Week 10 of hiatus

Sunday, 7 to Saturday, 13 June 2020

I'm once again posting on a Saturday because I'm once again planning to travel, again leaving tomorrow, a Sunday.  At Cleburne State Park, where I stayed from Sunday until Wednesday of last week, I had no phone signal, no signal for my hot spot, and the park's wifi signal was too weak for my computer to do any more than note it existed.  In other words, I was completely out of touch with the world for 3 days.  So in case this week's state park is in a similar non-signal zone, I'm posting now.

Last week
I ran into a little problem when I tried to leave my parking spot at David and Anna's house to go to the campground.  I couldn't get my awning to retract.  In fact, I couldn't get it to even acknowledge that I was pushing the button - not a sound, not a grunt, not a flicker of movement.  I didn't have much choice about leaving since you can't get into a state campground in Texas these days without an advance reservation - no more walk-ins - so I'd already paid for 3 nights there.  But I sure couldn't drive down the highway with the awning hanging out.

I called David, who came right over, checked my fuses and said the fuse looked fine but it looked like the fuse wasn't getting any power.  We went online and learned that the awning can be retracted "manually" with a power drill (and a ladder to reach the right place).  David's knee is still bunged-up, and we all know how I feel about heights, so Anna came out to do the ladder-climbing and drilling.  And it worked.  The awning got retracted and I got on the road, and I have no idea whether my relatives were glad to have me gone or glad to have me livening things up on a constant basis with bizarre requests.

Cleburne State Park is a very pleasant park.  The section I stayed in is called Cedar Grove camping area, named for the large number of old cedars in the area.  The air smelled like cedar, a smell I've always loved.  Of course, because I went almost entirely to have access to air conditioning, I rarely smelled it.  Only when I walked the dogs, and one morning when it was cool enough to turn off the machine for a while.  I'm pretty certain the temp never got up to the 100°+ that was forecast, but it was still warm enough for me to be glad of artificial coolness.

I'm sorry I didn't get any photos.  I kept thinking about it when I was walking the dogs, and not remembering when I was near the camera.  There were lots of Cardinals, which was nice.  A coven of vultures hangs out near the small lake every morning.  Very odd to see them the first time, because they're so big and dark and were sitting on the picnic tables and things.

I know there are lots of deer, though we didn't see any.  I know because several times Dexter and Gracie alerted on places where deer would reasonably congregate, and I know because when I first checked in the park ranger begged me to drive slowly; she said somebody recently didn't drive slowly and killed a fawn.  She said the mother is still looking for it.  So sad.  But I counted myself very lucky that I wasn't having to cope with dogs that were actually seeing deer, not just smelling them or sensing them or whatever they were doing.

Area driving
In my valiant efforts to avoid toll roads (no easy task in Texas), I ended up going to Cleburne by traveling through central Dallas, complete with traffic.  Texas drivers are just plain rude.  They're impatient and pushy and speed up to keep me from changing into their lane and honk if somebody doesn't move the instant the traffic light changes color and speed and push their luck at intersections ... and so forth.  Honestly, I miss the drivers from up north.

I ran into all that not only going to and from Cleburne, but also going to and from the RV repair place where I've been spending so much money lately.  I went to see how many expensive parts they'd have to order to fix my awning, and learned the answer was zero because there's nothing wrong with it.

Turns out many RVs (or maybe all of them, but mine for sure) have a kind of failsafe circuit that says when the engine's turned on, the awning is inoperable.  The theory goes, according to Alex, the mechanic who's been so helpful to me, that they wanted to guard against the possibility that someone might fall on the switch or drop something that hit the switch while the RV was in motion.  If the awning isn't folded up tight against the RV, I imagine it could cause several kinds of severe and expensive damage.  That failsafe circuit went into play for me because I'd turned on the engine so I could start the AC for the critters so when I closed up the windows and skylights they wouldn't suffer heat prostration while I finished getting everything ready to go. 

That's the first time I've done that, and I won't be doing it again without winding up the awning first.  But it was really nice of the repair shop to not charge me to have Alex spend time looking at it and telling me I don't have a problem.  So to spend money there anyway, I ordered a cap to replace the one that's missing; the cap covers the gears that make the awning work and Anna had already pointed out to me that the gears needed lubricating.  Alex lubricated them and said that cap keeps them from getting gunked up by exposure to the elements. 

I passed large fields of tall corn everywhere I went.  I hadn't realized Texas produced so much corn.

