Hal computer communication window flashed on saying the truck was now in the possession of the truck safety police and would only 'limp' home.   It did this once before and it was a manufacturer gasget glych in this model and year of F350 Fords. The dealer was terrific and rebuilt the engine all on warranty. The truck'sbeen a trooper for the last 50,000 km until it’s been kibitzing about these last couple of weekends. Tom volunteered  to take it to a Diesel sub-specialist who charges more than neuro surgeons. It was supposed to be perfect after they do a mechanic's voodoo dance and replaced a random part of the turbo charger.   I asked Tom if he'd checked whether the fellow voted Justin Trudeau before letting him work on my very conservative Harley Davidson edition truck.
At 60 km/hr  we made it almost to Princeton, way out  in the boonies.  We pulled off the highway at  a place where it looked like others had been dumping a variety of shit. We hoped our discharge would be minor..  The tank was sucked clean but apparently, according to the instructions, you’re not supposed to leave your valve open  for long sits because solid collects and the wet  flows over.  We thought there might be some kind of crystalline science fiction monster lurking still.
Tom got under the truck. He’d come equipped with overalls but I noticed he used my wrenches. I didn’t mind.  I was literally catatonic with the thought of reacquaintance with my own shit of perhaps 2 years previous.  What would we  say to each other? What was the etiquette? I shone the light on matter.  There were only 2 nuts that needed removing, not a particularly reassuring thought.
Tom opened the pipe and yes there was a gushing moment, that adolescent instant of blushing release. It wasn’t a whole lot in terms of sludge but the odour was noteworthy.  The paint on the RV peeled and nearby trees wilted.  Squirrels developed rasping voices.
While Tom was swiftly putting in the new valve,  more birds fell from the sky.  Much to our amazement little creatures and insects descended en mass on the  discrete effluence, this purified treated and conditioned human waste.  I’d added all manner of enzyme and  RV treatment to it  hoping that might help appease the pouting valve..  These little creatures r began instantly consuming this exotic substance and instead of dying took on hulk like Lilliputian appearance of Olympic Russian athletes,  their little bodies steroidally swelling before our eyes.
We both washed. excessively, after the event. I had only been in splash range but no amount of soap and water seemed enough.  I was glad for the shower.  I did shit in the now functional toilet. I very much enjoyed this important throne moment in the privacy of my home. If I was Justin Trudeau I suppose I would have taken a selfie but the thought never crossed my mind.
Neither of us had much appetite after the experience.  We did feed Gilbert well if only to discourage him from his French tendency to ‘mange de merde’.  Half poodle, half cocker spaniel, we blame his rude behaviours on the French side of his nature.
That night with the RV generator supplying electricity we watched a black and white film of the Tobruk defence in WWII starring a very young Richard Burton.  Tom and I felt that in our own way we had brought the RV through a long and shitty siege and prevailed despite overwhelming odds.
 It was great to awake in the wilderness having my very own toilet to relieve myself at, no longer fearing overflow.
Tom, of course, got to use the facilities too but Gilbert was left to the outdoors.  As a connoisseur of butts we thought the previous night’s experience with the RV  would have raised his appreciation for the Keystone Energy, in his doggie mind.
Given the trip was downhill the truck engine gave little trouble on the way home. Tom amazingly parked the RV without doing major damage. I really thought that was very good of him.  He’s planning on getting the truck back to the guys to find out why it was still acting so shitty.
Now that he's gone, I think I’ll just sit on the throne.  It's not that I need to go but it feels so good.

Saturday Morning and the RV Holding Tank

I awoke this morning to a picture sent by Kevin at 7 am of the cutest little munchkin god kid Kendra, hands and face all covered in blueberry jam.  Gilbert thanked Kevin immediately seeing this as his opportunity to dive in with dog kisses and squirmy body.
“Since I’m awake,  I might as well take you for a walk,” I said to Gilbert.  “Yes, yes, yes, yes!” tail wagging body happy thoughts.
I dressed.  Gilbert bolted out the door. I caught up with his leash.  He swatted down the lane right next to the waste bin. I picked up this present and deposited then took him back to the trailer. I meanwhile walked to the club house where I used the facilities.  My own have been plugged for weeks.
