More 12 volt problems, but I think I can fix this myself. Engine battery was dead when we left Hunting Island. I was able to switch over to the house battery to start the engine. Whew!
Then I got out to investigate the problem with three solutions.
A) Fix now
B) Fix later
C) Stop en route at RV repair shop
I figured it out, wasn't critical, so I opted to find a closer park than my original destination (plans changing again on a moment's notice) then try to fix it myself there.
|A highway has to start somewhere.|
This is where US-21 starts on Hunting Island in South Carolina.
Ironically, it is 21 miles down highway 21 to Beaufort, South Carolina.
I hate it when I pay someone for repairs and they break something else. Did they do this in error? Did they do it to lure me back again?
I just hope it was a clear oversight on their part, to yank some wires loose from their connections. I am tearing my RV apart because I thought I had an electrical connection to repair this with. Good grief.
Speaking of oversights...Poor doggy.
He gets super excited at campgrounds. So yesterday as we drove around debating which spot to choose, he was going bonkers, singing his head off, dancing around his seat and the floor board, making a general nuisance of himself. I kept trying to calm him down, as he was unusually rambunctious.
Georgia State parks do not allow you to reserve a specific spot. You choose that after arrival. You can move anytime to another spot. They give you a piece of paper to hang out your shingle on a clip they provide attached to the site number post. 45 of the 87 spots were empty, so we had some serious decision making going on. No two spots are alike in any way at all, so I was looking for a beautiful level spot that had a big play area for my pooch.
Every RV-er has their own personal criteria for what makes a nice camp. I was scribbling down lot numbers on a piece of scrap paper, then as I found something better, I would make a note and X out the last one. Sometimes I had 3-4 that looked promising. Finally I settled on one with a big play area and lots of grass and sunshine.
Harley was fighting me to get out the door, breaking all the doggy rules. Usually I make him wait until I am sure I am where I want to be, but because he was being such a brat, I let him exit the RV with me, while I checked to see if we were level or not (we weren't).
He strained at the leash and took a mega-poop as far from me as possible. Usually he waits until we are walking as he prefers to poop far from his home base.
That made me feel awful! Maybe all that singing and dancing was his I-gotta-go-poop-now notification and I totally misunderstood him.
|The entrance to Skidaway Island State Park in Georgia.|
I had a certificate for 5 free nights in any Georgia state park.
I just love nature and beautiful places.
Views like this make my heart sing.
We had made 3 stops in our travels, and at each one I had taken him on a 2 to 3 minute speed walk. He usually does his business then. He understands that parking lot landscaping is a mini-walk and not a full walk, but he generally waters the bushes and if he makes a deposit, I have baggies attached to his leash to clean up after him.
Somehow between our last stop an hour or so ago, and arriving here, we missed signals, but I guess he just has to train me better.
Can a young dog teach an old pet parent new tricks?
The camping lot we settled on was picked specifically for the doggy. It is huge, has plenty of room for him to roam on his tether and space for us to play golf, tennis, soccer and teddybear toss. So in the end, we were both mega happy.
His end happier for sure!
|Harley says "Helloooooooooooo! Hey you with the hair on your head, yeah you, quit fiddling with that electric cord. Are you going to take me out for a poop or shall I just plop it right here?"|