Tuesday, January 20, 2004

Trip18

We’re staying at a fancy park. Most commercial RV parks, you rent a space, stay as long as you want, then leave. This kind is different. Each space is for sale. It’s an RV space condo. You buy your space, which is about 100 feet long and 45 feet wide. You sculpt it, landscape it, put in fancy brick patterns if you want, and it is your own. Now you can stay there anytime you want for the rest of your life. You own it. When you’re not staying there, you can have them rent it out for you if you want. People like Judy and I come rumbling down the road and rent it for a few nights. That helps offset the cost of owning it. It could make a nice home base, or seasonal home base. A retired person could buy one in each section of the country and just rotate. But then a person could just rent space by the month in a park like this for $300 or $400 a month and stay anywhere they wanted too.

We usually spend some time with our motorhome parked out on the beach away from everybody, but we don’t think we want to do that with the new Bounder. We drove out to take a look today. The beach is nice and firm, but that’s a lot of weight to put out on the sand. We can stay in this park, and take the Jeep out. That’s what the Jeep is for. Take it out to all the rough messy places. Get the Jeep dirty and keep the house clean.

There must be something misleading or confusing about the Bounder. When we checked into the park at Port Lavaca, the guy at the shack looked back and asked us how long we were. I told him, but wondered why he had to ask. We’re forty feet long, just like every other full-size Class A on the road. There are a few super-size ones at forty-five feet, but we’re obviously not one of those. He shook his head like he didn’t believe me and told me I could go look, but he wasn’t sure they had anything we could fit into. We didn’t have any trouble finding a spot.

When we checked into this park, we got the same thing:

“How long is that thing?”

“Forty feet.”

“Forty feet? Looks like forty-five to me.”

These are people that do this for a living. I don’t know what it is about the Bounder

I’m happy to report that Rags the cat still has his tail. Judy and I were in the front room when we heard a loud clunk, followed by a few muffled cat meows. Judy had been doing laundry and had the clothes separated into piles on the bedroom floor. The clothes hamper was empty, but it was still open. It is a heavy tilt out cabinet in the bedroom, that pulls out at the top and pivots at the bottom. When we went to check, it was closed. It had a cat in it.

We find all the usual suspects on the beach here. Laughing, herring, and ring-billed gulls, sanderlings, willets, ruddy turnstones, black bellied plovers, piping plovers, and royal terns. Nothing new yet. We’ll keep looking.

Today dawned warm and windy. Offshore wind blowing the tops off the waves. By evening it seemed to have blown the entire ocean flat. Hardly any swells. Hardly any waves. Just a slightly rolling smooth quiet ocean with a monster purple sunset. While we were down at Malaquite, checking out the beach, we got to watch the white-tailed hawks surfing the wind coming off the dunes. Stationary to us, they rode the ridge, sliding back and forth watching the grass for any sign of their next meal.

Did I mention the armadillo? Not the one Judy befriended in the campground, but the one on the dashboard. Nice looking little stuffed guy. He’s up there next to the orca and the manatee. He got joined today by the stingray. Each other critter up because he’s cute, and he relates to something we did. The stingray is just up there because he’s cute.

Here’s a picture of what a bigger motorhome looks like. Longer than ours, and it has an extra axle.