Don’t leave home unless you have to. We have to. It’s the best way I can think of to deal with my trailer anxiety. Give me camping or give me death. My two propane tanks are double-checked and loaded. Also, the Escape bed linen, pillows and the other necessaries, like canned goods, liquid refreshments, rolls of paper. Let’s roll!
Can’t stand this isolation any more. Got to hit the dusty trail. The sun awaits us. Trailer is packed and we are heading out for yes, The Beach. I have a great need to wash my hands in the ocean. And the masks. We will drive like hell, hoping we don’t get there. Arrive Sunday, just in time to join everybody in the sand, assuming there’s parking.
Got to be careful about towing the trailer onto the beach, of course. Did that once at Elephant Butte Lake. Big mistake. Really big mistake. Lucky then to entice a group of party guys with a deuce and a half to tow us out onto hard sand. Live and learn, right?
I have watched my last mask-making tutorial. I used scissors to cut off the elastic waist band from my worst pair of underwear. There’s no elastic ribbons available in WalMart. That works. My sister is mailing me an extra mask from New Jersey anyway.