Death On Wheels…the live tour
Tales from the road

RV Park nightmare…
We had been on the road about five hours, coasting through the Texas landscape on our way to Van Horn, our first way point. Meg was concerned that our fresh water tank needed a top off, since we planned to boondock/dry-dock. For the uninitiated it means not hooking up to any power, water or sewer.

So as we passed through the ever changing Texas western planes (just a hint of sarcasm), she was ever vigilant for a location that might offer the chance to tap into a source. Mile after mile, I attempted to use my power of astral projection to hover ahead and recon a location for my intrepid wife. To the uninitiated I may have appeared to be napping, rest assured I was heavily engaged in resolving my loves H2O apprehensions. As she exited the interstate I opened my eyes and exclaimed, “found a place on the right here!”. She looked at me with that look many husbands know, saying “ I spotted it from the road, go back to your nap!” I whisper internally, “she is still unaware of my special abilities” just the way I like it.

What we had both found was a quaint RV park…or so we thought.

As we pulled in our hopes of acquiring that precious H2O quickly disappeared, as our eyes settled on the scene before us. We were transported to what looked like a set out of a Mad Max—RV Park! Let me set the scene for you…

… A modern RV (Big Blue) enters an eerie landscape where a spattering of RV’S from bygone eras appear abandoned. Along with a handful of decrepit mobile homes with the compulsory broken kids bicycles and headless children’s doll’s, let’s not forget the broken pinwheels whirling lopsidedly in the yard.

As we circled the loop, going in the wrong direction, that’s the intrepid wife way, just saying. We half expected a hoard of grizzly hardened post apocalyptic clan of half humans. Overtaking our land yacht and roasting us on a spit for their sustenance. I imagine myself yelling, “but I have ALS, I won’t taste good!” After hearing my family as they ran away…”outrun Dad, he can’t run!”, so sad of a way to go. And here I thought my family loved me.

Needless to say Meg quickly hit the accelerator making the RV do things it’s not supposed to. My wheelchair tilted to one side, in response to the steep high G’s banking maneuver. We quickly got back on I-10, fishtailing down the asphalt. All the while as Meg exclaimed, “I don’t need water that effing bad!”

Our narrow escape from the Post Apocalyptic Zombie RV Park! Hey that sounds like a movie…

TJ&O