Doing the Van Dance

Our rugged ride: Thor

We are thrilled at the lack of rattles from our ride, a 1985 Vanagon, with bits and spirits borrowed from others. Granted, a couple hundred miles may not be a true test of rattle worthiness. On the other hand, we are learning to accept Thor’s ability to hit 58 MPH only once in awhile. This is a tough one; there’s a hint of humiliation (well, more than a hint) when a semi truck passes you– it had to have been empty, right??

Public Announcement: we are keeping to highways, and staying off the interstates. Please do not have us in your cursing thoughts, as you power pass one of our brethren!

So far, we have established the following facts or general rules:

• Everything & anything should be in ONLY one of two spots;
• The pink lighter sucks (and a couple burned thumbs prove it);
• We can’t keep playing “OK, Now what do we do?”;
• No shoes in the van!;
• Auxiliary batteries are not reliable sources of power;
• The holes in the feet of camp chairs allow you to stake them. And, by the way, keep from blowing away;
• Creamed corn is relegated to Earthquake Survival Kits to postpone ever having to eat it; and
• Woody cooks – Hali cleans

There are other general rules that we just naturally fit in to – such as, Woody navigating, Hali packing, and Carlos. . . .he picks the trail. He’s pretty darn good at it too, spotted a couple bald eagles on our morning hike near Lake Billy Chinook.

THE Eagle! Funny irony to meet this icon now. . .