Movin' on down, Movin' on down the road

This morning Concetta and I arose to a wonderfully bright and clear morning in southwestern Colorado. The air was cool, but not so cool it required a jacket to be outside working on the RV. Of course, last night was a different story. 'Bout froze before we went and retrieved the comforter off the floor where it had fallen from the bed. Even with all the windows closed, we couldn't keep out the Rockie Mountain fall air, which is giving us fair warning of coming winter temperatures.

The camp last night, if you've been keeping up with the blog, is one we stumbled upon when we really didn't have any idea where we were going to tether for the night. It was sort of isolated and forlorn without any proximity to a city or even a small town. Most of the camp sites were empty, save the ones being occupied by full-time residents. I think only one other camper checked in for the evening, a nice old guy who had his sights set on the local "white-rump" antelope for his winter dietary needs. We had a nice chat while I was out wandering the grounds looking for promising photo ops.

But the thing I liked best about the isolated camp was, in fact, its isolation (see photo above right). I don't think I heard so much as a twig snap the whole time we were camped there. We were far enough from the highway to muffle those sounds, and all the permanent residents appeared to be off somewhere, at least I never saw one of them. The grandeur of the view was breathtaking. Only a distant arm of the Rockies, way to the west, and the endless sky full of fluffy white cotton gave you something to focus on. Otherwise, it was just miles and miles of sage and rabbit brush, framed by the pines and aspens of the RV park itself, as far as the eye could see. Like John said, "Almost heaven." Certainly better than our KOA tonight in Grand Junction where the barking of a myriad of yappy dogs is about to make me nutty.

We lingered longer over coffee this morning since we didn't anticipate stopping for any cultural activities today. All we had to do was make Grand Junction by a reasonable hour and the KOA would probably have a space for us. Actually, I'm glad we were just motoring, for the scenery today was perhaps the best we've seen on this trip. I know I keep saying that about every place we visit, but today we had the colossal mass of the Rockies to cross -- some of it at 35 mph. Naturally, since we had lots of time to enjoy the scenery we just sat back and marveled at the sweep of oranges and reds of the aspens through the deep green of the fir forests, the reds and creams, and oranges of the sandstone roadcuts, and, above everything, the wondrous vault of the sky filed with fluffy white clouds. It was just achingly beautiful.

Much of what we covered today seemed to be forests in transition. Little by little the aspens seem to be taking over from the conifer forest, probably due to fires and bark beetle infections. I'm always amused by the talk of protecting the forests in their "natural state" since their natural state has been ever-changing since the beginning of time.

The one "chore" we set out for ourselves today was to find a beautiful, unspoiled aspen grove where no other humans had taken up residence and stage our photo for the annual Christmas card cover (see above photo). This we did, though the steep and rutted dirt road I followed to reach said unspoiled photo spot had Concetta sitting on the edge of her seat at times.

We arrived in the town of Gunnison just about lunch time. As we cruised into the eastern edge of town the first thing my eyes fell on was a display consisting of a very early narrow gauge Denver and Rio Grande locomotive and string of freight cars. Attached to the train display was a large museum building surrounded by grounds full of all kinds of antique equipment. I rubbed my hands together. This was going to be a very GOOD lunch stop. So it was that I could hardly wait to finish lunch and dash across the highway to the promised land. This we did only to find out that the museum had closed for the winter...YESTERDAY!Now that was just not fair. It was so hot in Gunnison today that we were both in t-shirts, but the museum was closed for the winter. Sadder but wiser, we glumly walked back across the highway and, a short time later, motored out of town without trying to scare up any other form of amusement.

For the rest of the day we just enjoyed the scenery. I would have "enjoyed" it more if I could have taken more photos, but very few highway shoulders have sufficient space to park an RV, even temporarily. So, we just had to let all the magnificent vistas drift by the windows while we oohed and aahed from the comfort of our Captain's chairs.

You tend to think about a lot of things while you're motoring for hundreds of miles at a stretch. Of course most of the time we have a book on the CD player cranking away with what have proven to be some pretty riveting tales. But, when we're not listening to one of our favorite authors, I often think about how I could improve this type of adventure for next time, at least logistically speaking.

Take the drive-up blocks, the things you use to level the coach fore and aft so the refrigerator will be happy. Taking as my guide some battered hunks of wood I found in one of the "basement" compartments of the Tioga, I crafted a set of drive up blocks using some 2"x8"x8' lumber that had been treated against moisture. To construct a drive-up block I cut the 2"x8"x8' lumber into three pieces. I cut one at 48",one at 32", and the last at 16". Then I beveled one edge of each piece at a 45 degree angle. Once that was done, I stacked the three pieces one on top of the other with the shortest on top and the ninety-degree, unbeveled edges all lined up at one end. This resulted in a stair-step affair. Once all three pieces were screw-nailed together, I added a strong strap handle on the side of the longest piece at the balance point of the finished ramp. The handle allowed me to pick up the ramp with one hand which keeps my hands cleaner. You've probably already figured out that each step left a 16" area on which the tire could rest, which is all the room you need. And each ascension to the next higher level adds 1 1/2".

These ramps have worked splendidly. The only problem I've discovered is that when I have to put the rear of the coach on the ramps instead of the front, I really need four ramps for the four rear tires. I tried balancing the rear on just two, one on each side, engaging only one of the dual wheels. But that made me nervous that putting all the weight of the rear of the coach on one tire per side might actually damage the tire. So, for next trip, (you knew there had to be a point to this, right?) I'm going to construct a couple of two stage ramps, which will be shorter than the three-stage ramps by sixteen inches. This will make them easier to store. The shorter ones will easily fit in one of the smaller lockers.

The reason I've determined that I won't need four of the four-foot sized ramps is that normally when you have to level fore and aft, you really need different sizes left to right. Since that's true most often, I can just put the shorter ramps on the uphill side of the rear and the longer ramps on the downhill side of the rear, thus maintaining level both fore and aft AND left to right.

Now, if you followed all that, you probably should go buy yourself an RV 'cuz you're already in the groove.