In yesterday’s entry, I vowed to find something interesting to do in the Menifee, CA, locale where we are set up in the Wilderness Lakes Thousand Trails facility. Today, I was wholly unsuccessful at finding anything interesting to do within 50 miles so we resorted to taking care of mundane chores.
We drove into Temecula and bought some stuff for our trailer maintenance. Afterwards, we attempted to go on a hot date which for old retirees like us consists of a nice ride through a local automatic car wash. We found one near the RV store and pulled in for a $9 cleaning. After waiting in line to enter the tunnel of fun, we pulled up on the entry apron and a local teenager inspected our car for something. The teenager disappeared through a door soon to be replaced by a very short guy in a snappy uniform. He told us we could not go through the car wash because there were items in the truck bed and I guess that is a no-no. By the time we were finished speaking, a long line of cars had gathered behind us along the serpentine, single-lane entry drive. Backing up was not an option. We had paid with a credit card so the snappy dresser went into his closet and credited us our cyber money before letting me know that among the myriad of entryway signs directing traffic according to member status, credit card use, cash only, width and height restrictions are signs warning idiots like me that in this car wash, only empty truck beds can be washed.
Shorty and the teenager then shut down the entire car wash mechanism and wandered into the dim tunnel of fun. There, they pulled away brush assemblies from the track and motioned us through the still-dripping tunnel. Our car wash date did not turn out to be as magical as we had anticipated.
Next stop was the post office so Peg could send some packages while I malingered in the parking lot. Malingering was another poor idea because not long after I turned off the truck engine, I was obliged to open the windows because it was getting quite warm. Once the windows were down, I noted it was even worse. It is 100 degrees here without a cloud in the sky. Peggy soon emerged from the P.O. and we scampered back toward our campground to get out of the miserable weather.
Along about dusk, we watched as another trailer camper attempted to move into a nearby space. Like most RV parks, the spaces are not aligned at right angles to the roads. The space he was attempting to access was also a pull-thru which means the space can be accessed by merely pulling in while traveling forward from a nearby adjacent road. Our neighbor had elected to use non-typical means to claim the site. His fifth wheel trailer was very large – maybe 40 feet.
He started by coming from the wrong direction for backing up; the trailer needed to turn more than 90 degrees. If he had continued down the road maybe 50 feet and performed two left turns, he could have driven directly in (and out later) without much engine revving from him and wild gesticulating from his spouse. In Las Vegas, they call this “trying to make your point the hard way.” After about 20 minutes and maybe a half dozen forward and back moves coupled with more clattering Dodge diesel noises, the couple had landed their trailer almost bisecting their campsite diagonally and leaving scant locations to park their tow vehicle. We enjoyed watching folks make the same mistakes we made in the past. We don’t feel as stupid anymore.