Customer Service People.......

One more blog post about blowing a tire on the RV on the interstate when I was all alone (there...does that invoke sympathy?), and then I'm done with that topic. I promise. And while some of this involves complaining (it IS me, after all), I am truly, truly grateful for the response and the assistance I received. Truly. But there were some iffy moments.

When I got the RV to the side of the interstate, the first person I called was Hubby. Oddly enough, I was NOT crying. I was actually pretty calm.

"I need some advice," I told him. I explained what had happened, then I provided my own advice. "I think our RV insurance policy includes roadside assistance. Shall I call them?"

Hubby's first question was whether or not the tire blowing caused me to lose control. I didn't point out that if that had been the case, I would have been telling him about an ACCIDENT rather than a flat tire. But that's neither here nor there.

Miraculously, I knew where the insurance card for the RV was because I had JUST PUT IT IN THERE THE DAY BEFORE I LEFT. I called the number on the card and proceeded to get A) the option to continue in Espanol; and B) a seemingly endless menu of choices of buttons to push. Keep in mind that my hands were shaking violently, and an iPhone doesn't respond well to sweaty fingers. It took several tries for each number.

When I finally got a real person on the phone, she said she would redirect me to roadside assistance. Then the line went dead.

I had to call back and repeat the entire process, but at least this time I knew to ask for roadside assistance. I got a very nice young woman on the phone and explained what had happened. I emphasized that I was alone, hoping that might create a sense of urgency for her that was at least a fraction of my own. (Here's a project for you: Next time you go on a trip of any length, note all the RVs out there. Count how many of them are driven by women.)

I still held my insurance card in my hand like it was a lifeline. So I knew the answers to most of her questions.

"Year?" 2003
"Make?" Four Winds
"Model?" 5000
"Color?" White

I realize she was just filling out information on a computer, but if she had my policy in front of her (shouldn't she have?), should she not also have that information readily available? And WHAT COLOR? Is that really pertinent to whether or not I get my tire changed?

"Length?" 30 feet (It's actually 29, but I rounded up just in case that was as important as the color white.)

I don't remember exactly when, but sometime in the middle of these questions, she asked, "Is this a motorcycle?"

Sure, it's a motorcycle 30 feet long. And that bad boy is a bitch when it comes to cornering.

"NO, IT'S A MOTOR HOME."

Then she asked me, "How tall is it?"

I should have known that one, since I knew we couldn't drive it through a covered bridge at one of the state parks. But I couldn't pull the information off the hard drive that is my brain.

"I don't know, I'm sorry," I said.

"Can you just give me an estimate?" she persisted.

Again, I realize that asking those questions is part of her job. But if the answer is "I don't know," then asking the question another way isn't going to help.

"Is it taller than 20 feet?" she asked.

HELL NO it isn't taller than 20 feet. Does she realize that's roughly the equivalent of a two-story building?

It was getting hotter and hotter in the RV, and my hands were still shaking. Hell, the RV itself was shaking every time a tractor-trailer went by. And I was well off the road.

She knew I was getting frustrated, but she still asked, "How much does it weigh?"

"I don't know."

"Can you just give me an estimate? Is it 20,000 pounds?" (Personally I think she has a thing for the number 20.)

I can almost forgive her for the question, because at that point we thought I didn't have a spare (I crawled underneath the RV on the side of the interstate while we were conversing and discovered to my great relief that we DID have a spare), and she thought she was going to have to send a tow truck.

At that point, however, she had access to every single piece of information that I had. And she had the Internet at her fingertips. Why didn't she Google how much a 30-foot 2003 Four Winds 5000 RV weighs?

I was still patting myself vigorously on the back for knowing that I was three miles north of Exit 47, which I gleaned from the "Where Am I?" feature on my GPS. (Rozmo had asked me what was the last exit I passed, and I had no clue. Does anyone keep track of that?) But I failed the pop quiz because I didn't know the weight of my RV. That was the only time I cried, I swear. She also asked if I knew the rim size of the tires, at which point I almost burst into maniacal gales of laughter.

Okay, I'm finished complaining, and I really shouldn't be nitpicking at all. I got the help I needed, and life as we know it has not been compromised at all. I do, however, have a couple of suggestions. And I would offer them to the insurance company itself, if not for the fact that they called me WHILE THE MAN WAS STILL CHANGING MY TIRE and wanted my feedback on my service call. I didn't even blame them for the fact that I had to wait about an hour and a half, NOR for their mistake when they told the service guy that I was on I-85 NORTH.

If I DID have the chance to give them some feedback, though, I think I would make the following suggestions:

• If someone is calling because of an accident or needs assistance, have a way for that person to go straight to a living, breathing human being. Choosing from one of the following six menu options is not how I handle a crisis.
• In this computer age, have access to some of the generic information like how much a certain RV weighs. Or at least allow an "I don't know" answer and proceed to the next question. Whose answer I probably won't know either.
• Give it a day or two before you ask for my feedback. If the crisis is STILL IN PROGRESS, it's likely you don't want to hear my comments.

There. I'm done. I'll shelve this one. Cheer up - it's only 78 days until the college gymnastics season begins.

I Almost Woke Up Dead.....

