Where am I?

I’m off on another, shorter adventure, but I’ll be back to working on projects at home again soon.

I started writing a blog post two weeks ago about my third trip to the Ranger Tugs/Cutwater Rendezvous at Roche Harbor. I had to put it aside because I got busy doing other things, as I seem to do quite often these days. It’s sitting in the app I use to compose and publish my blog posts. Who knows? Maybe I’ll get to it later today. (Note: I finished it this morning after this post. I’m just waiting for someone to turn on their StarLink so I can post them both. Two posts in one day!)

What’s keeping me busy right now is cruising around the San Juan Islands and beyond. After the Rendezvous and a quick trip home to drop off my boat trailer, I returned to my boat, Do It Now, which was waiting for me at Anacortes. I provisioned up and fueled up and headed back out.

You see, my boat does not actually have a “home port” — a place where it lives when I’m not on it. It’s a wanderer, like I’ve become. So unless I wanted to pay a marina $50 to $100 per night for it to sit idle in the water, I needed to take it cruising. That’s what I did.

Where I’ve Been

I explored the San Juan Islands for more than a week, picking up friends for day trips along the way. I visited:

  • Dungeness Crabs
    I caught Dungeness crabs at Roche Harbor and Suchia Island. These are from Suchia.

    San Juan Island. That’s where the Rendezvous was held. I stayed at the wonderful Roche Harbor Resort, which I believe is one of the best-run marinas I’ve ever visited.

  • Stuart Island. I took my friend Liz and her dog Suki to Stuart from San Juan Island where she lives. We squeezed onto the dock in Reid Harbor, where I ran into other Ranger Tug owners, including Glen, who has given me tons of advice about my boat. (He has the same model.)
  • Lopez Island. I spent the night tied to a mooring ball at Spencer Spit, getting my first taste of the convenience of Washington State’s marine parks.
  • Fidalgo Island. That’s where Anacortes is. I spent one night there, then offloaded a bunch of stuff off the boat, got a one-way rental car to Des Moines (where my truck and trailer were parked), and went home for a few nights. By that time, my summer house-sitter had moved out, leaving the place remarkably clean, and it was a real pleasure to sleep under my own roof. I left just before my current house-sitter arrived and returned to the boat.
  • Suchia Island. I got a mooring ball in Echo Bay, which quickly filled up with other boats that Friday evening. I caught two Dungeness crabs in a trap I set from my boat’s swim platform.
  • Point Roberts. While not an island, it’s a weird little Washington State community that can only be reached by boat or by driving through Canada. I picked up a friend and his family there for a day trip to…
  • Patos Island
    Do It Now at the mooring ball at Patos Island.

    Patos Island. There was one mooring ball in Active Cove and we grabbed it. We went for a long hike on the island and my dogs got a good chance to run. My friend found a geocache, completing his goal of finding at least one geocache in every Washington State county. (San Juan County was the last.) I also cooked up and shared those Dungeness crabs I’d brought in that morning.

  • Matia Island. I managed to squeeze into the dock with three other boats at Rolfe Cove. Dogs are not allowed on the trails there, so we didn’t do any hiking. But it was a nice quiet place to spend the night.
  • James Island. I took another friend and his wife from Anacortes to James Island for a little day trip. More hiking and running for my pups. A great cheese and fresh bread — thanks, Greg! — lunch at a picnic table before a peek at Deception Pass. We saw dolphins or porpoises along the way. One of these days I’ll learn to identify all the marine life around here.

    James Island
    Looking back down at Do It Now from our hike on James Island.

  • Saddlebag Island. I tried anchoring at Saddlebag Island but didn’t like the conditions so I left.
  • Guemes Island. I also tried anchoring at Boat Harbor anchorage but again, didn’t like the conditions so I left. (This gave me a real appreciation for mooring balls out on the islands.)
  • Cypress Island. I picked up a mooring ball at Cypress Head. I went for a nice hike on the head with my pups and rested up from a busy weekend.
  • Blackberries
    I picked enough blackberries for three breakfasts.

    Orcas Island. I anchored at Eastsound one night and got a slip at Deer Harbor the next night. I really liked Eastsound and need to go back when I have a whole day to explore the town. The highlight of Deer Harbor was the friendly people, the barbecue place, and picking wild blackberries on a walk.

I ended up on September 20 at Bellingham, where I got a slip courtesy of the folks at San Juan Sailing. That’s where I would begin the cruise I’m on now.

I should point out that most of my stops along the way were at marine parks that were either free or just $15 for the night. Cruising in the San Juans is very affordable if you don’t need a marina. Even then, the marinas I stayed at — notably Cap Sante (in Anacortes) and Deer Harbor (at Orcas) — were reasonably priced.

