FIRST TRIP IN ALBATROSS

Well, we finally got this show on the road. Say hello to Albatross, which is looking strangely brown in the rear in this low sun. It's actually grey, silver & white, like it looks on the side. We attended our first "Caravan" of LazyDaze rigs this past week out at Lake Perris in the Moranga Valley (south of Riverside, north of Murietta, if that helps). 143 rigs attended, so it was quite a gathering. "First-timers" like us (there were two others) get the royal treatment and are made to feel instantly at home with the group. There are subgroups within the overall Caravan Club, and we were hosted by the "Past Tentsers," comprised of former tent campers like us. It was our below-freezing-gale-wind-sleeting-rain last tent excursion to Yosemite that convinced us it was time to go the RV route, so the Past-Tentsers was an appropriate host group. Four days later, after great potlucks, bawdy joke sessions, much-needed advice on the rig, and a variety of good-natured people, we decided that the P-Ters were for us. We hope to see them all again in future Caravans. Leveling is a challenge at Lake Perris, as the campground parking was laid out by someone not exactly conversant with a transit or level, or operating same under the influence.



That's our rig on the upper left, sporting nifty ramps provided by Larry Ward from his apparently endless selection. Others required more "creative" solutions. We settled in quite nicely as there were both electric and water hookups to make things easy. No satellite service yet, but we got one station (badly) from Palm Springs and got to watch UCLA beat Kansas to get into the Final Four. Now that Stanford is out of it (again), we can root for the Bruins. We really like those three picture windows that surround the rear couches. The coach next to us was owned by John and Ilene who are full-timers in their rig. Ilene teaches art and crafts and put on a class for painted silk scarves. Loni was in seventh heaven and turned out a very nifty piece. Here's the class hard at work. We spent some time attending various welcoming meetings and technical talks, including one by the Club's resident tech guru, Terry Tanner, delivered in what I thought was a dead-on impersonation of comedian (etc.) Ben Stein. On Saturday morning we got our Club rig number (which is 2928, if you happen to see that while on the road), and were intoduced (along with the other first-timers) to the entire group at the general meeting that afternoon. Loni and I tried a cross-country scaling of the local mountain behind the park, but what looked easy in the macro distance proved in the micro to be a mess of mesquite, steep and slippery slopes. We bailed at a relatively low altitude and walked to an adjacent campground where there was a rally for those tiny teardrop trailers that were popular in the 30's and 40's. Some were beautiful restorations, and some were pulled by equally beautiful classics like '56 Chevies, etc. We had a very fine potluck the last night and, as the wine loosened some tongues, a joke-telling session ensued. My goodness. I thought this RVing stuff was middle America. These folks belong on stage at the Comedy Club in West Hollywood. Sundaytmorning we made our goodbyes and collected contact info and pulled out for the next adventure: dumping tanks! We pulled in line and tried to observe what the experienced types did. Yikes. No gloves? Our turn arrived and I started with the hoses and valves while Loni read the instructions through the bathroom window. Of course, she was on the wrong page for a different procedure and I'm wrestling with a dumping python that wants to do its own thing as . . . stuff . . . rushes out. Fortunately, the end stayed in the hole and mission accomplished. Drove 80 miles back to home through Sunday traffic (everyone heading for the beach) and parked it at home for the night so we could unload food and clothes and I could wash it the next day. I'll never complain again about washing the minivan.