I didn't write about an additional crisis I suffered through this past glorious weekend, A) because I didn't want to taint a wonderful cycling experience with so much MORE negativism; and B) it's a tad embarrassing that I almost killed myself in my sleep.

After the horror of the trip down to Columbus for Georgia BikeFest (and I only realized later that the title of my blog post was just this side of stupid), Rozmo and I had a wonderful dinner in a lovely Thai restaurant, and I tried to stop mourning the fact that we didn't get to ride our bikes that day. I was grateful to have had the tire replaced, the gas line repaired, and arrived at BikeFest in time for registration. And dinner. Mostly dinner.

I invited Rozmo to stay with me in the RV, but she loves tent camping when the weather is nice, and she had a nice spot right next to the Chattahoochee River. We agreed on a time to meet the next morning, and we retired to our separate "tents." I fired up the generator on the RV so I would have electricity (no hook-ups when we are in a parking lot, sadly), put in my earplugs (not only is my generator kind of loud, but I was parked right next to some ungodly monstrosity that would have drowned out an invading army), and went to sleep.

After I had been asleep about an hour, I was awakened by a shrill, piercing noise. Even through my earplugs, it startled me awake, and my heart pounded. There was a moment of that I-just-woke-up-and-I'm-slightly-incoherent confusion, then I realized the sound I was hearing was the carbon monoxide alarm. In my RV.

I turned on a light to look at the panel. It said a green light was okay, a flashing red light was a medium warning, and a solid red light was a high warning. The very tiny print read that if the light was red and solid, I should seek fresh air and call 9-1-1.

It was a very solid red. And screaming bloody murder.

I didn't really know what to do. The alarm has malfunctioned before (!), but that was when we were NOT running the generator. The generator runs off gasoline, just like the motor. And it has an exhaust pipe. Just like a car. Just like people die from all the time, either intentionally or otherwise.

I got up and walked around outside, but the alarm kept going off intermittently. I didn't want to wake my fellow cyclists/campers, so I finally shut off the generator and opened the windows. Opening the windows may be the smartest thing I have EVER done. Not having the generator meant I wouldn't have my CPAP machine to sleep, but I had slept for years without it, so I figured I would just suffer through the night. It's not like my snoring would disturb anyone, not with that godawful machine next to me roaring all night.

I started thinking, "My head hurts just a little bit." And then I wondered if my head REALLY hurt, or if it was the power of suggestion. If there was enough carbon monoxide to set off the alarm, then I guess it's possible there was enough to cause a headache. 

I sat up for a while playing a stupid video game, terrified to go to sleep. I have been known to ignore car alarms and fire alarms, but I don't mess around with deadly odorless gases. Finally I went back to the bedroom area and looked at the light again, and it was green. I reluctantly went to bed and slept very fitfully.

The next morning I cranked the generator again, only to make coffee, and I mentioned the situation to one of my fellow cyclists/RV campers. (I love both of those groups of people, because we always take care of each other.) He came over and looked at the exhaust pipe, and it wasn't where it should have been. It was SORT OF sticking out from underneath the RV, but it wasn't STRAIGHT out like it should be. There is a clamp to keep it in place, but it was broken. I don't know if that also happened when the tire blew, or if it has been that way for a while and we just didn't know it. He pulled on the pipe for me (I could have done it myself the night before, but it was hot) and straightened it out. I was relieved but still a bit wary.

With the exhaust pipe in place, the fumes were blowing more straight out from the RV, and the alarm didn't go off anymore. I'm more grateful than I can say that we had an alarm and that it worked. When I told the story to Hubby on the phone, he said he was going to disconnect it when I got home because there was obviously something wrong with it. (He was just rattling my cage.)

After the ordeal was all over, I nearly drove myself crazy with the "what ifs."

What if the alarm hadn't worked?
What if (I don't know how, but what if) I hadn't heard the alarm?
What if Rozmo had come over the next morning and I hadn't responded?
What if someone had seen me with that CPAP mask on my face?

How long would it have taken for them to realize I hadn't merely overslept?
How would they have gotten into the RV? (One of the few times I've remembered to lock the doors, probably because I was alone.)
Who would have called Hubby?
Would he have wanted to leave the golf course?

WHO WOULD HAVE TAKEN MY MOTHER-IN-LAW FOR HER TREATMENTS?????

Whew.

Riding 100 miles on my bicycle was nothing compared to the trauma I went through just to get the weekend started.

I'm glad it turned out like it did. What an embarrassing way to die. 

BikeFest Sunday.....

I would like to break up the monotony of words with a few photos from today's ride, but sadly I didn't take any. Not one photograph. I'm an abject failure as a cyclist/photographer.

The Sunday ride on a 3-day weekend ride is sort of a weird thing. We approach it more casually, maybe because it's the last day. We think of it as "only a 40-mile ride," but maybe that's because it's so much shorter than the 100 miles we rode yesterday. There aren't many times I would leave home and say I'm "only" going to ride 40 miles. Some people might tell me, as I told Rita yesterday, that "only" and "40 miles" don't belong in the same sentence. Oddly enough, we ride at a more relaxed pace, even though most of us are already packed up and ready to go home.