My Current Adventure

On September 21, I set out as part of a flotilla of six boats cruising from Bellingham to Desolation Sound in British Columbia and back. I’m typing this from an anchorage called Melanie Cove off the BC mainland. So far, we’ve been to:

  • South Pender Island. We stayed at the Poet’s Cove Marina in Bedwell Harbor, which is where we checked into Canada. There’s a nice resort there with hot springs and hiking trails.
  • Nanaimo. We stayed at the port there, mostly so we could provision at the supermarket. (Canada limits what you can bring in as far as fresh foods are concerned.) I spent some time visiting shops in town before hitting the supermarket.
  • Hospital Bay. After an unpleasant crossing of the Strait of Georgia, we spent a night at the wonderfully sheltered John Henry’s Marina.
  • Cortes Island. Our longest cruise took us up Malaspina Strait (in dense fog) and then up the Strait of Georgia (in much more favorable conditions) to Gorge Harbor in Whaletown. Along the way, we saw colonies of harbor seals and humpback whales.

    Cruising in the Fog
    Two of the flotilla’s boats, both American Tugs, cruising in the fog.

  • Octopus Islands
    Here we are, rafted at the Octopus Islands. My boat is the smallest one (as usual) but I have no trouble keeping up. (In fact, I’m faster than all of them.)

    Octopus Islands. We anchored and rafted a small bay in the Octopus Islands off Quadra Island. We spent two nights there with a very rainy day between them. Highlights included catching some red rock crabs and visiting the “art cabin,” which was full of boat souvenirs and other artwork.

  • Quadra Island. We spent one night at Taku Resort in Drew Harbor. I’d been there at an anchorage years before with the folks on the David B, but I didn’t remember seeing any marinas. I got some sad news while I was there, which I’ll address in another post, but also bought some provisions and picked some wild blackberries while walking with my dogs and two other boaters.
  • Prideaux Haven. That’s where we are now, at Melanie Cove, anchored and rafted again. We went for a group hike into the mountains yesterday on what became a picture-perfect day.

    Melanie Cove
    I flew my drone to capture a few images of a picture-perfect day at Melanie Cove. Our boats are rafted in the lower right corner of the image.

But we’re not done yet! Destinations lie ahead:

  • Texada Island. We’ll stay at at Sturt Bay.
  • Gabriola Island. We’ll stay at a resort marina at Silva Bay.
  • Saltspring Island. We’ll stay at a marina at Ganges Harbor.
  • Lummi Island. Back in the US, we’ll spend a last night at anchor at Inati Bay.

The trip ends on October 4 at Bellingham, where we started. By that time, I should have a long year of cruising out of my system and be ready for a rest.

And That’s My Excuse

This cruising schedule is my excuse for not blogging as much as I’d really like to. I don’t write as quickly as I used to — I’m so easily distracted these days. (Who isn’t?) I want to spend more of my time enjoying the things I do instead of writing about them.

But I have a lot of writing and video production ahead of me — did I mention that I’ve been recording video footage nearly every cruising day? I’ve decided to spend this winter at home for the first time since moving to Washington — sorry, John*! — and to fill my days catching up on content creation, making new jewelry inventory, and exploring new craft hobbies, including paper making, paper marbling, and bookbinding.

And, of course, prepping Do It Now for another season of cruising in the Pacific Northwest. April is only six months away.

PostScript

I finished this blog post shortly after 5 AM this morning. (I wake up very early.) It was still dark outside so I went up to Do It Now‘s command bridge. One of the great things about these remote anchorages out in the islands is how dark they are. Other than the anchor lights of boats, there are no ground lights to foul the sky. I sat for a few moments, waiting for my eyes to adjust. I saw the bright stars right away; the brightest thing in the sky right now is Jupiter which was almost straight up. Then I saw the dimmer stars and familiar constellations such as Orion. I saw the Milky Way, which I hadn’t seen well in over a month. And I saw satellites and a shooting star.

I love my home, but the nearby glow of Wenatchee makes it unsuitable for serious star gazing. It’s nice to get out and away from all those lights. When I’m done with my boat travels, I’m going to settle down back in the desert, away from city lights, and look up at the stars any time I can.


* John is my ever-faithful winter house-sitter who has been watching over my place for most winters since around 2016. He’s at my place now and I don’t think he’s happy about hitting the road in about a week.

Winding Down My Travels

As I near the end of my Great Loop trip, I contemplate bringing my boat back to Washington (and elsewhere) and possibly spending some time at home.

Why So Long?

If you’re wondering why I’ve got so many miles on the Loop when most places put the mileage count at about 6,000, blame it on my side trips. I boomeranged from the Annapolis Area to Key West and back this past winter and also made round trip cruises up the St. Johns River in Florida and up to Lake Champlain in New York and Vermont.

