Life's a Stitch

It's a thing, not a virus, but given the increasing amount of North American RV and trailer sales, almost an epidemic.

Let's back up at bit. The year prior to turning 60 I hiked the Juan de Fuca trail with dear friends. It rained so hard our site flooded and the rain came up through the bottom of the tent and up around our camping mattresses, and soaked us from the back up. Shortly thereafter we were invited to camp in Alberta and were generously offered the night in a cute little Boler trailer, while the owners stayed in a tent. That was it for me. I announced to C that tent camping was a thing of my past. 

Advance a couple of years and the opportunity to once again, be a guest in another camper. On the way home I saw a a small trailer being towed by an SUV and told C that's what it would take to get me back into nature. Long story short, we found what we wanted: a short two axel (for safety) trailer that had a real bathroom (not a wet bath like in a boat head where you can sh*t, shower and shave from the same seat), a separate fridge and freezer, a double sink, a microwave, a true queen size bed, a three burner stove, no slide outs, and weighed under 3000lbs so it could be towed without a truck. That's a lot to ask for, but do-able. I wanted a more than comfortable step up from sleeping in a tent. We eventually found our mouse house, a Winnebago Micro Mini.

When we went to sign the contract, the salesperson told us in a year's time we'd regret buying it. Why? Because people suffer from two foot-itis, wishing they had bought a trailer that was two feet longer in order to get additional features. I told him this had all I wanted and if I suffered from that affliction, it was because I wanted something two feet smaller. So, as they say here in the True North Strong and Free, Bob's your uncle. Two years ago we became the proud owners of our little house on wheels. 

It feels good to escape and feels particularly safe in the time of Covid sans airports, flights, hotels and all the usual trappings of travel. Just us in our mouse house heading to off-season (read sparsely populated) campsites. We just completed our last outing of the year (pictures to follow) and returned to reality along with a second bout of California smoke. It actually started on the second day of our trip:

And speaking of reality, returning home, given current events I wondered if I really like the fact that we have access to addictive US live news as part of our Canadian internet plan. A stark contrast to camping without internet access.