The Boathouse, Burley, Idaho, to Crystal Crane Hot Springs, Oregon — 350 Miles, 5.5 Hours
Headed for Hot Water!
We had a relaxing start to the morning. It was chilly, but thankfully, there was no wind. I took Taddy for a long walk while Janice readied Lexy to set sail on another leg of our Grand Adventure.
Another Harvest Hosts guest had arrived overnight, and as we walked past their camper, a man and his dog emerged. I waved, and he came over to chat. His name was Eric, and he and his wife, along with their dog Freya, were from Seattle. They were slowly making their way across the country to St. Petersburg, Florida, where they planned to arrive by Thanksgiving.
We shared stories about our wonderful experiences with the Harvest Hosts and Boondockers program. One of the things I love most about traveling this way is the opportunity to meet kindred spirits who share our love of adventure and discovery. Every encounter reminds me that there are interesting people and stories waiting around every corner.
We wished each other safe travels, and Tad and I climbed aboard Lexy.
Janice and I were especially excited about today's destination. Tonight, we would be back in Oregon for the first time since September 5, when we spent our first night on the road in Boardman. After nearly eight weeks of traveling across the United States and Canada, we were finally returning to our home state.
But before we could hit the road, there was one little matter requiring our attention.
A much-needed sani-dump.
Now, for those unfamiliar with the finer points of motorhome living, emptying the holding tanks is one of those necessary chores that is best accomplished quickly, efficiently, and without incident.
Usually, that's exactly how it goes.
Usually.
I hooked the sewer hose to Lexy's outlet, but my hands were cold, and somehow, I failed to secure the connection properly.
Complicating matters, we were parked a little farther from the drain than usual. I stretched our trusty slinky sewer hose to its absolute limit while Janice held the other end firmly over the sewer pipe.
Everything appeared ready.
I pulled the gate valve.
And then...
"OH, THE HUMANITY!"
For those who remember the famous radio account of the Hindenburg disaster, those immortal words seemed particularly appropriate.
We had a gusher!
Not from the end of the hose, mind you, but from somewhere underneath Lexy, where the connection had come loose.
Janice announced the unfolding catastrophe, and I quickly slammed the gate valve shut.
There are moments in life when time seems to stand still. This was one of them.
I grabbed the water hose and began washing down the pavement, cleaning up the evidence of our unfortunate eruption. Then I moved Lexy closer to the drain, reattached the sewer hose, this time making absolutely certain it was properly secured and we finished our business without further incident.
We thoroughly cleaned everything, packed up our equipment, and made a hasty departure, our dignity mostly intact.
Although I couldn't help noticing that someone, who shall remain nameless but happens to be my wife, was snickering a little too loudly.
The entire episode reminded us of Robin Williams in the movie RV, where the simple task of emptying a motorhome's holding tanks turns into an unforgettable disaster.
Fortunately, ours was considerably less spectacular.
Although I suspect Janice might tell a slightly different version of the story.
With our sanitation catastrophe behind us, we finally set sail for Oregon.
Thankfully, the remaining five and a half hours were wonderfully uneventful. After so many weeks of extraordinary adventures, unexpected detours, and occasional mechanical challenges, an uneventful drive was something to celebrate.
Tad and I enjoyed a couple meat stick "road cigars" We listened to our blogs and some music. Our spirits where high as we crossed over into Oregon. We had forgotten that about 80 miles of Oregon’s eastern border is on Mountain Time.
We arrived at Crystal Crane Hot Springs, settled Lexy into our campsite, and headed for a long, relaxing soak in the wonderfully warm mineral waters.
Ahhhhh!
After spending the morning dealing with an entirely different kind of liquid, soaking in hot water was a particularly welcome change.
The contrast was not lost on me.
As evening settled over the high desert, we retired early to the comfort of our little home on wheels. Somewhere nearby, coyotes began howling, their haunting voices carrying through the darkness.
We listened for a while before starting another chapter of our audiobook. We didn't make it through the entire chapter before sleep overtook us.
It had been another memorable day on the road, beginning with an unexpected eruption and ending in the soothing embrace of a natural hot spring.
From hot water of our own making to hot water of nature's making.
And perhaps best of all, after 57 days of wandering, we were back in Oregon.
Not quite home yet, but close enough to feel its familiar embrace.
Life is good.
Even when the sewer hose comes loose.
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