If you’re wondering why it has taken me so long to do the trip when most folks can do it in a year, it’s because I had to come home last summer to work — I wasn’t retired yet — and I also took a few other short trips home. The northern portion of the loop can only be done in the summer and I’d been working every summer since 1998.

It’s July 18, 2024 and I’m less than a month away from the completion of my Great Loop cruise. (If you don’t know anything about this trip, you can read about it in my Great Loop blog (which is painfully out of date).) So far, since mid October 2022, I’ve spent a total of 438 days/nights on my 2019 Ranger Tug R-29 CB Do It Now, covering 7,724 nautical miles (or 8.889 statute miles or 14,305 kilometers) in 17 states, one province, and two countries. I’m currently at a very pleasant anchorage in the Georgian Bay of Lake Huron, on the Canadian side of the border. I plan to cross back into the US at month end and then get to Chicago, where I cross my wake, on August 10 or so.

Do It Now at Statue of Liberty
I stopped for a selfie at the Statue of Liberty when I went through New York Harbor in May.

If you did the math, you’ve probably realized that I’ve been away from home an awful lot — but not a full year and a half. Although I started my travels on October 13, 2022, I came home for three weeks in December 2022, five months for the spring and summer of 2023, and then a few weeks in April 2024. But other than that, I’ve been living on the boat.

Some thoughts on Cruising

My boat is not large, but it’s certainly large enough for one person and two small dogs, especially when they’re accustomed to spending months at a time living in a slide-in truck camper every winter. My boat is bigger than my camper and more comfortable, with waterfront views everywhere I go. It’s also slower and burns more fuel, but that’s a topic for another discussion. Having a second person on board works with varying results, mostly depending on the expectations of that second person.

With 240 more days of active cruising experience than I had when I started this Great Loop adventure, I’ve learned a shit-ton about boats and boating. I’ve also gotten in tune with my boat, much as I had with my helicopters: I can pretty much predict how it will respond to nearly every situation. (You know it when you have that kind of relationship with a vehicle; it’s a rare and wonderful thing.) Simply said, I know how to drive my boat.

At Go Home Bay
Here’s Do It Now at a recent anchorage called Go Home Bay. Maybe that’s what got me thinking about home?

People see me cruising alone and think they need to rush out to help me with docking or locking. Usually not so. I recently brought my boat to a complete stop beside a man at a dock who had rushed over to help me with my lines. I looked at him standing there idly just two feet away from my window and said, “This ain’t my first rodeo,” before stepping off the boat with a line to cleat up. “I see that,” he replied. More recently, at Lock 37 of the Trent-Severn Waterway, a fellow boater offered to climb on board to help me lock through. I looked him in the eye and said, “I’ve done 35 of these solo so far; I think I’ve got the hang of it.” (There is no Lock 33 and I wasn’t counting the dozens of other locks on canals I’d traveled on.)

Bruce and LeaAnne at Waterfall
Here are Bruce and LeaAnne on New Bearings. We anchored about 3 miles from this waterfall and dinghied up to it with our boats. It wasn’t quite hot enough to get me in the water with them.

But I haven’t actually been alone the entire trip. I had friends on board for a total of 102 days: Janet, Alyse, Jason, and Cheri. And I’ve been “buddy boating” with others since getting on the Erie Canal and continuing north and west. I play leapfrog with many boats. Today, I’m trying to plan a meetup with some sailing friends at a place called Bad River where we can get our dinghies out and explore the waterfall there.

What’s Next?

At the 2022 Ranger Rendezvous
Here’s Do It Now at the 2022 Ranger Rendezvous. I had just picked it up the day before in Olympia and made the two-day cruise to the event with very little experience. Since then, I’ve added a bimini top, a screen enclosure for the aft cockpit, and a new dinghy davit.

As I plan these last days of a very long trip, I’m thinking about what I’m going to do next. I know that I’m going to trailer my boat back to Washington state, where I’ll have it launched in Tacoma or Anacortes for the month of September. I know I’ll spend a good portion of that month cruising Puget Sound, fishing for salmon, and taking my Washington friends for day trips. And, of course, I’ll attend the 2024 Ranger/Cutwater Rendezvous, where I hope to do a presentation about why Ranger Tugs are the perfect Great Loop boat.

But what about after that?

Well, I don’t want to cruise Puget Sound in Washington state in the winter — that’s for damn sure.

I had toyed with the idea of bringing Do It Now south and launching it in Lake Powell for the month of October. I already talked to the folks at the marina in Page, AZ and they can provide the launch/retrieve assistance I need, truck and trailer parking, and even a marina slip if I want it. But whether I go there depends a lot on the water level; it’s about 6 feet higher than I need it to be now, but in October? And I don’t want to spend the winter there, either.

Lake Powell
I can’t tell you how many hours I spent flying my helicopter over Lake Powell with charter or photography clients on board. I have at least a half dozen people interested in joining me there on my boat.