I’ve taken this as a metaphor. I see this as reflecting my relationship with God.  Somehow my life is so full of shit I can’t let the light of joy and heaven in. I have to get rid of the shit.  I’ve called various people. All the leaders in the field. The plumbing and septic system and waste folk are all flummoxed. There’s a broken valve and if anyone attempts to fix it in the park there will be waste overflow.  We have to take it to a place where the waste leakage will not stink up the neighbours in this otherwise lovely heat.
Tom has volunteered to help.  He even bought the valve replacement. Now he’s on his way to assist me moving my RV to the country.  We’re going to spend the night in the deep woods and replace the valve.  Out in the country we expect to find a place where we can have the RV on an angle so the shit in the tank is least likely to overflow when we removed the jammed valve.  It’s a design flaw. I am certain thousands of others have encountered this problem and there are videos on you tube about replacing the valve.  But there’s did not freeze shut. Open it’s a non issue.  The tank is emptied and the valve is replaced but closed is another story.
Most people do not ‘live aboard’ their RV’s or at least are not encumbered as I am with so much ‘shit’.  The metaphor here is that I have to ‘lighten up’.  I have a need for better organization. I have a couple of activities that I do each season and literally since last year I’ve not moved the activities of one season to the storage locker as is the plan.  I’ve got last years hunting clothing and this summer’s camping gear and all my work gear and my sports and reading material and writing projects and some of the boating gear all here. My garage which is supposed to be empty so I can load my Harley or my Honda 500 Pioneer is knee deep in suitcases and guitars and motorcycle gear.
It was the same when I lived on my sailboat. The sailboat without all the clothing associated with work and some of the other activities was just perfect for travelling and crossing oceans.  This RV is the same. I really think it’s the perfect RV for a cross country trip or for hunting trips to the north.  If I’d just get the stuff to the storage locker I’d be okay.  However the storage locker is next to the boat and this RV is on the other side of the city.  The change of one part in a whole requires the reworking of the entire system.
I have had to put netting and hooks for bungees up to make this RV more mobile.  When I’m just using it for a hunting trip it’s not a big deal because I can lessen the land and stow things but now there’s simply no room for things to be stored.
I’m full of shit. It’s really temping to consider a bigger unit. I’ve had my eye on the fifth wheels for a long time. The advantage there is better separation of bedroom with the laundry facility, more storage room, not that much more but more and better space in kitchen with counter space.  I really don’t have counter space here.
But that’s the ‘2 foot itis of ‘boat world.”  For years I wanted a slightly bigger boat. Yet my yacht is big enough. Just like this RV. If I wasn’t working all the time  and my storage locker was nearer and more convenient or I was simply better organized all would be well.  I do miss having a cleaning lady too.
I just think of all the pictures and things that will fall when we actually take this baby on the road. It’s been too long entrenched. My sailboat was perfect with everything properly stowed and the boat in working order after about of a week of travelling down the coast.  if I was on the road for a week the same would hold for this RV.  It’s just not moved since 2 years ago when I tore the slide parking at the end of the last moose hunting trip when I returned so tired late at night and worried about getting up to work the next day.  It was a guaranteed disaster, the kind of thing we learned on the sailboat.  Better to wait till morning than go into a harbour late at night in poor conditions.  The same held true for this RV Park. It’s a bitch to park in. The tightest parking one will ever encounter with a motor home.  Just like some of the docking scenarios that I encountered early but now seem relatively doable.  It’s a steep learning curve with these big machines.  My yacht is 13 tons.  Docking involved wind, current, and inertia.  The RV is just an issue of watching out for 4 sides on turning and backing up. There’s no wind or current by comparison.
It’s all overwhelming.
I’m thankful for Tom’s company.  With guys it’s always good to have another person to lighten the load.  All over this park there are couples with  one person who does the driving and another who gets out and watches as an extra set of eyes to lessen the likelihood of crash. On the boat it’s the one person who steps off and ties a line to the dock to hold the boat.
I’ve done these things alone but I sure do appreciate the help.
Today the inertia is with me.  I’ve had coffee but I’d really like to just lie on the couch and read a novel. The thought of all the moving parts of hooking up this trailer and driving out of the park and then heading up the road towing tons of home is simply overwhelming.
I phoned Tom at 8 am and said we’d plan with breakfast first. White Spot.  More coffee and more mobility.  Then it will happen.
