We’ve been enjoying life with Molly for almost a month now. The pattern of movement, setting up camp and moving on has become a way of life.

Yesterday we spent a full day in Twin Falls, Idaho. It was a ‘pit stop’, that included getting a new fan clutch installed, the chip in the window repaired, truck washed, the muffles examined, the transmission gone over, getting a new spare tire, and purchasing essential new RV supplies (including extra soft toilet paper for Annet).

In addition to all this we established a cellular communication through T mobile. Our new contact number is 801 867 3982.

We did grocery shopping, 30 dollars worth of laundry, and still we had time to visit the massive gorge in ‘Twin’, courtesy of the GMC-shuttle service. We received excellent service and as Molly and the crew are entering  the Nevada desert we feel some degree of confidence.

One episode which is worth recounting was when we were doing a long stretch aiming for the hot springs in Challis, Idaho. It was recommended as one of the best RV sites in our guidebook, and we felt it was worth a try after enjoying Lolo so much.

Upon finally arriving, well after 7.30 pm, we were all tired from the long drive. The crew was growing surely. We were informed that there was no room at the inn, due to a Barnum Brothers (?) Concert and there was nothing available for a 50 mile radius. All the local folks seemed quite surprised that I had never heard of the Barnum Brothers.
So we were forced to venture on with no destination going like a rolling stone.  As dusk began to settle and my ‘number one’ was suggesting that we just camp at the nearest pullover, I was feeling distinctely stressed. I think I was able to empathize with Joseph, and even though my wife was not pregnant with child, she was still displaying all the symptoms..
We came across the site of a campground and we could track the road into a limitless distance. As I wondered whether to take my chances, we then saw a light appearing in the dark, I knew that a car was coming from the distant campground. They were locals and suggested that we proceed 5 miles up the road and ‘dry camp’ at a local reservoir.

Our guide could see the consternation on my face, even though he didn’t know the mutiny that was brewing. He said very kindly: ‘MacKay reservoir, that’s your spot.’

There did seem to be some serendipity in the fact that MacKaystreet was where we lived in Ottawa..

We found the road, which was very narrow and winding, but indeed did lead us to our spot. It was with great relief that we set up for the night. And I for one, slept very soundly, knowing we found a safe harbour.