If I have it at Lake Powell, it isn’t much farther to go to Lake Havasu for the winter. But I have a sneaking suspicion that they don’t sell diesel on that lake. And I think it might get boring if the Colorado River is drawn down for the winter and I can’t leave the lake. I could take it to Lake Mead instead, but I think it’ll be a lot colder there. But maybe not. And my boat does have a heater. A good heater.

Homesick

Of course, the main feeling I’m tackling right now is the simple fact that I miss my home. While “homesick” might be too strong a word, I definitely miss the comfort of my own (considerably larger) space. I miss having a dishwasher and a washer and dryer just steps away from my bedroom door. I miss my jewelry studio. I miss my incredible views and my garden and my deck. I miss being able to take my Jeep or truck or Honda anywhere I need to go, anytime I want to go, without having to rely on a taxi.

Home
My home has kickass views and a very large garage.

The closer I get to my trip’s end, the more I realize that I just want to spend some time at home.

But I don’t want to spend the winter there either.

Don’t get me wrong. I love my home. I had it built to my specifications and it’s just about everything I want or need in a home. It’s very comfortable. But I don’t like the winters in Washington state. There isn’t enough light. I’m usually okay until they change the clocks and then I’m miserable, with the sun setting at 4 PM — or so it seems — and my body wanting to sleep at 6 PM. And the Shadow Time.

Although I’ve never been diagnosed with SAD, I’m pretty sure I get it. It starts when we change the clocks and ends sometime in late February. In recent years, I’ve tried to stay home but invariably headed south.

Maybe this year can be different?

Giving the Boat a Rest

Either way, I suspect I’ll be giving Do It Now a rest on its trailer. The good news is that it can fit inside my garage. (You know I have an enormous garage, right?) Although that space isn’t heated, I’m hoping to get away with a minimal winterization, even if it means having to put heaters in and under the boat for the cold season.

But never fear! I have spring and summer plans for Do It Now. I’ll likely launch it sometime in April or early May and spend the spring cruising around the San Juan Islands. But the big plans are taking it north into the Inside Passage, possibly as far as to Alaska. I’m working on getting other Ranger Tug owners in the Pacific Northwest to buddy boat with me for all or part of a trip. Another summer away from home, another summer on my boat. I’m looking forward to it.

And if the bug to buy a bigger boat doesn’t stop nibbling on my brain, there’s a pretty good chance I’ll upsize for 2026. That’s when I’ll start taking paying passengers on 1- and 2-week cruises along the Great Loop.

But all that depends on whether I’m sick of cruising by then. At this point, I’m not sick of it. I just want to enjoy my dirt home for a while.

April 2024

A crazy busy month with another eclipse trip, three very long drives, lots of jewelry making, and homeowner chores.

Folks might wonder why I don’t blog as often as I used to. It’s easy: my life is keeping me very busy.

That said, this post, which is long overdue, will give you an idea of what I’ve been up to and why I haven’t been blogging as regularly.

The Maintenance Saga, Resolved

My Great Loop Adventure

If you don’t already know it, I’ve got another blog where I go into details on my Great Loop trip, which began back in October 2022. It’s called My Great Loop Adventure and I’ve been updating it a bit more frequently than this one. So if you’re wondering what all this boat talk is about, you might want to check out that blog. In it, you’ll also find links to YouTube videos from my trip.

In my last blog post, I whined about having to deal with boat maintenance issues — mainly, getting my boat to a reliable shop that could provide the services I needed when I needed them.

Those issues were pretty much taken care of when I arrived at Eastern Bay/Seven Seas Yacht Services. These are actually two different companies owned by the same folks in the same location. I get them confused. One does the maintenance and one provides marina slips and dry storage. In any case, these folks are very good to me. They worked within my schedule and, on Thursday, April 4, they hauled my boat out of the water for me. While the owner, who was driving the TravelLift at the time, was probably disappointed that my boat didn’t need its bottom painted, I was thrilled. Honestly, the bottom was so clean that I didn’t even think it needed the power washing I got for it. I have a feeling that doing 12-15 knots for hours on end in choppy salt water has its own cleaning benefits.

That doesn’t mean nothing needed to be done. The prop zinc, which I’d had replaced in Florida by a diver, was gone. The other zincs needed replacement. And I still needed regular engine maintenance. All that would wait, though.

They moved the boat into one of their yards and parked it on blocks for a month.

On the Hard
Do It Now on the hard on Kent Island. I can’t see any reason to leave a boat in the water for more than a month if it has to come out of the water anyway.

