Shortcut To The Airport

The drive to Saddlebrook, NJ, was a piece of cake, and it felt good to be on the road again after DD’s winter storage. It was our fine fortune to discover a Mexican restaurant when we did a loop d’ loop over a bridge to reverse course on Route 46 as we approached our stop for the night. So we parked DD, unhitched Essie, and drove down the street for dinner. It was the best Mexican we’d had in a long, long time. Not only was the food delicious, but we were treated to Spanish music by a fellow playing an electric classical guitar, and later by an “older” gentleman (older than me, that is) who played the harp, of all things. He was very good, mixing classical Spanish flavor with things as “modern” as the Beatles. We enjoyed a couple of brands of Mexican cerveza, and it was a perfect evening out.

Back in the RV, we set the furnace to a sleeping low sixty something and bedded down for an early get up (Diane’s flight departs LaGuardia at 7:10 AM). The furnace uses propane for heat and fans that run off the RV batteries to blow the warmed air through the ducts and vents.

We had a good sleep, but then the alarm is ringing and I am up to start the generator. Ooops! The generator won’t turn over and the 12 volt house batteries are down to 8.6 volts! Now I’m in trouble. Spouse wants hot shower, toasty bathroom, plenty of light, and lots of watts for dry hair. Hmmmm.... Be cool. Well, it is 27 degrees outside. Ok, start RV engine; that should give me some more volts. It works, but the voltage doesn’t improve much and the generator still won’t start. Still being as un-flustered as I can manage, I quickly throw on more clothes and go for the jumper cables in Essie’s trunk. Ooops, they’re not there—left them in Lizzie (another car). Go back inside; stare at the control panel; turn off the furnace; oh, look at that, the voltage jumped up to over 10! Wait a couple of minutes for the batteries to reorganize their electrons, while I pray that there’s enough juice. I figure there’s only going to be one chance to get this generator started. (Mental note: get another set of jumper cables—TODAY, if I survive this fiasco.) Finger to the start button and, yippee, it starts! Oh I love the hum of those 5500 watts of power, not to mention the joy of remaining happily married if Diane can forgive me this 30 minute delay.

So the shower is hot, the hair is dried, and we jump in Essie for a delightful drive to LGA. At 5:15 it’s dark, quiet, and there is essentially no traffic. New York City, for all its other detractions, is still a beautiful city, especially at night. It’s overwhelming from the front seat of a 767, arriving on a clear night with a sleepy load of passengers. And the lights are pretty driving down the Harlem River Drive in the clean morning air. But it’s a love/hate relationship, because I also reflect on the hundreds of grueling drives through here to originate a flight or drag myself home after a long week in the office.

But this morning it’s a breeze. We’re to LGA in barely 20 minutes. Diane is on her way to Phoenix via Chicago and I’m on my way back to DD. The roads seem bumpier; they are worse than they used to be.

When she arrives in PHX, Diane will join other NPS (National Park Service) employees converging on the spot for bus transportation to Grand Canyon National Park, where they will participate in a two-week class called NPS Fundamentals II. In the meantime, I’m off on a solo motorhome adventure to join her there. Once she finishes her course, she will be on two weeks of vacation, and we will enjoy some breathtaking scenery in that region of the country together, before working our way back to her mother’s house in Dallas for a visit. Diane will fly home from there, and Dean will take another week to drive DD on home.