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Final tasks before departing

I’m still not going to call it a nip in the air but this is the fourth night in a row that we’ve had to run the furnace at night. (As far as I’m concerned, a “nip in the air” requires frost on the ground in the morning.) But it is getting chilly. Last night the lake finally calmed down and we got some good boarding in until sunset, but I was shivering all through dinner as I dried off. Normally I don’t even bother with a towel, but eating on the outdoor deck with the temperatures plummeting was tough. Everyone broke out their fleeces and sweatshirts. If we get out on the water again this week I’ll probably have to wear my wetsuit.

The Airstream, of course, is always ready for a change in weather. I only need to get one of the propane tanks topped off before we go, because we’ll be in the north for a few more months, although not in Vermont. Eleanor was talking about how she’d left most of her warm clothes in Tucson and was now regretting it. We do have a basic supply of cold-weather clothing in the trailer, so it’s not a crisis. We’ll have to dig it up from the deepest recesses of our storage bins and rotate out most of the summery shorts-and-polos that are on the top of the clothes pile now.

“Indian summer” will probably come around soon enough. Even here in Vermont the forecast calls for a brief period of upper 80s this weekend. September is a great month to be traveling New England, because the weather is moderate and crowds are gone. Even though we’re heading west, I wouldn’t want to dissuade anyone from coming here and enjoying the late-summer weather. If we had more time we’d stay another month in New England for sure, as we did last year.

Panton Jim Breitinger.jpg

Last night we had a visit from fellow Airstreamer Jim Breitinger. I met him in Perry at the International Rally, where he was selling meteorites and stones at a booth. Jim has a 1973 Airstream that is getting serviced at Colin Hyde’s shop in Plattsburgh NY right now. On his way up there to check on progress, he stopped in here and joined us for dinner and an overnight in our Airstream Safari.

It’s easy hosting fellow RV’ers in the Airstream, since they already know how things work. No need to explain the operation of the toilet, or warn about the six-gallon hot water capacity. Experienced RV’ers know when to duck, when to sit down and get out of the way, and generally how to co-exist in a small space. So Jim was an easy guest to have. We’ll see him again in January 2008, at Quartzite.

Meanwhile the rush to get ready continues. So far, so good. Our stuff in the storage unit is 98% ready to load on the truck. On Thursday the Airstream will get a thorough interior cleaning (which doesn’t take long since the space is so compact), we’ll take care of a few errands, and we should be just about ready.

I have decided on a minor luxury. The Nissan Armada has not been well cleaned in two years, and the interior is frankly a mess. The rugs are impregnated with desert dust, beach sand, cookie crumbs, and dried clay. The seats are splotched with souvenirs of everything Emma has eaten in the past two years. The vinyl surfaces are mottled with black from grease-stained fingers, and there are numerous light scratches in the paint’s clearcoat. For the first time in my life, I will take a car to a detailer for a thorough cleaning, including shampooing of all the carpets and fabrics. The car really needs it, and being two years old, it has a lot of life ahead. Time for a little cosmetic maintenance.

The cleanup will be one of our last maintenance items until we arrive in Jackson Center, OH at the Airstream factory. I’ve got a list of items for the factory service techs to deal with when we get there, but nothing major.

One Response to “Final tasks before departing”

  1. Dr. C. Says:

    On behalf of tens, hundreds, perhaps thousands of your silent blog worshippers, Vacate Vermont.

    If we have to endure one more entry about “His Dampness” and his waveboarding prowess, this will become the Lunesta log.

    Now, before it’s too late, ambulate. We want our friend, not Ambien, to hit that lonesome highway extolling the virtue of the open road. Why else would we sit at home reading the narrative ?