The Eclipse Trip

Meanwhile, I’d already packed everything on the boat that I no longer wanted on the boat, along with some stuff I’d need for the month. My friend Jason — you may remember him from my “Cruising with a Companion” post (as well as other posts in My Great Loop Adventure blog) — came with his pickup and we loaded everything on board. I had a lot of stuff, including my Lectric bike in a box — more on that in a moment. It’s pretty amazing that I’d had so much stuff on the boat. Jason said it floated higher out of the water with all that stuff off-loaded.

After a great sushi dinner on Kent Island, we went back to his boat — he’s a liveaboard in Washington DC — for the night. The next morning, bright and early, we added his luggage to the truck and headed out on the first leg of a road trip together: to Texas to see the total solar eclipse.

This would be the second time I traveled to see a total eclipse of the sun; the first was back in 2017 and I blogged about it in some detail. I saw that one in a National Forest in Oregon. This one would be on a friend’s 60 acres in Texas, just south of Dallas. My friend Rick, who also worked with me as a cherry drying pilot before I retired, happened to live right on the eclipse path. He was having a party and I was invited.

The drive was long and boring, mostly because the main goal was to cover a lot of miles and get to Rick’s place the day before the eclipse. We took turns driving, each getting about 3 hours or 230 miles in before we’d stop for gas, bathroom breaks, lunch, or the night. The highlight might have been stopping at the largest gas station in the country, a Buc-ees outside of Knoxville, TN featuring a 75,000 square foot convenience store, 120 fueling positions, and 20 EV charging stations.

Yeah. That was the highlight. It gives you an idea of just how dull the drive was.

Eclipse Sign
We started seeing these signs when we were still hundreds of miles from Rick’s place.

We wound up going a lot farther than expected on Saturday, mostly because the closer we got to the eclipse zone of totality, the more the motels started price gouging overnighters. When we couldn’t find a motel that allowed dogs for under $130/night and were just 200 miles from Rick’s place, we decided to just finish the drive.

(Now you might think that I’m being cheap here and I’ll agree that I am. But when I’m in drive mode for a long trip, I don’t like to pay a lot of money for lodging. After all, I’m spending about 10 hours in the room and not doing much more than sleeping and possibly showering. My spending limit is usually about $100/night, which is sometimes difficult when you travel with dogs and some motels want to hit you up for $20 or more per dog.)

Rick was happy to see us early, although we didn’t get in until right around sunset. We set up Jason’s rooftop camper and climbed in for the night. It was cozy.

At Rick’s

I spent the next day working on videos for my YouTube channel. Rick’s home is also his place of business and there was a nice employee lounge where I could get things done. That was after Rick showed us around town and took us to the airport to see his airplanes, one of which he’d sold to a mutual friend in Wenatchee. We had a great breakfast at a local restaurant and went back to Rick’s place. Jason went for a run while I worked. Then we drove around Rick’s property in a golf cart.

Sometime in the afternoon, Rick told us he wasn’t feeling well and he went in for a rest. His grandson, just 21 years old, offered to take us for a helicopter ride. The catch: he wasn’t actually a pilot yet and needed a pilot on board to be the PIC. So, for the first time in nearly a year, I climbed into the front seat of an R44 with a set of controls in front of me. Jason climbed into a back seat for his first helicopter ride. Rick’s grandson — and I can’t remember his name! — did all the flying, showing us around a flat Texas landscape dotted with ranches, residential neighborhoods, and small industrial complexes. The skylines of Dallas and Fort Worth were off in the distance.

Helicopter Ride
Jason took this photo from his seat in the back of the helicopter. I think he enjoyed this first flight, but I wish he could have sat up front.

Jason and I ate some of the food we’d brought along from our boats for dinner.

Eclipse Day

The next day was Eclipse Day. I took a shower while Jason put away his truck tent. We went into town for coffee and breakfast and to top off the truck with fuel.

Fireplace Pups
My pups found a comfy place to sit inside an outdoor fireplace — before we pulled all those cushions out for the outdoor furniture.

Back at Rick’s place, things started hopping around 8 AM. Rick’s employees, family members, and friends started showing up. Outdoor furniture was moved around, grills were set up, and the employee lounge was filled with food. There had to be at least 40 people there. The only one not around was Rick; he was feeling very ill and stayed in all day.

Rick’s son Chad pulled the helicopter out of the hangar. I worked as the loader for passenger rides. But soon he needed to take a break for fuel and he headed off.

Meanwhile, the weather had been overcast all morning. It wasn’t a surprise; the forecast made it seems as if we had a less than 50% chance of seeing the eclipse at all.

Sure enough, as the eclipse began to happen — the disc of the moon began blocking the disc of the sun — we only caught glimpses through our eclipse glasses as the clouds wizzed past overhead. We could clearly see most of the sky and it did not look good for us. But by the time the moon was half blocking the sun, the sky miraculously cleared. I don’t even know where the clouds went! One minute they were there and the next they were gone.

