May 25 / Not sure what it’s doing in your neck of the woods, but Everett and I have been camping in the rain for close to a month now and it’s getting to be a tad tiring. To combat cabin fever, we’ve taken to having guests in to enjoy our electric fireplace of an evening – not quite traditional, but warmer and dryer than sitting around the waterlogged fire pits outdoors. What IS traditional is that conversation sooner or later turns to the trials and tribulations of camping.
I started it off by telling about Everett’s pre-trip meltdown over his air compressor. He’d been needing one to top off the airbag suspension under our 5th wheel, to keep up the tire pressures on both the 5th and the truck, and for other small jobs around a campsite. So I gave him one for Christmas. You should be aware of course that he knows all about machinery so he won’t read directions – this being the standard state of affairs for a male New Englander. So before our first camping trip, Everett fired up the compressor. Within 5 minutes the swearing and shouting started … “$*(@*# gauges don’t work! %(*@(*$ air tank pressure is up, but the air won’t come out! Gonna talk with those $*(@#*%s at the hardware store – we need a new nozzle!” And so on. Having armed myself earlier by reading the instruction manual, I calmly walked up to the compressor, made one turn of the “outlet” knob from “off” (the setting they shipped it with) to “on”. Needless to say, the swearing did not diminish for some time.