Monday morning, waking to the sound of rain on Beagle’s roof
yet again, I glanced out the window to low lying fog and lowered my gaze to the
muddy pitch. Despite four days of
mostly rain, the weather report promised yet another “Atmospheric
River” beginning on Tuesday—and warnings of evacuations along the Central Coast.
“Opus, we are out of here!,” I yelled.
OK, I didn’t yell, I used my ‘let’s make this fun’ voice as
I layered on my raincoat and prepared to walk Opus in yet another California
downpour.
You may recall that I cancelled my San Simeon State Park
reservation because the rain was coming and I didn’t want to camp on dirt. So I paid another astronomical amount of
money per night for the brand new and fancy Flying Flags RV Park in Avila Beach. A full hook-up spot with a view of the
ocean.
At their prices I assumed I didn’t have to ask about parking
on dirt.
You know what they say about assuming, but there is only one
ass in this situation.
Imagine my disbelief and dismay when I pulled up to Site 44
and began to back Beagle into place on dirt (ok, it was fine crushed
rock, not dirt but it was still muddy and sticky.) I was careful to align Beagle so when I first stepped out her door, I could land on the cement patio. But every time I walked Opus or got in or out
of the car, it was a squish-fest of wet, sticky pale pink mud. Have I said sticky enough? That stuff was everywhere.
However soggy, I was glad to have the four nights there as
it allowed me time with family but with more rain coming, I cancelled all other
reservations for California (including a ski trip to Tahoe—there was no way I
was taking Beagle up there again) and hit the road. All I knew was that it was sunny in the
desert and there was nothing but rain and snow all the way up California. So desert it was!
Luckily I have even more family in Las Vegas so I stopped
there one night before heading to this lovely spot you find me in now:
Sand Hollow State Park in Hurricane, Utah—if you want to sound like a local you have to say “Her-Kin.”
With a severe thundershower rolling in, traffic was edgy
coming up from Vegas with everyone trying to reach their destination before the
heavy rain reached us. At one point, a
dump truck passed me, and when he pulled back in front, Wham! Rocks came flying out; a couple of them
pinging off Wurzig (who already has a small crack following those heavily
“sanded” snow roads on the way down.)
Thankfully no new pits in Wurzig’s glass.
Pulling up to the registration booth, I noticed that the
lady was looking at me with something like pity. Does she pity me because I am alone? It was odd…pity with a bit of a wry smile
like, “What can you do, eh?” Anyway, I
happily thanked her and headed to my pitch.
After parking and unhitching Beagle, I stepped inside to make a sandwich
and realized the glazed look on Beagle’s front window was not rain.
That dump truck!
Thankfully only a couple of small holes were in the glass
although, clearly, the rest was shattered.
But still holding up! Can you
imagine? If it had all caved in, I would
have had a mess of glass and rain and, let’s face it, tears. As it was, I knew I needed to get something
over those holes and the major cracks before the skies really opened up so duct
tape it was. We made it through the heavy rain and the morning dawned without a cloud in the sky.
Did this make me rush home? Nope. I had one more day of vacation built in and I was going to use it; this morning Opus and I hiked Quail Creek Lookout at the nearly adjacent Quail Creek Reservoir (some of you may have read my rave reviews of that campground before…these two parks are great but Sand Hollow is definitely for OHV’s—they are everywhere including along the shoreline—whereas Quail Creek is much more suited for quiet fishing, hiking and paddleboarding.)
All hope of paddle-boarding was quashed when the wind picked up during our return; gusts strong enough to almost knock me off my feet were not something I wanted to take on while standing on a floating board. So we returned to Beagle, applied Flex Seal to the small holes and cracks in the window and then covered her up for our seven hundred mile trip home. Dividing the travel in half, I’ll stop tomorrow night in Antelope Island State Park before making it home on Saturday.
So draws the end of California Streamin’ 2023. Not nearly what I imagined but a great lesson
in enjoying where you are at right now.
-K
PS: For my camping buddies: There are three campgrounds in Sand Hollow all quite aptly named: Westside (where Beagle is) is paved with full hook-ups but does not have views of the reservoir; Sand Pit which is gravel and suited for people who love large packs of people with easy access to OHV trails (not sure of the hook-up situation); and Lakeside which is paved, peaceful and delightful. There is also primitive camping at the end of a dirt road.
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