November 6, 2001
Oh, how I can dislike computers sometimes. Crashed again, dang it. Details are in Computer Woes if you want details, but bottom line is that I lost two weeks of work getting back up and running again, and all the frustration that goes with it. Fortunately, my backups are current. And we've been having some fun in the meantime.
Only in California, I'd bet. Sure was a new one on me. Spotted it in the Arden Fair mall while computer shopping. What kind of "special" treatment is coming next. MDT parking only? Fat chance.
We'd left Folsom Lake where we'd been visiting Mom Jenkins for a few days, and headed into the "wilderness" near Jackson, CA, to visit Marc, Claudia, and Rachael. That's their rigs in the background, and us parked up on the freshly graveled road. Marc is the construction super for a project going in, and free parking is the name of the game. While we were doing some wiring on the Road Abode (thanks, Marc, for making it so easy to start the generator with the remote panel in the trailer), we heard a commotion behind us. When we turned around we saw their "house" cat with a pocket gopher. The gopher had the upper hand, and was sitting up on its haunches, baring its teeth, and waving its front legs. The cat was obviously missing its meal. Marc sent Rachel off to their trailer to find the "real" cat, the one that eats rodents and is a good hunter.
Cats zero, gopher 2. Or maybe three, counting me. I took this picture after shooting a bunch of others while Rachael was getting this cat. Only it's pretty hard to take a picture of a gopher when its just bitten your shoe and is hanging on! Yep, I'd been giving it a boot out of the grass to keep it in the road while the "real" cat was on its way up. Several times the gopher would rare up on its hind legs at me, and one time when I went to gently (really!) kick it back up on the road, it latched on to me and hung on until I shook it off. When the cat arrived, it knew just what to do--charged the gopher and grabbed it behind the neck; except he (she?) then let go and got bitten himself, after which he backed down too! Tough little rodent. We elected to let it scurry off back into the grass and down the first hole it found, neither cat in pursuit (it deserved to live and tell the story to its grandkids :-). Sidesplitting fun and no real damage done to anybody. How do you like the screen room Marc & company have? We like it a lot because it's just like ours. He's going to "civilize" it by putting a wooden floor and all so the winter's rain will stay outside along with the summer's stickers.
We lost a day because of the computer trouble keeping us in the Sacramento area, and sure did hate to leave this pretty and very quiet setting. To say nothing of all the help I got from Marc. There's nothing quite like the joy of sharing time with friends. I think the 9/11 tragedy has heightened my interest in enjoying people more.
Next stop was Morgan Hill, a Thousand Trails Preserve. Plan was to visit friend John who has been such a help with my computer stuff, my sister-in-law Pat, and Barb's niece Debbie. Being in a campground after enjoying the solitude of boondocking has its advantages in spite of the proximity of other RVs. On the right is the view out "my" window where I enjoy the Laz-y-boy chair.
John has a non-mobile home in a mobile home park. And it's gorgeous. Both the park and the home. I was envious of the electronics (biggest TV I've ever seen in a home) and amazed at the landscaping he's done.
The "landscaping" John has done is mostly his beautiful waterfall, pond, and fountains. And that's just the front of the home. The back (in the lower right picture) is right on water as well. The word "gorgeous" keeps coming to mind. The rockwork in the pond was all done with small fist-sized cobblestones, and looked exquisite. And to think he's planning on fulltiming it in his motorhome. You can check him out at www.rvspirit.com.
Barb can't pass up the smell of roses any more than I can. And the traffic through a part of Santa Cruz was so slow we had a chance to get a good look at a telephone pole that has seen more than its share of posters stapled to it. Barb counted at least a bazillion rusty stables, to say nothing of the bits of paper left over.
The family plot in the historic Evergreen Cemetery in Santa Cruz is headed up by William F. Jenkins who died in 1870. I'm guessing he was my great grandfather, and died when he was 59. Not sure what the "F" stands for, but perhaps its Franklin, as that's my first name, and is the name my grandfather was know by. At his feet are a couple of markers with my dad's name on the right, and my oldest brother Charlie on the left. It's our plan that brother Bill will have his marker placed just below Charlie's. The paperwork has been done, and in 6 months or so, we should know if it happened as we hope it will.
When we drove over to visit my sister-in-law Pat (Charlie's widow), I noticed the fuel gauge misbehaving. (And please don't ask me why no pictures of Pat -- I'm ashamed of myself for forgetting my camera). It swung from totally empty to half full. Since we'd only gone about 800 miles since last fill up, I wasn't too worried about it. But when we started the engine to go home, it sounded a little "different" to this old mechanic. I could hear injectors working too hard and began to wonder about the possibility of air in the fuel lines. Just to make sure, we stopped at a station that sold automotive fuel, and at $1.85 per gallon, limited ourselves to $50 worth of fuel. Heading toward the freeway a couple of miles away, we began to feel the loss of power, and I thought we might be running on 4 cylinders instead of 6. Figured the freeway speeds would clear out any air if that was what it was.
Well, you guessed it. That monster in the picture on the left had Moby Dick with his nose in the air again. Barb took this picture as the tow-truck was backing out of the lot having just dropped us off. As soon as I hit the freeway, I knew we were in trouble, and soon the engine quit. Fortunately for us, it happened right at one of those freeway call boxes, and right at the base of a major hill. Well, guess who lives in Aptos, right near Watsonville where the truck was towed? Yup, Barb's niece Debbie, and Ralph. Since we'd planned on having dinner with them anyway, they were kind enough to pick us up at the truck shop, and not only did we enjoy an excellent dinner (Ralph is a tremendous cook), they let us use the guest bedroom for the night, as Moby Dick wouldn't be ready until mid-morning.
