June 30, 2010

I'm pleased to report that I'm safe, well, and in pretty good spirits, here in Indiana, safe within an 8-foot-tall barbed-wire fence, which is locked around me and the Motherload for the night. Nobody could possible scale that fence for nefarious intent, and if they did, I'm sure the fangy guard dog doing laps around me  would enjoy the encounter. I know I'm not stepping OUTSIDE the Motherload until morning.

When I had my propane tank refilled this afternoon,  a leak was discovered. I drove 30 miles to the nearest RV repair yard with my heart pounding, scared of a freakish blowup. The technician agreed to fix it, tomorrow, if I gave him permission to drain the tank tonight. The owner of the RV Maintenance yard has graciously allowed me to stay IN THE YARD overnight. He threw in his guard dog and elec/water hookups for free. Mighty fine. It saves me a $37 KOA charge, and when I look out the windows at all the other RVs stationed here on the gravel, awaiting repair, it's easy to pretend I'm in an RV park, minus the stimulating aroma of BBQ. There are no trees, only large perimeter bushes, but I'm snugged up against an aluminum building for shade.

While waiting for the tank to drain, I tried to do some computer work, as I'm in good coverage area here. For some reason, Verizon (my wi-fi stick carrier) would not allow me access. Would you believe it took 67 minutes and 8 phone calls to resolve the matter and get me back on the grid? And it was THEIR mistake in the first place! I almost pulled out my teeth!

I was tired, though, and short on nerves. I had set out this morning for a lovely walk along the paved road that meanders through Lincoln Trail State Park, IL, where I camped last night. Beautiful shady trees lined the road, inviting a leisurely circumnavigation of the campground. I figured 45 minutes, tops. It turned into a "Twilight Zone" episode. Almost 3 hours later, I was tired, thirsty, worried about Jubilee having to walk so far, and completely and utterly lost in a labyrinth.  I WAS ON PAVEMENT IN A STATE PARK, for Goodness Sake! How could I get lost here? The trouble was that the "main" road very quickly split into a series of spurs. All of which looked just as "main"--same width, same prominence, none of which was labeled or signed in any way. Also, they all curved into the woods, following the "fingers" of a completely inaccessible lake, which shimmered irresistibly like a mirage. So I could not see where the roads led unless I walked down them. I had no cell coverage. Not a soul was around. I yelled for help, hoping that in the quietude of the woods, someone would hear me! I've never been so lost. It was so creepy. Plus it was heating up, which activated all the blood-sucking insects in a land where I was the only target.

I found a shaded tree stump and honed in on it for a good cry, which I aborted to spare Jubilee. Then I called to my guardian angel for help. H-E-L-P!!!! I don't know why or how, but I KNEW I was heard. Within maybe 15 minutes,  a man driving a state vehicle came my way and I flagged him down. I told him my plight and he gave me vague directions but would not give me a lift, even though I pleaded. I guess I didn't look almost dead enough. He claimed "State Regulations" and took off. I muttered a few ornery hopes for his future and tried to get myself out of the labyrinth of doom. And, in another 10 minutes or so, another state vehicle crossed my path, and I ran after it like a wild woman, screaming. After hearing my scream, and then my story, I was kindly chauffeured to my campsite, which was a circuitous and mysterious mile and a half away. I would never have found it though, and probably would have parrished, either from exposure and thirst, or from being sucked dry by mosquitos, if not for that kind man, who had only disdain for the young chap who deserted me.