Total Eclipse
My view, through a 300mm Nikon lens, of the total eclipse.

We ate and talked and took photos. Music played. And then everything got dark and everyone settled down to watch.

This was my second total solar eclipse. I don’t know if it’s because it was the second or if it’s because someone left the music playing loudly or if its because I wasn’t experiencing it in the beauty of a national forest in Oregon after having camped out in my own camper, but it wasn’t quite as special as the first one. Don’t get me wrong — it was still amazing and I did not regret going through everything I had to experience it. But the first one seemed darker and more magical.

And I can’t say this enough: If you’ve never seen a total solar eclipse along the path of totality, you’re really missing out.

We watched intently until the diamond ring appeared on the other side. There were cheers. And as the landscape around us brightened, everything went back to normal, even though the sun was still mostly covered by the moon and the entire event would not be over for more than an hour.

The helicopter rides started again with Rick’s other son doing the loading. They didn’t last long. Chad claimed there was a power issue on the helicopter and decided (wisely) to stop the rides until it could be checked. The symptoms sounded like a sticky value, but it could also have simply been his attempt to fly a fully loaded helicopter with full tanks of fuel on a 90°F day.

We ate some more and started packing up our stuff. It was just past midday and although so many media outlets — and temporary road signs — warned of high traffic that day, we decided to head out anyway. Rick’s wife assured us that Rick’s condition was not something to be concerned about. She made sure we had lots of leftovers, including her excellent salsa, to bring with us.

We were back on the road, heading northwest toward my home in Washington, at about 2 PM.

The Lectric Bike Saga

I need to take a break in the narrative here to talk about my Lectric bike. I’d bought the bike to replace my MATE bike back in September. It was supposed to be lighter and it was definitely simpler and cheaper. But otherwise it was remarkably like the MATE. This is what happens when your Danish design is shipped to China for manufacture: the design is stolen and every foldable electric bike is pretty much the same damn bike.

This one did not have gears or a good suspension, but it did have fatter tires. I think it weighed the same as the MATE, which I sold to a sales guy at Pocket Yacht for $150. (It had issues, but it still ran and the battery still charged.)

The problem I’d discovered with my new bike was that if the pedal assist was turned on — which it usually is — and I was pushing the bike, say across a street, the pedals would turn on their own. That would engage the power assist and the bike would try to take off. If the power level was set to 1, I could easily hold it. But if it was set to 2 or 3, I could not. This had caused me to drop the bike with my pups in a basket on back on one occasion and had caused me to fall on the bike, hurting my knee, on another.

My old bike had never done this. Obviously, there was something wrong with this bike’s computer or something else. I wrote an email to Lectric with the subject line “Your Bikes are Dangerous” and detailed what was happening, requesting that they send me an updated computer if/when the problem was resolved.

They wrote back and offered to send me a new bike.

I’m not an idiot. I said yes.

And that started the process of getting the old bike back to them. You see, I was in Carolina Beach, NC when all this came down and I needed the bike as ground transportation until I took my break for the eclipse and trip home. I didn’t have the original box so they needed to send me one. Then I needed to get the bike in the box, put a label on the box, and get the box into the hands of FedEx.

And that’s where the comedy of errors began.

I told them to ship the box to Jason, since he’d be picking me up at the boat. They shipped the box to the marina where they’d originally shipped the bike. That would have been okay if I’d known I was going there, but I did not. So they had to ship out a second box, this time to Jason. Keep in mind that these boxes are not small.

Boxed Bike
Here is one of the pictures I sent to prove that I’d used their packing material properly to pack the bike.

When Jason joined me at the marina — which, by the way, still had the box Lectric had sent there — I packed up the bike. I looked for the label in my email and saw that they required me to take photographs of the way I’d packed it before they would send a label. We had no time for that. So we threw the bike into the back of Jason’s truck and drove it all the way to Texas with us.

At Rick’s place, we opened the box and took the pictures. I sent the pictures. The next day, I got a FedEx label that had the marina as the return address. I was told FedEx would pick it up. Thinking FedEx would go to the marina, I didn’t give Rick the label for printing but pointed out the error. The weekend came and went with no answer. We left the bike at Rick’s; I’d email him the label.

On Tuesday, I was told that the label I had was okay as it was and that FedEx would pick it up at Rick’s on Wednesday. But I didn’t get that message until Wednesday — I was on the next leg of the trip. By the time Rick got the label, the bike had already been picked up.

How could that be? It didn’t have an unused label on it.

But somehow FedEx used the existing label. And instead of sending it back to Lectric in Arizona, they sent it back to Jason’s place in DC, where it was delivered to the marina office.

