Except for a few posts here and there, Easin’ Along has been on a blogging break since we returned from California in the spring. I didn’t plan to take a break, but a series of mishaps and breakdowns forced our fifth-wheel trailer into the shop for an extended visit and, therefore, no road trips to share. After paying a sizable ransom, the fifth wheel returned home last week, and Helen and I decided we needed some time away.
Our favorite campground in Cherokee, NC, had vacancies along the lovely and always roaring SoCo Creek, so we booked three nights. After church on Sunday, we packed some food, put Mortimer in the back seat, and headed out. Hopefully, we would soon snuff out the bad karma that had followed us from California. Twenty miles from Cherokee, we learned that this was not going to happen quickly; we had a flat tire on the fifth wheel.
After several attempts (and more than an hour spent searching for a mobile tire repair shop near Waynesville, NC), AAA came to our rescue and sent a delightful couple to mount our spare tire. After examining the flat, Spencer (tire repairman) walked up to let us know that dry rot had taken its toll on all of the trailer tires. We needed new tires as soon as possible. He wished us good luck as we traveled the twenty miles to the campground. Did I mention we had bad karma?
Fortunately, we arrived at Happy Holiday Campground without incident and were assigned a fabulous campsite a mere four feet from the creekside. The sound of rushing water moving past our camp chairs helped to repair some frayed nerves. Even Mortimer succumbed to the sound.
Helen arose early the next morning and enjoyed coffee beside the creek while I moved the satellite antenna around in a vain attempt to find a television signal. The antenna never located a satellite, the campground Wi-Fi signal was very weak, and neither situation was sitting well with two hopeless “glampers,” so I decided to spend some time searching for a tire dealer in Cherokee. That effort bore fruit, and I drove three miles into town to pick out some tires.
Before I left, Helen and I decided that three days beside a creek was not long enough to ward off the evil spirits. While I went to the tire dealer, she walked to the campground office to see if we could add two more nights to our reservation. I suggested she also ask if we could move a couple of campsites down, where satellite reception might be more favorable.
The manager at Cherokee Tire suggested four heavy-duty tires as replacements, but he wouldn’t have them in stock until the following afternoon. I made an appointment for 3 pm on Tuesday and drove back to Happy Holiday. Helen had struck pay dirt in the office, and we secured two more nights. We would move to site 94 on Tuesday, after the tire change, where a large opening in the trees allowed for a better shot at a television signal. Things were looking better already.
We spent the majority of Wednesday performing an exorcism of all the evil spirits inhabiting the fifth wheel. Helen cleaned and reorganized several years of accumulated “stuff” in the drawers and cabinets, while I cleaned out one of the exterior storage compartments. We also decided that our trailer needed a name change. The original name we chose was Dora (as in “the Explorer”) when we bought the trailer. Helen insisted that I scrape the two decals of Dora from the side and rear of the trailer while she came up with a new name. Since we were in Indian territory, she decided that the name Towanda, an Indian word meaning “love” and “acceptance,” was perfect for our reborn fifth wheel. Towanda, it is.
Thursday was our day for a hike along Deep Creek in the Great Smoky Mountains National Park. The hiking trail is about a two-mile round trip along Deep Creek and includes two lovely waterfalls. The creek is a popular tubing site and, as we meandered along, camera in hand, a group of young and excited tubers scampered past us carrying large inner tubes. Before we reached the end of our trail, the tubers were floating past us and would soon return for another go over the beautiful green water. You gotta love mountain creeks and streams.
Friday was a wet one. Several storms passed over us, limiting our outdoor activities. Helen chose to work on her puzzle, and I spent time with my nose in Sycamore Row, a John Grisham novel Helen found for me. By now, we had tossed our frayed nerves and tense knots into the creek, the trailer was reorganized and embellished with a new name. Saturday came all too quickly, but we could return to Knoxville with a renewed vigor for better camping ahead. A few days of creek cleansing had worked wonders.
Before I let you go (and before I forget it), we did go to the casino on Friday night to test our luck. Helen had a great time, as usual, while I floated along just above and below the break-even line. I was having fun as well, so breaking even was just fine with me. On the way to meet Helen at the front bar, I stopped to play one more slot machine; eighty cents a pop. Three pulls in, I realized that my luck might have finally turned around after all, and I easily covered the cost of four new tires.
We’re Easin’ Along.