That's Ralph in the kitchen he re-built himself. That stove is a commercial grade rascal, and Ralph knows what to do with it. The group shot was just before we took an after dinner walk (hike) down to the beach and back. And I just noticed the camera was/is on standard time rather than daylight savings. Cheap camera anyway. I just re-set it.
There is an RV parking lot right on the beach, and the folks were all ready for the party with all kinds of effort. I couldn't pass up the witch and the full moon. Next morning, one of Debbie and Ralph's creative neighbors caught my eye. And yes, I'll confess that I'd run poor old Moby Dick out of fuel. Must have been all that generator time at Marc and Claudia's. Couldn't have been my own stupid inattention. The shop did a full check of everything, and Moby Dick came through with a clean bill of health. Harumpfh. Sure was fun to feel so welcomed by Debbie and Ralph, and kind of neat to sleep somewhere else for a night. We appreciate you guys!!
And then on the way to US 101, Barb "made" us go back so she could get some pictures of the Vesuge Farm "Pumpkin Patch" near Morgan Hill. And I'll admit I enjoyed all the stuffed scarecrows doing all kinds of weird things as well. Looked like an annual thing for the farm, and another source of revenue for them. Not shown are the thousands of orange and yellow mums that surrounded this incredible display which visitors viewed from a rail ride of some sort (the tracks surrounded the whole thing). It was a spectacular site and I wish we had better pictures.
And here's where we're sitting as I write this. Rancho Oso Thousand Trails Preserve near Santa Barbara. Met some great folks at the Saturday afternoon ice cream social, and then saw them again at the chapel service on Sunday morning. Ended up swapping stories and suggestions for several hours afterward. It's the people that make this lifestyle so enjoyable. The fact that they were rooting for the Diamondbacks to win the World Series didn't hurt our respect for them either. Dave and Kathy are at a crossroads in their life and wondering whether to full time or not, and it's always fun to share ideas with people who are considering our lifestyle. Jim and Amy are a bit younger, and have some years left to work, but are getting things in order so that they'll have the option when the time comes. I picked up some pointers myself from talking with them. The little cabins in the picture on the right is the "Frontier Village" here at the ranch. There is a portion of the place that is open to the public, and there are lots of horses being boarded here as well.
These were taken this morning on our walk. We were hoping to be able to find the wild turkeys again. The other day on our walk we came across a flock of about 20 or so, and it looked like most of them were Jakes, immature males. They were all strutting their stuff and carrying on and blocking traffic besides. Today we saw them off in the distance but too far away for pictures. Maybe tomorrow or the next day. We'll be here until the 15th. The covered wagons are actually bunk houses for the kids that come up as a part of their private school program. They learn to ride and rope and the whole works. We were around them for a while, and they all seemed like pretty clean-cut kids. One of the barns and some of the corrals are on the right. That's a bit of the typical coast range fog lifting in the background in the picture on the right, not smoke from any fires.
Well, if we're going to stare at them, I guess it's OK that they stare at us. The mountains seem to go on forever. This is the first time I've spent any time in this part of the range, and it's different than I'm used to further north. When I was a kid the folks had a cabin a couple hundred miles to the north. Trees were bigger and canyon walls steeper. Still beautiful country.
The road to the Preserve coming in off Paradise Road is kind of tight, and there are several of these convex mirrors so drivers can see what's around the bend. There are signs asking us to monitor CH 3 on our CB radios because there are several places where two RVs just won't fit side by side. And on the right, that shiny thing in the middle of the picture is the river. And Rancho Oso is on that river. At least part of it is. The whole place is on a side hill, and we huff and puff our way around it whenever we go anywhere. The laundry room is either up or down from "home," and the activities are all down from where we're parked, but the exercise is great and the views fantastic.
Did I mention these convex mirrors on this road? And yes, kiddos, on the right is a spider in the road. And I didn't let it get close enough to tear my leg off, either. It was pretty anxious to be on its way, and even gentle prodding with a stick couldn't get it into a good position for a decent picture. Tarantulas are something we're pretty familiar with, sharing their habitat as we did when we were first married and living in Foresthill, CA, not far from Auburn, CA. One night on the way home from work they were all over the highway, making Barby a little squeamish and glad to get home. Until she opened the door to get out of the car and there was one right there in the garage on her side of the car. She slid over and got out quickly on my side as I recall (boy, that's putting it mildly! Barb). We did flip this one off the road and into the weeds just as the garbage truck came around the bend; otherwise we'd have had tarantula cacciatori.
On the left are some fence-birds watching the horses eating their breakfast, and on the right is a motorhome leaving the Preserve on the road about where we flipped the spider into the weeds. This place makes me wonder how much fun brother Ken and our dad would have had here. They both loved to ride, and Ken still does an annual roundup with the neighbors there in Colville, WA. He's crazy, of course, but we love him anyway.
And there's always the wildlife. In this case it's ground squirrels on the left in the corral, and then the deer watching us watching them just around the corner from the Road Abode.
And that pretty well catches us up for now. I'll be doing some e-mail answering next, Barb is doing some number checking to keep us on budget, and then later this week we'll go play tourist and eat some split pea soup at a place highly recommended by Ilene Kirschnick, a former co-worker of Barb's.