After more scrambling to get a new label, the bike was finally shipped from DC to AZ. By that time, I was already home and the clock was ticking for getting the new bike before I had to get on my way again. It wasn’t until the day we left my Washington home that they had inspected the returned bike and were ready to send out the replacement. I had them send it to the marina where my boat was, which was the same marina I’d received the original bike and the same marina they’d sent the original return box.

Spoiler alert: It arrived at that marina before I left with the boat in May.

Texas to Washington

The drive from Texas to Washington state was long.

We got to Vernon, TX the first night and stayed in a crappy motel where our next door neighbor played loud music until late at night. I had to call the office twice; the second time, at 11:30 PM, I suggested that the clerk call the police, hinting that if she didn’t, I would. That did the trick.

On Tuesday, we got as far as Page, AZ. I’m pretty sure Jason worked from the car that day, doing meetings and working on his laptop while I drove. We stopped in Albuquerque, NM for lunch at a Mexican place that was authentic and a little spicy. (Jason liked it a lot more than I did.) Our route then took us through the Navajo and Hopi nations, which I’d spent a bit of time in when I lived in Arizona. I was very sad to see that the shop where I’d bough my kachinas had been converted into a coffee shop.

Marble Canyon Sunset
We stopped just before sunset at the overlook on Route 89 just outside Page, AZ. Marble Canyon and the Colorado River are down there somewhere.

With the time change, Jason was starting work very early in the morning, so he had Zoom meetings at the nice Motel 6 in Page where we’d overnighted while I got us coffee and then went down to Wahweap Marina at Lake Powell to see whether they could accommodate my boat in October. I was assured that they’d have a slip for me and assistance getting the boat launched and retrieved.

One of the folks there remembered me from when I’d wanted to buy a used rental houseboat there years and years ago. I told him I’d shed a husband since then. I was now fully in charge of my life and able to have some fun. Putting my own boat into Lake Powell for a month would be a blast — provided the water level came up a little more. (I’m watching this closely.)

We headed out of Page at around 10 AM and climbed into the mountains of Utah. We stopped at a gas station near a summit so Jason had a good cell signal for another meeting. Then on to Bryce Canyon for a short walk and look down at the hoodoos. Then back in the truck for the drive down to Salt Lake and beyond.

Bryce Canyon
We made a side trip to Bryce Canyon — pretty much the only side trip on the whole journey.

We stopped for fuel in Bountiful and wound up buying what would be dinner at a DQ there. Although I’d been hoping to get to Burley, ID on I-84, we wound up at Tremonton, UT at another Motel 6. If you travel with dogs, Motel 6 is an easy option for a relatively cheap hotel along the way. All Motel 6s allow dogs and they don’t charge extra. The trouble is, they range in quality, and you never really know what you’re getting until you get there. This particular Motel 6 had been an old, family owned motel in excellent condition that had been converted to a Motel 6 franchise. The rooms looked like Motel 6 rooms inside and the quality was generally pretty decent. I’ve been in better and I’ve been in worse.

The next day, we were on the home stretch. After breakfast at a coffee shop, we headed out again with me at the wheel while Jason worked. We covered miles quickly, but it was still a long day. It was around 4 PM when we drove into East Wenatchee. We made a few stops for groceries, Thai takeout, and a handful of other supplies and drove the final 10 miles up to my house.

It was good to be home, but it was very good to be done driving.

Two Weeks at Home

There were three main reasons I’d come home in April:

  • I wanted to remove large items from the boat and stow them in my garage. This included the Honda 2KW generator I’d had on board since buying the boat but had never used. It also included a ton of extra linens and clothes and jewelry making supplies that I simply didn’t need on board.
  • I needed to get my irrigation system up and running for the summer. Yes, I live in Washington State but the entire state isn’t as rainy as Seattle. The entire east side of the Cascade Mountains is high desert with a climate very similar to Flagstaff, AZ. The natural vegetation is sagebrush and bunchgrass; I had planted trees along the road and had a lawn that all needed watering. Every autumn I blow out the system for the winter and every spring I get the system running again and make sure all the drip nozzles are dripping.
  • I needed to make jewelry. I had sold much of my jewelry inventory to a new wholesale client on Bald Head Island and had very little left. I needed to make new inventory and then get some of it in the hands of my Winthrop wholesale client and a gallery in Ellensburg I sell at. I also needed some more inventory of a brighter, seaside nature to sell to new clients along my boat travels.

So that’s pretty much what I did while I was home.

Sonoran Sunset Tibetan Turquoise
Sonoran Sunset Azurite & Malachite
Here are four of the pendants I made while I was home.

