Lazy days at Village Creek

We passed several peaceful, restful days at Village Creek State Park outside of Lumberton. The washrooms were well heated, totally tiled, with lots of hot water, and few other patrons, so we were able to do all of our laundry “a la Lucy.” There’s a great old “I love Lucy” episode when they travel to Italy, and she gets involved in a spontaneous grape stomping competition, full peasant skirt hoisted high, up to her red stained knees in a grape vat. Donna’s developed a clothes washing technique in the shower, where while you’re washing yourself, you’re also “agitating” your laundry by stomping them on the shower stall floor. I haven’t witnessed all of her finer nuances, in order to fully master “the Lucy method;” so for myself, I found using one of our round plastic tubs set on the seat in the handicapped shower stall, and using the old hand washing and wringing action, worked well. So by early morning of the first day, we had clotheslines strung from the trees, and all of our clothes clean and drying in the Texas sun. When we added the dawg tied to the picnic table, the dish pans and two days dishes spread above her, and all of our bins scattered about as we rearranged things and shifted to slightly warmer weather wardrobe, we soon were a full bore example of modern RV trailer trash. Laughingly quoting a phrase Donna and her good friend Audrey coined years ago, we agreed “the slum moves on.” Fortunately, within hours the chores were done; the clothes dry, folded and smelling sweet; the van repacked; and we were again cleverly disguised as a normal, everyday, middle class couple on holiday…ha!

While Dixie and I explored the trails around the park, watching the mist rise off the creek; Donna rested and tried to get her back in line and less painful, and also discovered some interesting neighbors. One was a guy who we thought somewhat geeky when we saw him the night before, who was actually on a wonderful adventure. Having been discouraged by all the gloom and doom that bombards us in the daily newscasts, he decided to bicycle around the US, and write a blog about all the good things, and good people, he discovers. In addition to being inspired by his efforts, Donna learned about the state of the art in accessible, modern wireless technology. Through a package from Verizon, he has a high tech smart phone, that includes a 4 megabyte camera and video recorder, that automatically connected to a notebook computer that is available for about $200, that’s always on line via the Verizon cell phone satellites. You write your blog, take a picture on your phone, and zap, wherever you get phone service, you can instantly post it, photos and all. We feel like dinosaurs with our Canadian cell phones, roaming charges, and computer that we need to find a wireless signal in order to access the internet. Will says that Verizon has great coverage, and once they get the iPhones in another year or so, they’ll blow AT&T right out of the water. The only problem is this all is part of a two year contract, that for people part time in the USA like ourselves, makes the pro-rated monthly costs prohibitive. Why, oh when, will Verizon crack the border, and help reduce Canadian cell phone charges down from the highest in the world. Anyway, check him out on WillsOnWheels.blogspot.com.

We also met a guy and his young son camping in a little “tear drop” camper he had built himself. He found it a bit small, but his four year old son thought it a perfect size. He figures he’ll try to sell it, and then make a slightly bigger, better version next. More power to him. We also didn’t get to meet the two couples in the big fifth wheels who pulled in next to us on the second day; because once they arrived, slowly backed in and painfully set-up, they retired to the great indoors, never to be seen again outside in the 24 hours we were parked next to each other. Once again, why do these people go to all the trouble to recreate everything they have at home, move it all to the country, and then watch it out their windows during the commercials on their TV’s? And they snicker and think we’re crazy…ha! again. The final neighbor we did not officially meet, and who helped us make our decision to move on, pulled his old trailer into a spot across from us, late in the afternoon of our second day. Later that evening, a babysitter drove up and delivered his young daughter to the campsite, and he entertained the young tot by a campfire lightshow. With a beer in one hand, and a plastic bottle of fire starter fluid in the other, he made the flames bellow up with a guffaw and squeeze of one hand. The little girl was thrilled, and danced around the leaping flames, as he continued his magic for almost twenty minutes. Thankfully he finally ran out of gas. We breathed a sigh of relief, when we no longer had to be ready to charge across the street to put out the flames on one, or both of them; but also had to face the reality that the whole campground reeked of burning petroleum. It wasn’t until well into the night that we could reopen our windows and finally get some eventually fresh air. But all in all, it was a great stop in a very pleasant little campground, well run and well maintained by the friendly staff. They also helped us with a problem that developed the second day.

As I was driving back from the library and grocery shopping, I noticed that the red “AMP” idiot light was on, and the gauge showing the battery charge level was lower than normal. The car was running all right, so I returned to camp, had Donna stash the perishables from the store, and asked the Rangers who they might recommend. Without a hesitation, both people at the desk said “Fred’s Automotive,” back in town, just past the library. It was almost five, so I quickly headed back out, and found the shop, with the sign out front. Inside, the guy at the desk wore a shirt that said “Chad’s Auto” on one side, with “Chad” embroidered over the pocket on the other side. He gladly explained that Fred was getting quite old, and he himself had been the main mechanic here for years. So when Fred decided to hang up the wrenches, he figured it was better to work for himself, rather than find another job. So he bought the business. Same mechanics, same business, same sign, just a different name on the shirts and invoices. It was a lot like our shop back home, Hubley Motors, where Art’s the owner and does some of the dirty work, and all of the paperwork, with another mechanic or two working the never ending stream of folks needing an honest mechanic who does good work at a fair price. Chad heard my problems, figured it was the alternator, did a load test to confirm that it wasn’t charging, and then went on line to see if the needed part was available. He said if I could come back the next morning, when they had finished the work left over from that day, he see what he could do to get us back on the road. I returned the next morning and settled in with the dawg. There was no way to easily get back and forth to the campground, so we made ourselves at home, set up the computer, and got to know Chad and his business a bit better. Like Art, he made time for folks who needed advice more than work, took on testing out a used car for folks before they signed the deal, gave a quote to an out of town person who was having trouble on the road, away from home, like we were, and still made sure the scheduled work was getting finished. He was laid back, friendly, and very efficient. By about ten, Donnie, the other mechanic, was free to start working on our car. We followed him out back, while he pulled into the work bay, open on two sides to the great outdoors. It was well covered with a large roof and one wall to protect the area from most of the elements, but it was still surprising to realize that we were down south, and open air garages were quite common, and actually more pleasant to work in most months of the year. Donnie and I had a great conversation about all sorts of stuff, as I watched and helped as he did a full check, confirmed the initial diagnosis, then proceeded to take out the old , and install a new alternator and belt. I remembered there was a stripped bolt on the air cleaner cover, so he also freed that up, found a very dirty filter, and replaced that too. 90 minutes later, we were ready to roll. Because I offered cash, he didn’t charge tax since we were “out of state,” and knocked an additional five percent of the parts and labour. So what could have been a real hassle turned into quite an enjoyable experience. Dixie and I both made some new friends, I learned more about the vehicle and life in Texas, and the van was ready to go at a price that was even lower than the first very reasonable quote. So if you’re ever north of Beaumont, and need a good mechanic, go find Chad. He’ll do ya right.

Donna was happily surprised when I returned to camp even sooner than expected, and having more money left in our wallet than anticipated. We also still had time to leave before the 1:00 o’clock check out time, so we hooked up the trailer, said goodbye and thanks to the Rangers, and decided to head south, to see if we could find warmer weather.