Today's route began and ended on the beautiful Riverwalk. It's so pretty, winding along next to the river and seeing the fishing boats out early in the morning. We also went to Fort Benning, where we had to produce a photo i.d. to get back ON the base. We had already BEEN there and had ridden past it to get to a rest stop, and we had to produce i.d. to get back ON. Huh? How can one get on the fort at one point and then leave it, only to have to identify oneself to get back to where you were in the first place? (I apologize for the poor pronoun reference in the preceding sentence. I'm too tired to be my usual grammatically perfect self.)

I was hoping Rozmo wouldn't notice that our total mileage for the weekend was going to be 193 miles. I just knew she would insist we ride an additional 7 miles, and while that wouldn't have been debilitating, I was ready to go home. And I wanted to get on the road before the Falcons kicked off so I could A) listen to the game; and B) get through Atlanta before the game ended, since I would be driving the RV almost right by the stadium. When she DID realize it, though, she didn't even mention wanting to "round up" our mileage to 200. Whew. I think she was ready to go home too.

That's likely our last multi-day ride for this year. I would love to do the North Florida Tour again (first weekend in November), but only if they can guarantee I won't nearly freeze to death this time. But it conflicts with football anyway, so I'm not even entertaining the idea.

Even with all the crises (and I haven't even written about one of them yet, because I didn't want it to sound like I was looking for things to go wrong), it was a good weekend. But I'm glad to be home. As always.

Sometimes Blog Posts Sound Like Gunshots.......

.....and sometimes it's just the sound of Fate (or Karma, or whatever you want to call it) slapping her knee in DELIGHT at our audacity to think we are in control of things.

Let me back up a minute and explain.

I am in the town of Columbus, Georgia, right next to the Alabama border (I can literally throw a rock into Alabama, if I can get it across the river) for Georgia BikeFest. It's one of the two weekend cycling events sponsored by BRAG, three days of cycling without having to decamp every morning. It is a beautiful spot right here by the river, and I remember standing in this parking lot last year and saying (maybe smugly, maybe not), "Next year I'll be retired, and I'll be the first one here, and I'll get whatever RV spot I damn well please."

Ahem.

It is rare that I take the RV anywhere by myself. Either Hubby or Katydid is usually with me, but Hubby doesn't DO cycling events at all, and Katydid couldn't come this year for a number of reasons. But I've become (more) comfortable driving the RV, and it was only roughly a three-hour trip, so I wasn't worried. Driving through downtown Atlanta has its challenges, but once you've driven an RV through Chicago, you're prepared for anything! I just told myself I would take it easy, not get in a rush, stay in the far right lane as much as possible, and not stress.

That plan worked beautifully, until I heard the gunshot.

Wait, before I tell you about the gunshot, I have to tell you something I found hilarious, but I won't drag it out forever. When I was just south of Atlanta, I called Rozmo to let her know I had left earlier than I had planned, and if she wanted to ride some today, I would be there. She said she had left LATER than she meant to, and she was just then at Flat Shoals Road. I looked up at the next overpass and said, "Huh? Me too." Then I looked in my side mirror and saw her coming up behind me. She forgot I was in the RV, so she didn't realize who it was she was about to pass. I thought that was hilarious, that I would choose to call her at the exact same moment we were at the same exact spot on the interstate.

Then I heard the gunshot. Well, it wasn't an actual gunshot, and I recognized it immediately for what it was, but I don't know HOW I recognized it, since I'd never heard it before. It was the sound of a tire blowing out. On the RV. On I-85. It's amazing how well the human brain adapts to challenging situations. As soon as I heard the sound, I immediately turned on the flashers (I don't even know how I knew where they were) and headed for the shoulder of the road. I got way, way, way off the side of the road, and even then the RV shook every time one of those tractor trailer rigs blew by. It was a little unnerving, to say the least.

I won't bore you with all the details, but I called the insurance company with whom the RV is insured, and who provide roadside assistance. At first I thought I didn't have a spare (that might teach me to listen to Hubby, but probably not), and she said the RV would have to be towed. Then I discovered I DID have a spare, and she said someone would come change it for me. Now I'm not a wimp and I do know how to change a flat tire, but I've never tried to raise an RV with a jack, and the RV has dual wheels on the rear. Naturally the tire that blew was the INSIDE one. Which means removing TWO wheels. Sheesh.

I had to wait about an hour and a half, so I spent the time reading on my iPad. Finally a very, VERY nice young man arrived, and he was completely unfazed by having to lie down on the side of the road with 18-wheelers whizzing by only inches (okay, feet) from his head. Yes, the flat had to happen on THAT side of the RV as well.

I was astounded at how quickly he was able to get the tire changed, but then he called me over and pointed. "There's some damage here," he said.

Uh oh. The exploding tire had torn the fuel line away from the "neck," the place where you put fuel in. It wasn't leaking, but there would be no way to put more gas in the RV because it would just pour onto the ground.

Great. My weekend just went to hell. On a bullet train.

But then he said I could take it to their shop (and assured me the RV was safe to drive), about 40 miles away but still on my way to Columbus, and they could fix it today. He couldn't RECOMMEND their shop, because that would be soliciting business, and I was welcome to take it somewhere else if I wanted to.

Seriously? I'm gonna drive an RV around some town I'm not familiar with and hope I happen on a repair shop that can replace a hose on an RV? No, your shop will be just fine.