Jason worked on weekdays while I mostly worked in my jewelry shop. He also helped me get my irrigation system running smoothly — it was great to have someone better able to climb down the steep areas next to the road to check and change the drips. On weekends, when he was off, he either went to visit friends in Yakima or in the Seattle area or did other things on his own. He spent a lot of time working on his truck in my garage to install some lights in his camper; I think it was a bit of a luxury for him to be able to do that in the shade, off a city street. One day we took the Jeep out, got a personal tour of the Rocky Reach Dam, and explored a mountain road between Wenatchee and Cashmere. I had lunch with my friend Kriss one day and we met up with other friends at their home or for dinner in town on other days. Jason even came with me to the neighborhood coffee gathering once.

Jason and the Cheese
One night, we dined on cheese, crackers, and other goodies in my living room. Great food, great company. What else could a person ask for?

My big disappointment came when I was trying to arrange a trip to Winthrop with my fellow artist friend Cyndi. The same shop buys both of our work and I was hoping to make a big sale to them. But they were on vacation for the whole week and I was unable to meet with them. So all the new jewelry I made eventually got loaded into the truck and brought back to the boat. At least I had a lot to bring with me.

The Trip Back to DC

We had arrived at my home on Thursday, April 11. On Saturday, April 27, it was time to start the drive back.

Why such a short trip? Well, I got my Captain’s license back in October and I had two clients waiting for Ranger Tug training in the Baltimore area. Both were very interested in getting the training done soon and one was already disappointed that he had to wait until I returned. These were paying gigs and if there’s one thing a freshly retired member of the gig economy loves, it’s paying gigs. So I was highly motivated to get back quickly.

Jason was motivated, too. Working from the car wasn’t terrible, but it wasn’t a good solution. And if we left on Saturday, he’d be able to split the driving with me for the first two days, rather than leave 75% of it to me while he worked enroute.

Spotless Home
My house was absolutely spotless when we left.

So after giving the house a final cleaning, we got into the truck and headed out.

For some reason, we thought we might be able to make the trip in just three days. That notion was swept aside at the end of the first day in Bozeman, MT. We’d gotten a late start and then were delayed at lunchtime along the way. But we were determined to get there in four days.

The next stop was in Sioux Falls, SD. I think that’s where Jason found us a La Quinta for the night. Much nicer than any Motel 6, although it cost a bit more, too. I don’t think they charged us for the dogs, although they should have.

Then Indianapolis. Another La Quinta. This one had a nice Japanese restaurant across the street and we treated ourselves to a good sushi dinner.

Finally Washington DC. Our last fuel stop was in Frederick, MD, where Jason took over the driving for the final stretch. I can’t tell you how good it was to pull into a parking space and know that we were done driving.

Morning at the Wharf
What a pleasure to spend the night on a boat and wake up on the water.

Would I ever make the drive again? Yes, of course I would. But would I do it in four days? Hell no. The next time I make a long, cross-country drive, I’ll do it at a much more leisurely pace, taking in the sights along the way.

I should mention here that we put more than 7000 miles on Jason’s truck.

More Boat Service Woes

Meanwhile, a few things were going on with the boat, which was on the hard on Kent Island in Maryland.

First was the total failure of a marine electrical contractor to get his shit together for my solar upgrade. He’d had an entire month to come up with a proposal, get it approved, order the parts, and get the work done. He’d dragged his ass on the proposal, claiming that he was waiting for me to complete and sign a form I never got. In mid month, he sent the proposal and “resent” the form. I approved the proposal and sent back the completed form with a 50% deposit. We established a date to get the work done — which would be right before I returned. Then, when I was somewhere between Sioux Falls and Indianapolis, I got a call from one of his guys saying that it would be 10 days before they could receive the solar panels. That would delay the job by more than a week. By this time, I was having trouble imagining them actually getting the job done at all. I told them to cancel. Then the boss called and said they could get the panels quicker from Amazon and install them with only a few days delay. I looked up the panels on Amazon, realized they were upcharging me more than 100% for parts, and told them not to bother and to refund my deposit.

I got my money back and nothing was done to upgrade my solar setup. I’ll get it done when I get the boat back to Washington state.

At the same time all of this was happening, the guys I’d hired to detail the boat had noticed that one of the trim tab parts was messed up. He sent me a picture. I sent the picture to the yard. They said they don’t know how they missed it. Yes, they could fix it, but it might take time if the system needed to be bled. I told them to get started; I wanted every part of my boat to work the way it should.

Returning to Do It Now

All this affected my plans when I returned to the boat. Originally, Jason was supposed to drop me off at the boat on Thursday. (We’d gotten to DC on Tuesday.) But now I had to start shuffling things around. I couldn’t drive my boat to Baltimore to meet my clients if the boat wasn’t ready to go. We also had bad weather in the forecast and it wouldn’t be good for doing the training I’d planned for that weekend.

I shuffled a lot of stuff around and, in the end, decided to get a one-way car rental to drive myself to the boat and then be able to commute by land to the clients for their training. The money I got from them would cover my expenses.

But by then it was May and that’s another story.