I passed by the town of Midlothian to and from Cleburne and was surprised to see so much commercial activity.  I've now learned that it's more than doubled its population in the last 20 years, now up past 20,000, and is home to 3 major cement production facilities and a steel mill.  Unless all those industries have been automated, they must account for almost every person of working age in town.  Gerdau owns the steel mill; it claims to be the 2nd largest producer of structural steel products in North America; they say they turn scrap into new steel products, such as the steel used to build bridges and football stadiums.  Nearby is Qualico Steel Co. which says it specializes in medium to heavy industrial and commercial products.

Weather 
Since I've been back in my accustomed parking spot, the temp has been in the low to mid-90s, and getting down into the upper 60s at night.  The critters and I can just about make it at that range.  But I've now checked 4 different weather services (and gotten 4 different predictions) but they all agree we'll be going back up into the upper 90s beginning on either Sunday or Monday of next week, with lows in the mid 70s at night.  That's really pushing it for the dogs.  Lily doesn't care for it much but seems to be able to handle it.  And I'm right there with her.  But the dogs seem beyond uncomfortable at those temps, so I'm going to do this again.

Next week
This time we're going to Cedar Hill State Park, which we actually passed on our way to Cleburne last week.  Cedar Hill is a much larger campground, though they too say they're operating at only 50% capacity, and I've been able to find a space that looks on the map like we have a chance of staying away from other folks.  I'll just have to see how it goes.

By the way, I've discovered a real drawback to camping in Texas state parks: here, they charge a daily entrance fee to the park, even if you're camping there, and even if you don't budge an inch once you're there.  Not many other states do that, so I find it irritating that the state I was born in is one of the few chintzy ones.

Plans
Being without outside stimulation last week, I read a lot and thought a lot.  One of the things I thought was how much I wanted to get back on the road, and how depressing I found marking time, which is the way hanging around here is starting to feel.

Then I got back to the land of wifi connectibility and learned that Dallas County has been having nonstop days of increasing cases and deaths from the coronavirus.  What's more, both New Mexico and Arizona - the 2 states I planned to travel to - are seeing the number of cases increasing by 40%.  That's a lot.  A whole lot more than I can ignore.

I feel pretty confident these numbers are the result of several factors: (1) they all seem to be increasing the number of tests they're giving; (2) it's been more than 2 weeks since the Memorial Day weekend when vast numbers of people acted like idiots (my opinion); (3) it's also been more than a week since the protests began over George Floyd's ghastly death and the equally ghastly racial inequities in our country; (4) part of those protests has been the police response which, in many places, has included tear gas and pepper spray and other substances intended to make people cough and get teary-eyed, items the CDC says likely contribute to the spread of the virus; (5) people are tired of the restrictions that've been imposed, such as face masks and staying at home; (6) many people regard following these restrictions as playing into the hands of the "far-left Democrats who are trying to bring down Pres. Trump" so are unwilling to wear masks and actually make life harder for those who do.  Those are just the ones I can think of off the top of my head.  I certainly noticed that at the grocery store and gas station I went to in Cleburne, I was the only one besides the staff who was wearing a mask.  People stared at me.  Weird.

I have zero confidence that many of these factors will diminish in significance or that people will suddenly start behaving sensibly again, or that the federal administration will do anything very useful to help out.  That being the case, I'm guessing I'm actually going to continue to be stuck here a whole lot longer than I'd hoped. 

I pointed out to David yesterday that I'd had to plunk down $120 to stay for only 4 nights at Cedar Hill and he really should reconsider letting me pay him for staying here.  Then I suggested that if this stupid virus and the stupid behavior of our fellow citizens keeps up, I'd be willing to check into the price of getting a 30 amp plug installed at his house.  He showed not the slightest sign of hesitation or dismay, which is exceedingly noble and hospitable of him, and said there was only one company he'd allow to do that kind of work and he'd give them a call.

It's been several years since I spent a summer in Texas, but I remember quite well that June is only the beginning of the hot weather.  And we're still in the first half of June and the temps are climbing to within spitting distance of 100.  That means to me that it's going to get a whole lot worse before it gets better.  The state parks are operating at half capacity right now, but what happens when the governor takes it into his head to decide that the virus is no longer a problem, as the president has been claiming.  And the private campgrounds seem to be operating without any regard for the virus, as far as things like operating at less than full capacity; of course, they're private enterprise and almost certainly have lost a whole lot of money in the last few months.  But they don't look safe to me.  And honestly, I'm having trouble finding one that's got any trees.  At least here I'm sitting under some trees, which really helps with this sun.

Well, I said last week I thought I'd have plans by now, and I can't tell you how much I wish I did.  But the situation continues to be so fluid I'm beginning to feel like I'm trying to pin down a bead of mercury.  I have to keep hoping though, because without hope - well - what's left?  I think that's where we all are right now.  A whole country of people hoping (or else in denial, which is a sort of hope).  We'll get through it.