Hubby texted me when I was on the way and said for me to ask how much it was going to cost, then take it somewhere else if it was a "crazy amount." See above hypothetical question, Hubby.

The kind young man followed me down the interstate for about 20 miles, poking along at the speed I felt safe driving, which was just below what I would have been able to do on my bike. (That might be a slight exaggeration.) I got teary-eyed when I realized he was hanging back there. Then he disappeared (he never passed me, so I assume he had to go on another call and exited the interstate) and my tears dried up.

The people at the automotive shop were VERY friendly (could it have anything to do with the fact that it is owned by a woman? hmmmmm?), and they got me back on the road. I got here in time to register and pick up my packet, and if I didn't get the very best RV spot, at least I got one, and if I didn't get to ride my bike today, I'll have three days of riding, and I am very thankful that today's incident didn't turn out any worse than it did.

I could have been driving much faster (I was about 10 below the posted speed limit). The tire could have blown when I was in the middle of downtown Atlanta. I could have been surrounded by cars on both sides. It could have been one of the front tires, which probably would have caused an accident. Perhaps even a rollover.

But I'm here, Rozmo and I have had dinner (wonderful Thai food), and I don't have to move the RV again until Sunday.

Probably the best news of all is that Hubby feels terribly, terribly guilty because he knew the tires needed to be replaced soon and was putting it off.

No telling what I might get out of this.

Tee. Hee.

It's Finally Here.....

I don't remember when I signed up to do SAGBRAW, a bike ride in Wisconsin, but I know it was before the first price increase... Wait, I just found my confirmation printout. I registered for this ride last November. I've been looking forward to this ride for 8 months, and it's finally here.

Originally Rozmo and I were going to go, split the driving, and use the "indoor camping" option (sleeping on air mattresses in gyms). Then Hubby spoke up and volunteered to drive the RV (he really, really did volunteer, whether he remembers it that way or not), eliminating the need for two middle-aged women to sleep on gym floors. Score.

Then Rozmo had to cancel, and it never crossed my mind to do so. I've ridden before in rides where I didn't know anyone else there, and it doesn't bother me. Hubby still planned to go, and then we found out that unlike on BRAG, we can't run the generator at night because of the noise. Since the generator provides the electricity I need for my CPAP machine, and I've grown fond of breathing, I thought we were going to have to change our plans.

What we decided to do, though, is to camp at nearby campgrounds instead of staying at the schools with the other riders. While that will take me away from the camaraderie associated with cross-state bike rides of 1000 people or more, since I don't know any of them anyway, I won't let that bother me. The SAGBRAW folks are kind enough to publish GPS routes beforehand, so I've been able to upload them, edit them so that I end up at the chosen campground for the night instead of the school, and save them to my GPS. In some cases it means I shorten the day's route by a few miles, but then I have to tack it on to the next day's ride, so it all evens out. I think.

I have a sort of hare-brained idea of how to ride in as many new states as possible on the way TO Wisconsin, and Hubby is actually going along with it. I'll provide the details for that only if it comes to fruition. There's a chance I'll chicken out, but that's not really in my nature.

I'm a little nervous, having never done this ride before. Also, I've never combined the two entities of riding my bike for a week AND camping in the RV with Hubby and Gus. As a matter of fact, we've never been anywhere in the RV for a whole week. I keep saying to Hubby, "I don't cook when I'm on a bike ride." I envision a lot of sandwiches in our future for next week.

We're heading out very early in the morning, and I THINK everything is ready. I need to pack up the computer, though, so it's time to call it quits for tonight. Expect another week full of blog posts about cycling, and I hope they won't bore you to death.

I'm An A.D.D. Camper......

I am in the RV, alone, about an hour and fifteen minutes from home, for a bike ride. It's the same one I did last year, and if you weren't around and are curious, you can read about Saturday's ride here and Sunday's ride here.

I am in the parking lot of the YMCA, where the ride is based. I am NOT where I planned to be, in a shady campground on the lake with electricity and running water and satellite t.v. And I'm almost, ALMOST over the fact that I am NOT in a shady campground on the lake with electricity and running water and satellite t.v. I won't burden you with the boring details. At least our RV has a generator, so I have air conditioning, and I hope the two older gentlemen in the older RV WITHOUT a generator were joking when they asked if they could hook theirs up to my generator, because I laughed and walked...ran away.

And see, I'm so A.D.D. that I had already forgotten why I titled this post as such.

Please forgive me for using that term and don't send me hate comments, because I am NOT making fun of people who are truly A.D.D.

I have discovered that when I travel in the RV, particularly when I travel alone, I bring a variety of things to keep me occupied. And then I feel that I have to do them ALL. So I have played a game or two on my iPad, I read (a tiny bit), I have checked the message boards and blogs and Facebook on the computer, I have crocheted some (but not enough) on the afghan that MUST be finished before NashBash in 15 days, and I'm listening to the MP3 player I keep in my computer bag and rarely, rarely ever use. And checking in on the baseball game when I get an alert that someone has scored. So far the only scoring has been done by the Washington Nationals, and the Braves are on a four-game losing streak, thank you very much, and that can't be good for my blood pressure the night before a ride that is sure to wind up being close to 70 miles.

