Radiators, Lights, & Tulips

This old journal was at the Starbuck's I escaped to on April 18th in Havasu. With temps in the upper 80s, doing taxes inside the stuffy RV was not an option. I needed AC to focus. The journal was filled with notes from previous Starbuckeroos, silly pictures from children and pondersome insight from others. It was a collection of being there: in that moment at that Starbucks. Now, it's gracing the cover of this blog post, the first official post of this migration.

So, I left on Wednesday by 3 p.m. and headed a little southward to Industrial Boulevard. It was out of the way; I was supposed to be going north. But...I do this thing. On the last day in Havasu, I ride the entire stretch of the LBR, the London Bridge Road. I'd already driven from the In-and-Out Burger at the south end to Industrial earlier, so now I had to start at Industrial.

Industrial, down the hill, and turn right onto the LBR. Pass drain-pipe lady surrounded by angels*. Smell the growing facility before seeing it. Up a hill, down a hill. Through Desert Hills, past the warning sign for wild burros, and out at the north end.

Climbing the hill up 95 and away from Havasu, I noticed the engine running hot. I'd just checked the radiator before leaving, so I popped the hood to let air flow cool the engine while driving and turned the heater on full blast up the windshield to take off more of the heat. I rode it slow and steady up the hill and to Interstate 40 and west to Exit 1. I wanted to go past Catfish Paradise and Topock one more time before leaving town. Plus, the gas was always cheapest on the reservation at the Thylapo station. I filled up there.

I wanted to stop for the night just west of Laughlin because that big hill would be best when the air is cooler in the morning. But, without any place to boondock at the bottom of the hill, I made my way up the hill to the place where the four-wheeling people park their trailers. I could camp there.

Only...with my slow going and heat-diversion from the engine, I was able to maintain the engine at the hotter end of the normal reading. I climbed the whole hill and started to look for boondocking opportunities as the sun rapidly set.

I actually didn't find anything until the sun went waaaaay down and dark sky covered the highway.

Now....I've had this RV, the Godspeed, since August 2017. I've often lamented the dim headlights thinking that they were just that way because...well...the chassis is 1987 and maybe they just didn't put brights on all cars. Granted, I never know my parents to be without bright lights, even with older cars from the 60s or 70s. But...well...it had to be the Econoline, right? Over the years, I tried turning the dash-dimmer switch, and I just figured that my bright lights (like by hazard lights) are just broken. They'll get fixed one day, right? Take a number and stand in line. Wait your turn. One repair job at a time.

So now this is the part where I feel really stupid.

Earlier...like when I was still in Havasu and packing up...I saw this button on the floor beneath the steering wheel and way up high on the left side.

I could have smacked my head, but I didn't want to be in pain any more than the pain my shame and stupidity brought upon me.

The dinosaur dimmer switch!

Duh!

I've used these before. I've had cars--from the 70s and 80s--that had the foot dimmer switch. Why didn't I even think to check there in 2017 until now?

So, it was on the highway north of Cal Nev Ari where I first got to use my dimmer foot pedal!

Yay for being able to see!

I finally camped for the night a few miles south of Boulder City on that road that heads toward Nelson, Nevada. There was a nice pull off, and I was able to set up camp away from the road noise.

The night grew chilly and still. A few times, I woke to feel the cold on my nose and hunker down further into the sleeping bag. In the predawn hours, I pulled Buena up closer. Her ears felt cold, so snuggled against her until we both warmed up.

In the morning, I removed the Mexican blankets from the windows, and sunlight streamed in at a slanted angle. I put the hydroponic tulips I'd gotten on clearance in the sunlight and took pictures of the way the petals captured the sunlight.

Next, I checked the radiator and found I was down by about 3/4 a gallon of fluid. I added what I had in the RV and then stopped in Boulder City to pick up two more gallons of fluid. I'd be taking the backroads north, up along Lake Mead. Overton was about sixty miles away. Nothing else lay between Boulder City and Overton. I needed to make sure I was prepared for the crossing in case of an overheated engine.

At the south end of the lake, I stopped at a pull off to hike with Buena. This picture is very telling of how far the water is down. (Hint: compare the foreground to the background.)

Now that the sun is about to set, I'm camped for the night somewhere between the north edge of the Lake Mead Recreation Area and Overton. I'm almost out of propane, but a nearby camper says the nights here haven't been chilly. I hope not. I'm going to hope there's enough propane to keep the refrigerator running through the night. Then, in the morning, I'll head into Overton for propane.

Happy trails!

* Another story for another day...