Forum Discussion
Yup. True all. I have decomposed to the point where I am almost physically unable to boondock even in Quicksilver even with full hookups. Bad spine, shoulders, you name it. It's tough to admit this to myself.
But, there is the bright-side. Brenda decided to stay in Las Penas. A half mile from the tropic ocean. Vacation-land. Maintaining the brick and mortar is about one-tenth the labor of maintaining the bus. Yeah I do spend time in Quicksilver. I can't sit in leather with this heat so I spread a blanket over the sofa.
It would cost me three hundred dollars plus to head up to Patzcuaro for a four day escape from hurricane season and humid days and nights. Tolls, fuel, and RV park rental. The park costs more than two-rooms at a favorite 2-star hotel and then we can walk from the hotel downtown. Parking is nightmare on steroids in Patzcuaro. I think the taxi rate from the RV park to Plaza Bocanegra is ten dollars one way. The youngest may want to nap -- the RV park just isn't workable. With Purepecha (Tarascan) indians carrying goods to the central market, a memory foam cushion on an iron park bench is a superb way to spend the afternoon. People-watching.
Quicksilver has given me countless memories of true boondock camping. Being it is a three axle raised 5" gave me the ability to hump over some really bad dirt "roads". One excursion had me spending weeks and weeks outside the Mayan ruins of Tikal, Guatemala. In the rain forest. With Howler monkeys and a distant roar of a jaguar 0 cylinders.
After the new casita is built, I will have power to the bus and will turn it into a real hideout. The old place is south of the gen shed and the new place is east of the gen shed and half the distance. I label it "umbilical camping". I walk down the hill shortcutting through the parking of a tiny store, down a weird stairway of flat old tires filled with concrete, across the beach parking area and down to the palm frond restaurant. With 13 lanchas and 8 restaurants the beach is rife with gossip.
When I'm in the states, I pass by residential ticky-tacky homes with 10,000 restrictions including no RV parking and shudder. Further out at the Lakes there is a typical california RV park under the oaks. I noted there was a billboard size sign at the entrance listing a myriad of ********** NOT PERMITTED. All for $48.00 plus tax per night.
The thought of "I'll do anything for a change of scenery" crossed my mind. Escape from Ticky-Tacky land. But retaining main-street push-button conveniences.
Meanwhile back at the ranch...
Brenda brings out a huge platter of grilled lobster. I look out over the ocean. A long line of flat bottom cumulus clouds line the horizon. The tradewinds toss the hammock and after stuffing myself I will have to find energy to make it from the table to the hammock. With a bit of luck I will not dream of being stuck in a USA RV Park Diorama.
But, there is the bright-side. Brenda decided to stay in Las Penas. A half mile from the tropic ocean. Vacation-land. Maintaining the brick and mortar is about one-tenth the labor of maintaining the bus. Yeah I do spend time in Quicksilver. I can't sit in leather with this heat so I spread a blanket over the sofa.
It would cost me three hundred dollars plus to head up to Patzcuaro for a four day escape from hurricane season and humid days and nights. Tolls, fuel, and RV park rental. The park costs more than two-rooms at a favorite 2-star hotel and then we can walk from the hotel downtown. Parking is nightmare on steroids in Patzcuaro. I think the taxi rate from the RV park to Plaza Bocanegra is ten dollars one way. The youngest may want to nap -- the RV park just isn't workable. With Purepecha (Tarascan) indians carrying goods to the central market, a memory foam cushion on an iron park bench is a superb way to spend the afternoon. People-watching.
Quicksilver has given me countless memories of true boondock camping. Being it is a three axle raised 5" gave me the ability to hump over some really bad dirt "roads". One excursion had me spending weeks and weeks outside the Mayan ruins of Tikal, Guatemala. In the rain forest. With Howler monkeys and a distant roar of a jaguar 0 cylinders.
After the new casita is built, I will have power to the bus and will turn it into a real hideout. The old place is south of the gen shed and the new place is east of the gen shed and half the distance. I label it "umbilical camping". I walk down the hill shortcutting through the parking of a tiny store, down a weird stairway of flat old tires filled with concrete, across the beach parking area and down to the palm frond restaurant. With 13 lanchas and 8 restaurants the beach is rife with gossip.
When I'm in the states, I pass by residential ticky-tacky homes with 10,000 restrictions including no RV parking and shudder. Further out at the Lakes there is a typical california RV park under the oaks. I noted there was a billboard size sign at the entrance listing a myriad of ********** NOT PERMITTED. All for $48.00 plus tax per night.
The thought of "I'll do anything for a change of scenery" crossed my mind. Escape from Ticky-Tacky land. But retaining main-street push-button conveniences.
Meanwhile back at the ranch...
Brenda brings out a huge platter of grilled lobster. I look out over the ocean. A long line of flat bottom cumulus clouds line the horizon. The tradewinds toss the hammock and after stuffing myself I will have to find energy to make it from the table to the hammock. With a bit of luck I will not dream of being stuck in a USA RV Park Diorama.