Anyway.

I have two or three dozen other activities to cram into my evening before I hit the sack. I will report on the ride tomorrow.

Chattahoochee Bend State Park.....

Hubby and I are "roughing" it in the RV at our state's newest state park. It's only about 2 hours from home, approximately an hour south of Atlanta.

It's a gorgeous park with most of the amenities anyone would need. Well, if the amenities people need involve mostly getting away from everything, this is the perfect place. We have no cell service, and I don't mean spotty service, I mean ZERO. That's not altogether a bad thing, since my internet connect card works. If I had no internet AND no cell service, I might be twitching like Hubby was yesterday when we realized we had left the remote control for the satellite receiver at home and might not have television. (As usual, I figured it out and saved the day. Possibly the trip. Potentially the marriage.)

RV camping is "ruff" on a dog. I have an entire folder of pictures of Gus in this same position.

Each campground section has a lovely bathhouse with clean restrooms and showers. I prefer to shower in the RV because I don't like hauling everything to the bathhouse, but if we didn't have the RV shower it would be nice to have the facilities nearby. There is a nice playground (where I have been to swing on the swings twice today, once with my great-niece and great-nephew, who live nearby and came to visit), and the camping sites are level, clean, paved, perfectly spaced, and aesthetically pleasing.

Before we came here, I mapped out a 20-mile bike ride loop from the campground using a computer program. After we were inside the park, however, I realized I could likely ride 20 miles and never leave the park. Shortly after that I realized I had left my cycling shoes at home, so a ride of any length was in question. When we arrived yesterday, there was a sign on the visitors' center door that no one was on duty, so we should check in with the campground host, choose a campsite, and come back to the visitors' center today before 11:00 AM to register and pay.

The visitors' center is two miles from our campground, so I rode my bike up there this morning. It was a struggle because I didn't have the proper shoes, and my pedals are so small it's hard to keep my feet on them wearing tennis shoes. (My cycling shoes are cleated and clip into the pedals. I call them "suicide pedals," but they work.) In addition, the terrain inside the park is hilly. VERY hilly. I rode the two miles to the visitors' center, then the additional mile back to the main gate, then on to the road where we turned off to get to the park, which was just under 4.5 miles. Then (of course) I rode back, so what I hoped would be a 20-mile ride today was only just under 9 miles, but the best I could do without proper shoes. (Note to self: Put your extra pair of cycling shoes in the RV and leave them there. Thank you.)

Hubby and I took a little hike along the river this morning. The park ranger had told him about an observation tower from which we could see "a lot of the river." It was about a mile to the tower, and we enjoyed the walk, but the tower was a bit of a letdown. We could have seen just as much from the top of our RV. It was a VERY NICE tower, but it wasn't exactly what I would call a tower. The trails going through the woods are well marked and very scenic. I could have walked forever. But then I would have had to walk back, and since forever would have been gone... I don't have any idea how to finish that.

On the top level of the observation tower. I like the benches made out of trees.

It's very quiet here. The park has been open less than a year, and there were only two other campsites occupied when we got here yesterday. A few more have been occupied today, but it is still very quiet and peaceful. I will hate to leave here in the morning, but the rest of Spring Break is full of events. Besides, two nights in one place away from home is about all I can get out of Hubby.

Chattahoochee River

Stay tuned for our trip to Wisconsin late this summer. Surely he knows that is going to take more than two days...

Not How a Cold is Supposed to Act......

This has been the strangest cold I've had in recent memory.

Wait... It's been the ONLY cold I've had in recent memory. So I guess I shouldn't complain too much.

Typically when I get a cold, it starts in my sinuses then settles in my chest. Sometimes (but thankfully rarely) it becomes bronchitis.

This time the tightness started in my chest, THEN progressed to coughing, THEN the sniffles and sneezing started yesterday. I felt the worst yesterday morning, and if it had been a school day, I probably wouldn't have gone. It was a FOOTBALL SATURDAY, though, so of course I went to the game.

We had already made plans to spend the night, since the game was over after dark, and some of those RV tailgaters just set their chairs and stuff up right in the middle of the driving lanes, oblivious of the fact that SOME PEOPLE might not want to make an ENTIRE WEEKEND of the event.

It was a miserable night, though. The noise of the generator, which usually doesn't bother me, almost drove me insane. I couldn't breathe because of my cold, and I almost woke Hubby up to tell him let's just go home. It must have been around 11:00. When I woke up again I was convinced it MUST be time to get up, and I stumbled to the living room part of the RV to look at my cell phone. It was 2:17.

Good. Lord.

We did manage to doze back off, thankfully, and it was just breaking daylight when we woke up the next time. I was never so glad in my life to come home. I love the RV and usually I'm just as happy sleeping in it as I am my own bed at home, but I guess because I felt rotten anyway, I wanted to be in my real bedroom.

I was unable to blog last night due to crappy internet service. I didn't even bother taking the laptop, since it hasn't worked where we tailgate, and while I could get TO my blog on my iPhone, I couldn't get to the part where it said "New Post."

I apologize that I made you wait a whole day for me to regale you with tales of mucus, sniffling, sneezing, wheezing, and whining.