We want to take the RV up north this fall for hunting simply because it’s going to get cold soon. Tenting is fun but not in the cold.  This RV is the perfect set up.  It can go on logging roads and backwoods but we really need to know where we’re going and where we’re going to set up.  The problem with a trailer is you don’t want to get stuck because backing up is a royal hassle.  A nightmare if it’s any distance.  And certainly something you don’t want to be doing on a mountain road.  We have however found a small paved trailer car park near where we want to hunt so plan to take the trailer there and then drive the truck with ATV the 10 miles back to the hunting area.  Laura will be coming along and will like the luxury whereas Tom and I and Gilbert will rather enjoy coming back to warmth and comfort of our RV home.  I like the showers.
Now I’m going to enjoy the shitter working again.
I also know that it’s not going to be a much of a mess as I fear.  But I’d love a cleaning lady.  There will be stuff falling to the floor and I really need to get this place better organized. I do miss my cleaning lady.  It’s been a couple of months since I spent a day going through this place and really cleaning it.
I could do stuff now while I’m waiting for Tom but I’m going wait till I’m driven by having another person waiting on me and me dashing about putting dishes in sinks and bathrtumbs and such so they won’t fly about.
I’m inspired now. I think I’ll shave and shower. Then I think I’ll put the coffee on for another cup.  I’ve got to get myself in the zone to address this RV move and shitter restore equation.
It’s times like this I understand why guys never get past the couch.  I did years with the highest tech being a canoe and bicycle. The car was something . But there were mechanics and I ever learned mechanics for the maintenance of my bug. That’s when it began.  I learned the mechanics for the bug and then it was downhill from there.  Having the yacht required me to learning plumbing.  I fixed the plumbing and replaced the toilet on that boat a dozen times. Diesel mechanics courses and courses on radio and radar and electronics and bigger and bigger trucks and bigger and bigger RV’s.  Now I’m 21st century and looking longingly back on the days when I had only a pup tent a canoe and an old car that carried me and my canoe bicycle and tent.  I sometimes think that retirement will be a lessening until I am back there.  It’s one thing to have never had the Harley Davidson and another to know it’s joy and then return to the simpler cheaper less complicated bicycle. I’m not there yet and love this RV for instance when it’s working. It’s rocket science.  It’s unbelievable.  But when these high end items go wrong they sure are complicated. There’s a simple joy in Walden Pond.
We talk a lot about the simplest sailing system off shore.  All the accessories can and will go wrong so there’s a die hard group that don’t have GPS , radar or autopilots and remain luddite and safe. Like the AK47 ….a truly dependable rifle.  I’ve got the semi auto Ruger and it does jam whereas my old bolt action rifle is so simple and dependable.
Then there’s the whole world of leasing and renting.  Let some one else maintain things.  Ownership is over rated.  Hotel living at it’s finest.  Maids.  Car to Go.  There’s a lot to be said for that. I’ve given up on home ownership roof repair, plumbing costs and yard maintenance and all the other things that went with owning homes. Mostly I got tired of losing the investment because my partner and I were not able to maintain our relationship so the home became a burden and I lost my shirt every time.  I lack the fundamental ‘entitlement’ that others seem to have. I also lack the ‘spite’. I just want it over and I’ve found myself paying through the teeth just to get away from the abuse and anger.  The most beautiful people can be the most ugly .  I don’t like neighbours who are psychopaths like the guy who almost killed my cat stealing my power after I went to work and by doing so triggering the shut off on the heater.  For weeks I’d come home to a shivering cat . Then I found out this Vancouver psychopath was waiting for me to go to work so he could unplug my electricity and run it into his home to save himself the money of winter heating.  In a civilized country I’d able to get recompense but in Canada it was best to move away.  I like my mobility.  Without police protection or legal support of the working man and the government considering the middle class solely a tax grab, tis best to be able to move . If I had a home today I’d want a gated community.  I understand Trump wanting to build a wall. I laughed to see the huge wall around Clinton’s place. I remember liking the barred windows and walls in the Mexican haciendas. We’re getting that way here. Even in this park if anything is left not locked down thieves range through at night and steal.  Bicycles are forever going missing in Vancouver. It’s famous for the level of bicycle theft. Probably the highest in the world.  More and more heroin and more and more theft.
Of well, time to shave and prepare for the a shitty day.