Wednesday, June 12, 2024
At this point, although there was still only a trickle going in, Scott announced that the gauge read "Full." I was doubtful. If that was true, why was the trickle of water still going in? And then there was the fact that we were parked on a hill. If the gauge was at the low end of the tank, maybe we weren't really full and so would have to do get water again sooner than later. But Scott said we were full, so I acquiesced, we threw the tangled, white hose on the now-empty bike shelf, and drove the camper over to site #20.
We'd been here nearly an hour and hadn't even started setting up yet , but at least we were at Waubonsie, and no matter how long this crazy set-up took, we would get Thomas' transmission serviced in Council Bluffs at 9:45 tomorrow!
You wouldn't believe how very un-level #20 was. Despite using the maximum number of orange risers on the low side, we couldn't even come close to getting it level side-to-side. Sigh. We tried backing it up even farther into the grassy site, navigating whisker-close to a large shade tree, but then we were way off front-to-back as well as side-to-side! We probably spent 20 minutes trying before finally giving up. We were tired, hot, hungry, and still at the point we should have been a mere 15 minutes after pulling in to the campground.
Site #18 was looking better all the time.
Could we do the discouraging gravel for six nights? It was a pull-through, so Scott wouldn't have to do any complicated backing up. It did have shade and a nice view… Oh, what the heck! #18 it would be.
But we had a new concern. As Scott pulled the camper around the one-way circle yet again, I saw water coming from somewhere beneath the camper. It wasn't a solid stream of water, but it was definitely more than a drip. Now, what did that mean?!? We'd never had that happen before. Did we have a leak somewhere? Would those 46 gallons of oh-so-very-tediously-obtained water all run out?!? Sweet Georgia Peaches!
At long last, we—well, no it was really all Scott—did get the camper set up. The water still dripped and the site was gravel, but we were finally "home" at Waubonsie State Park. Aahh, relief!
But wait! What was this? Water inside the camper? Small pools of it on the bathroom and kitchen floors?!? You've GOT to be kidding! No joke. We sopped it up, wondered where it was coming from, and hoped it would stop. I noticed when I filled my water bottle at the kitchen sink that the water was jerking (like Thomas yesterday?) and not coming out in a steady stream, but that was probably because it was our first use of the sink and the line hadn't been thoroughly bled.
We had gone to a grocery in Nebraska City, just across the Missouri River, for groceries on our way in and had picked up some convenience foods. By now I was really worn out, so we planned an easy supper of store-bought BBQ pulled pork (delicious!) on English muffins with a rice pack and green beans. My job was to warm up that stuff while Scott finished a few set-up details. That should've been easy, but in the 17 seconds I turned my back on it, the milk/water mixture for the rice boiled over all over the stove. Aarrgghh! And I did not handle my frustration well. 'Nuff said. But I did clean up the mess and we did have a very tasty meal, during which I mentioned to Scott the sputtering water out of the kitchen faucet, adding, "But I used the toilet and it flushed just fine." Knowing that I had a lot of greasy dishes to clean after supper, I was very happy that at last we had hot running water. Once the clean-up was finished, I'd be able to relax.
Well, in theory.
Scott checked the kitchen faucet and it wasn't working. Neither were the bathroom faucet or shower. A bit more analysis revealed that our pump wasn't working. Sigh. When we're camped at a site with our own water spigot ("city" water), it's pressurized, and just like at home, we turn on the faucet and water comes out. But when there's no spigot at the site, we have to fill our fresh water tank and then whenever we turn on a faucet, our camper's pump turns on and pumps water from our fresh tank to the faucet or toilet being activated. So, the pump not working meant that we had no means of actually accessing and using the 46 gallons in our freshwater tank.
I couldn't believe this new turn of events.
Since the faucet wouldn't work, Scott went and filled our yellow, two gallon jug for drinking water. I took several deep breaths—I've been listening to an audio book titled Anxious for Nothing—and while I slogged through washing our greasy supper dishes in cold water, Scott called our friend, Chuck, (former owner of Chuck's RV J), who talked him through what could be wrong. Lying on the bathroom floor and examining the pump, Scott found a broken plastic screw-on piece. Chuck said that if antifreeze hadn't been run through the pump during the winterization process, that part may have frozen and broken. Scott could buy a replacement part and put it on and hopefully, unless the pump itself had also frozen, it would work. Now a man with a plan, Scott was ready to go find that part!
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