You're welcome.

On a happy note, the ballgame was a thriller. Not a thriller in that it was competitive, but it was a huge win, and I'll take a lopsided victory over a heart-stopping one almost any day. The win means that if we can manage a win next week over lowly not very competitive SEC opponent Kentucky, we will go back to Atlanta for the SEC Championship game on December 3rd.

I can just hear you now. "Oh yay. More football talk. Goody."

But cheer up. It's only 47 more days until I start babbling incoherently about college gymnastics.

What a Relief.......

Temperatures here in the sweltering South have been much milder these past two days, with highs in the 80's as opposed to the 90's. It was raining both this morning and yesterday morning when we got up, and we desperately need the rain. Yesterday it finally quit raining, but it stayed overcast for most of the day. It was a PERFECT day for riding my bike in the summertime.

So I sat inside and watched the British Open (which isn't really called the British Open anymore, but the Open Championship, which I think sounds pretty pretentious, but hey.... it's England!) and crocheted all day. I finished the baby afghan for Sweet Girl's friend, and I just realized I packed it and mailed it without so much as taking a picture of it. Arrrrgggghhhhhh!!!!! I have since started working on some placemats that I intend to put in the auction at our family reunion next year. Somebody better buy them.... I don't like the colors.

Today I ran a bazillion errands, mostly related to the RV trip to the beach (we're leaving tomorrow morning). When I got home, I told myself I couldn't possibly let two perfect riding days go to waste, so I called a halt to the errands and went for a bike ride. It was only 26 miles, but it beat sitting in the house. I rode some of my usual routes, then wandered around streets of town that I haven't ridden on before, and I wound up at the golf course so I could ride home with Hubby.

I'm excited about the trip, but not the seven-hour drive.

Jumping to Convulsions.......

Before I make a futile attempt to explain the title of this post, let me answer the question from last night's post that I'm SURE has cost each of you dear readers a decent night's sleep.

First, though, let me try to explain why I have so many pairs of athletic shoes. When I first buy a pair (I always buy the "walking" shoes, as if they could be meant for anything else), they are too nice to take an actual WALK in. Those are the ones I wear to school with jeans or khakis, or for Saturday night dinner out with Hubby. After a while they get too grungy to wear to school, so they become my walk-in-the-park shoes. When they get too broken down to wear for 3-mile walks, they become the shoes I wear to mow the lawn. (Hubby heard me tell someone this on the phone, and he guffawed -- GUFFAWED -- at the concept of me mowing the lawn.)

Therefore I typically have 3 pairs of sneakers/athletic shoes in circulation at the same time. The step that's missing here is giving one pair away (or throwing it away, if it's in really bad condition) when I buy a new one. That's how this happens.

So Frogger and DJan, your guesses were almost on the money. The correct answer, 12, falls between both your guesses. You have each won the pair of shoes of your choice in the photo above. Oh wait.... I already sent them to goodwill. Sorry! You might not even wear a size 7. Or 7 1/2.

Now for the title of the post. Hubby has many endearing expressions, and some day I hope to compile them all and devote an entire blog post to them. One of my favorites is "jumping to convulsions," meaning someone (hypothetically speaking it could be anyone, but this time it was me) has gone into panic mode before checking things out thoroughly. And only barely escaped looking foolish.

We took the RV back to the service center this week because the air conditioner that we just paid over $300 to get fixed didn't work last weekend. Well it sort of worked.... only when I tried to adjust the thermostat, the generator bogged down and almost quit. Oh yeah, and there may or may not have been a spark. Or two.

When we took it on Tuesday, Hubby nicely explained to the service guy that we absolutely HAD to have it back by Thursday. Sure enough, it was ready today (miracles DO happen). And they didn't charge us a penny, not even labor (see above regarding miracles). I asked Hubby, "Would it be rude to check to see if it works before we leave?"

He said we would check it at home, and never mind the 16-mile drive in a vehicle that gets 8 miles to the gallon. I should have waited until he was out of the parking lot, because he had me drive the RV home. When we got home, I fired up the generator and turned on the air.

Nada. Zilch. No.Thing.

To my (little bit of) credit, I didn't go nuts like I wanted to. I also didn't pick up the phone and call the RV place and give them a piece of my mind. I also didn't say to Hubby, "I TOLD YOU we should check it before we got out of the parking lot."

I did tell him the unfortunate news that none of the air conditioner's settings worked. I was in the process of plugging the electricicals (name that character and t.v. series) up to see if it worked off electricity, not that it would do us ANY good on BRAG next week, where we won't have hook-ups and will have to rely on the generator.

That was when I realized the service folks hadn't plugged the electricical thingie back into itself, which is required in order for the generator to produce electricicals.

Oops.

At least Hubby was the only witness to my jumping to convulsions.

I celebrated by leaving home at 6:00 PM on an 18-mile bike ride. NOT by beginning the process of packing for a week-long bicycle trip that begins in approximately 36 hours.

And don't y'all go jumping to convulsions that I won't be ready either.

Thumb Blogging.......

Blogging with my thumbs tonight, so it will probably be a short one. You're welcome. I'm on a bike ride, and my laptop is in rehab. I'm about 67 miles from home, and I drove right past my mom's (and brother's) house on the way. In fact, I'm on the SAME road, just about 15 miles from them. So even though the ride doesn't start until tomorrow, when I got here today I jumped on my bike and rode to mom's. I visited for a while, then my brother brought me back. Good thing, since it was getting dark.

Katydid didn't get to come this weekend, and I miss her. But I understand completely. Rozmo will ride tomorrow and Sunday, but her folks live nearby, so she is staying with them.

I don't eat out alone, so I made some pasta salad to bring with me. I never make pasta salad the same way. I throw in a little of this, a little of that. Suffice it to say that I could probably supply every rider here with pasta salad.

Forgive me for any wonky formatting. This is a tiny platform for blogging. Please, laptop, get well soon.

Getting Rougher......

Some trips just turn out like this. Don't get me wrong, it hasn't been a BAD trip, and I've had plenty of time both to relax and to do the things I want to do. We've just had a few ..... glitches.

I was driving when we got here yesterday, and as I turned into the state park, the brake pedal went all the way to the floor. The brake line was broken, and we had to get a mechanic to come to the park and repair it to the tune of $363. It could have been so much worse, however, if it had happened on I-75 when someone slammed on brakes in front of us. Or when Katydid and I were on the way home from Spring Tune-Up.

There was the t.v. catastrophe yesterday.

It got warm enough this afternoon to turn on the air conditioner, so we did. Only it didn't work. Blows air, but doesn't cool. Again, it could have been much worse (in my opinion) if we hadn't discovered that until we were on BRAG. At least here it isn't blazing hot, and we've got time to get it repaired before BRAG.

Gus knocked Hubby's glasses off (mainly because they were where they SHOULDN'T have been), and Hubby stepped on them.

The water pressure in this park is non-existent. There's plenty of it, just not a strong enough stream to take a shower. I went to the bathhouse, insulted because I have to use the same facility as the commoners (ha ha ha ha ha ha), and there was no pressure there either. I did manage to get clean, though.

It's getting harder and harder to convince Hubby to go out West.

On a positive note, Gus and I went for a 1.85 mile walk/run this morning, and I didn't die. Hubby suggested we ride the bikes, and he was finished after 3 miles. We came back to the RV, but then I left on my own to do another 7. Riding that (cheap) mountain bike with knobby tires is much harder than riding my smooth-as-silk road bike (whom I've named Jezebel).

I wasn't wearing proper biking clothes (read: padded shorts) or a helmet (so sue me), so I didn't venture too far away from the campground. I took a serious nap afterward.

Yes, I realize the map makes it look like a drunk went crazy with a crayon.




This is a beautiful park, though. Facilities are very nice, there is a HUGE swimming pool, a marina with a restaurant, and loads of campsites. It isn't crowded, so it has been a lot like having the place to ourselves.

Maybe Hubby will bump his head enough someday to get a severe case of amnesia, and we can come back here. He doesn't believe in going the same place twice when there are so many other places in the world to visit.

"Roughing It" Again......

Hubby and I are "camping" in Tennessee for a couple of nights. I needed a new sticker on the door of the RV, and two nights is about all I can get him away from home. I don't know how we will ever see the Grand Canyon.

The concept of "roughing it" has certainly changed. Hubby is on the phone with one of his buddies, I'm on the internet, we're listening to the radio, and we would be watching television except the flat screen fell off the top "bunk" and is destroyed. Let me tell you about a billion times how happy I am that I am not the one who set the t.v. up there. I got the satellite working (again), and we were both outside when we heard the crash. Therefore it is in no way my fault. I don't care if we watch t.v. or not anyway. Our DVR will record Dancing with the Stars, and I just MAY get to watch it later this week. Hubby said something about working around the house toward the end of the week. Somehow I pictured riding my bike while he played golf for the last few days of my spring break. Not cleaning the gutters (my job ever since he fell off a ladder in 2001) or organizing the storage building.

I had just fixed myself a bloody mary when the t.v. crashed inside the RV. I rushed to set my drink on the picnic table, but it fell off and spilled. I decided that was a sign I wasn't supposed to have one, so I drank water with dinner.

Hubby has a hard time just relaxing. Me? I can sit and do nothing with the best of them. Well, not really nothing.... I brought a Kindle, an iPad, a laptop, a Nintendo DS, my (crappy) knitting. I can keep myself busy even when I'm roughing it.

Camping Trip.....

Just a few photos to document our latest trip in the RV.

This state park is only about 25 miles from our house. It is a beautiful place, complete with horseback trails and a golf course. Katydid and I stayed there in the RV last spring when the spring bicycle ride was in a nearby town. I didn't realize it was once a national park and was turned over to the state of Georgia in 1946.

Maybe it's only because it's Christmas time, but I was fascinated by the combination of the red berries and the shiny green leaves on this tree. Gus and I were exploring while Hubby went into the Trading Post.

It's hard to see, but there appears to be a tree growing out of this rock. We hiked a couple of miles through the woods.

This park's trails were well marked, and there were many bridges. They had numbered markers indicating interesting features of the landscape.

I don't know what's up with this tree. I don't know if it is riddled with insect damage or if it is diseased. And I didn't have the heart to tell Hubby I didn't want him in the picture.

The path we walked was called "Beaverdam Pond." We didn't see any beavers or dam, but we did see the pond. And this little stream.

Gus thinks he knows the way just because we allow him off the leash. There were only 7 occupied campsites in the whole park, so we figured it was safe to allow him to walk through the woods untethered.

Hubby's texting doesn't stop just because we are hiking through the woods.

Gus is saying, "Come ON, Dad. Can't you text those yo-yos later?"

I found this .... plant? .... interesting. It's not easy to find pretty foliage to photograph in December, even in a state park.

This was likely our last RV trip until the spring. If it were up to me, we would go somewhere every weekend. Well maybe one weekend a month. I don't know why Hubby is reluctant to go in cold weather. We have a VERY nice heater, proven by the fact that I was sitting around sweating yesterday. It was nice to get out in the crisp air and take a long walk yesterday.

It was so refreshing that after we got home this morning, I went to our OWN state park (I consider it ours because it's only half a mile from our house, and we go there several times a week to walk) and took a walk by myself. No dogs, no Hubby, just me and my MP3 player. The water in the lake is still very low, but it's coming back very slowly.

Two weeks from today I will be in a warm place..............

Cantankerous Intrrnet......

We are camping about 25 miles from home, but we may as well be in the middle of nowhere. My lovely connect card for the laptop doesn't pick up sufficiently for me to do my blog for tonight, so I'm typing with my thumbs on my iPhone. So don't talk to ME about "roughing it". These are hard times.

Other than the lack of Internet, it's just like being at home. We have taken a walk, eaten a couple of snacks with meals in between, watched football, Hubby has napped, and I have played Nintendo. Oh, and Hubby has it 115 degrees in here.

I am about three-quarters of the way through Grisham's latest book. And I already know it can't end like I want it to. I've cried twice already and I'm not at the end. I am a big fan of Grisham. Hubby stopped reading him because he says all his books are the same, but I beg to differ.

One more week of my virtual job. I'm not sorry I quit, but I'm really going to miss those kids.

Weather is supposed to turn bitter tomorrow. My cycling goal might be in jeopardy if we don't get some warm days.

Camping is Hard Work.......

We got the mountain bikes out today and started off through the woods. Poor Hubby, it was his first experience riding over rocks and roots, between trees, and around curves too sharp to negotiate. Plus he had the same problem with his bicycle seat that I had on my first mountain biking expedition, so many curse words ensued. [Note: He wasn't particularly sympathetic when it was MY seat that kept flying up for no apparent reason. Never mind that I don't have the body parts it kept offending on HIM.]

When we returned to the campsite, Hubby parked his bike (after calling it a few more choice words), and I took off on mine again. I wanted to make a couple more loops around the campsite, since it is paved and makes for nice riding. I have to confess, though, that I left the bicycle helmets at home. And I still rode. **Gasp**!!! I even violated the speed limit when we rode down to the little country store at the park entrance. The posted speed limit is 25 mph, and I was going 27.7.

I thought that would be the end of our physical activity for the day, and it would have been fine if it had been. But around 3:00 Hubby suggested we go for a hike on some of the same trails we had traversed this morning, and I was happy to go along. Gus was allowed to go with us this time, and he behaved perfectly. He trotted ahead of us on the trail, looking back every now and then as if to tell us he knew the way.

We head home tomorrow. I'm trying to get Hubby to work up to trips longer than just two nights. But for now I'll take what I can get.

I thought the Georgia hat on a flamingo was a nice touch.

I fell in love with this bridge. In typical fashion, Hubby commented "I pity the fool who had to tote the logs to build this bridge." Or something to that effect.

Something about the randomness of being out in the wilderness and seeing a box full of rocks.

This is an indication of how exhausted the Gusman was when we returned from our walk. He didn't even want to exert the energy necessary to jump up in the chair.

The tiki lamps and flamingos were a gift from Lawanda the Warrior Princess. Note that we have to build a fire in the daylight, because by the time it gets dark, we are asleep.

 

 

Campsite #37......

I can relate to campsite #37.

When Hubby and I checked in today, the girl in the office assigned us campsite number 37. She said if we didn't want that one, we could choose any open campsite and then call them to tell them which one we chose.

All of the campsites in this campground are gorgeous. They are paved, which means we track much less dirt and leaves and junk into the RV. We are in the (sort of) mountains of northern Alabama, and autumn has made a sudden appearance. It was a beautiful day, just like yesterday at home.

Campsite #37 was fine. It was just slightly uphill, though, and our RV doesn't have levelers. We looked across the little road and saw another site that was perfectly level. There were lots of open sites, so we moved over to campsite #49.

All through the afternoon and evening, we saw several RVs come through, searching for a suitable site. One HUGE rig made three laps around the loop we are in, evidently a lot pickier than we are. I have no idea where they finally landed.

Several pulled through campsite #37 and then left. I began to feel sorry for #37.

It reminds me of middle school and choosing teams during PE. I was campsite #37. People didn't pick me until I was the only one left.

I'm sorry we didn't stay, campsite #37. I know exactly how you feel.

Campsite #37 finally has occupants. I hope they have a wonderful time.

I hope to have pictures tomorrow. I didn't have my priorities in order today. Can you say "bloody mary"?