Welcome back to another TWO weeks here at Solitude State of Mind!
You may have noticed we took last week off from the blog, and there was actually a very good reason for it.
For the first time since June, we had an entire weekend where we didn't have to pack up the RV, hitch up, plan a route, check mountain grades, worry about fuel stops, or travel anywhere.
And we loved every second of it.
After months of constantly moving from one destination to the next, we decided to spend the weekend together as a family. We enjoyed the beautiful views, the cooler Washington weather, some much-needed downtime with the dogs, and a chance to reflect on just how much this journey has thrown at us so far.
For the past two weeks, we've been staying at Chehalis Thousand Trails in Washington.
Our first week was intentionally pretty quiet.
We worked during the day, relaxed in the evenings, spent time with the dogs, and simply enjoyed being together without worrying about where we needed to be next.
And for once, our first Friday evening wasn't spent packing up the coach while watching our favorite RV YouTubers.
We actually went out on the town!
Well... as much "out on the town" as Napavine, Washington allows.
We ended up at Tumac Taproom, completely unaware that we had walked in on their final night before closing.
We had barely sat down when they started doing a raffle using numbers taped underneath the bar stools.
We didn't win anything during the first round, but about 30 minutes later another round started, we scored ourselves some goodie bags, and somehow managed to make some new friends in the process.
Imagine that.
Leave the RV park for one Friday night and suddenly we're social people.
Washington has also temporarily changed our drinking habits.
Beer and wine have pretty much become the only things on the menu until we leave the state thanks to Washington's liquor taxes. Between the state's 20.5% spirits sales tax and the additional per-liter tax, buying a bottle of bourbon here can become an investment decision.
A 1.75-liter bottle of Knob Creek that we would normally pick up at Costco for somewhere around $43 can easily get into triple digits here.
And, just to make things even more fun, none of the Washington Costcos we've stopped at have carried our beloved Knob Creek anyway.
So... beer it is!
Of course, William can't simply decide to drink beer like a normal person.
There must be technology involved.
While researching beer options — and trying to avoid constantly running to the gas station to restock — William discovered what may be one of his favorite new kitchen gadgets: a 128-ounce pressurized growler.
It uses a CO2 cartridge and pressure gauge, which means you can have draft beer poured directly into it, pressurize the container, and essentially turn it into a tiny portable keg that keeps the beer fresh for days.
Do we need a mini keg in the RV?
Probably not.
Do we now have one?
Absolutely.
That was pretty much the theme of week one: work, relax, enjoy the weather, and don't move the RV.
Week two, however, became a little more productive.
Last Saturday, a big rig pulled into the campsite beside us.
And as we've learned over and over again throughout this journey, you never know who is going to pull into that empty campsite next door and suddenly become part of your story.
That's how we met Paul and Deb.
They came over Saturday evening while William was outside DJing and got to experience a little South Jettystock for themselves.
While everyone was hanging out, William started telling Paul about our roof.
If you've been following our journey for a while, you probably remember what happened when we first entered California.
The front section of our RV roof membrane ripped back while we were driving, exposing the wood underneath.
Not exactly the welcome-to-California moment we had been hoping for.
We managed to make an emergency repair that kept everything protected and watertight, but ever since then it had been exactly that:
An emergency repair.
A patch.
Something sitting on the ever-growing RV project list that we knew eventually had to be fixed properly.
William explained the whole situation to Paul.
Paul looked at him and basically said:
"Let's start fixing the roof tomorrow."
Well...
Apparently Paul wasn't kidding.
The next morning, the roof project officially began.
And perhaps the greatest news of the entire project?
Krysta learned that this was one RV repair that DID NOT require her to climb onto the roof.
There may have been a small celebration.
Paul is definitely what we'd call a go-getter.
Once he decides something needs to get done, apparently it's getting done.
Throughout the week, Paul and William worked together repairing the damaged section of the roof.
Of course, no RV project would be complete without getting halfway through something and realizing you're missing a tool, a piece of material, some adhesive, a fitting, a screw, or some other ridiculously specific item that now requires another trip into town.
There were several of those trips.
But little by little, the roof started coming back together.
And somehow Paul didn't stop there.
Because apparently repairing someone else's RV roof wasn't enough of a project for one week.
Somewhere between climbing on the roof, helping William with repairs, and making supply runs, Paul also managed to restain our kitchen table AND Krysta's desk.
We definitely didn't expect to pull into Chehalis Thousand Trails and leave with a repaired roof and refinished furniture.
But we're certainly not complaining.
Our days became a mixture of regular work, roof repairs, supply runs, sanding, staining, fixing things, and slowly checking projects off the list.
The evenings looked completely different.
Once the tools were put away, we'd head over to each other's RVs, eat some delicious dinners, relax, laugh, drink a few beers, and play dominoes.
It became the perfect combination.
Get things accomplished during the day.
Enjoy the company of new friends at night.
And once again, this journey reminded us that some of the best parts of traveling aren't necessarily the places we visit.
They're the people we meet along the way.
People like Paul and Deb, who pulled into the campsite beside us as complete strangers and, within a few days, were helping us tackle a repair we'd literally been carrying around with us since California.
Thankfully, with just ONE DAY to spare before travel day...
THE ROOF WAS FINISHED!
After months of looking at that temporary patch every time we climbed onto the roof and knowing that eventually we were going to have to deal with it, one of the biggest lingering RV repairs from this trip was finally crossed off the list.
And the timing couldn't have been better.
Because it was time to move again.
Except this travel day felt a little different.
We've spent months watching our Road to ABGT 700 map slowly turn green.
We've traveled thousands of miles from Florida.
We've crossed state lines.
We've driven mountain roads we would probably prefer to never see again.
We've dealt with extreme heat, earthquakes, campground surprises, RV repairs, wrong turns, questionable roads, unexpected expenses, new friendships, and more completely unplanned adventures than we ever could have imagined when this journey began.
And every single mile has been leading us toward one place.
Our next destination.
Our final stop on the Road to ABGT 700.
The place where, in just TWO WEEKS, everything this journey has been building toward will finally happen.
The Gorge.
But apparently the Road to ABGT 700 wasn't quite finished testing us yet.
Because like so many travel days before it, this one decided it needed its own story.
Picture this:
You're towing a 38-foot fifth wheel through Washington.
You've climbed roughly 2,800 feet.
You're sitting near the top of a mountain with an incredible vista overlooking the valley below.
And your truck's fuel gauge suddenly decides it would also like to take a vacation.
We went from showing approximately 88 miles to empty...
To 17.
Then 15.
Then suddenly:
LOW.
Yep.
We nearly ran out of diesel on top of a mountain.
Thankfully, there was a vista point where we could safely pull the entire rig off the road.
We shut the truck down and called Good Sam Roadside Assistance.
Now came the next question:
How exactly do you get diesel delivered to two idiots sitting on top of a mountain with a fifth wheel?
Apparently, easier than we expected.
About 45 minutes later, someone showed up with five gallons of diesel, poured it directly into the truck, and got us back on our way.
And here's the part that shocked us.
The roadside service itself cost us only $9, plus the actual cost of the fuel, which was about $31.
Considering some of the other roadside services and membership programs we've looked at could have turned the exact same mistake into a $100-plus adventure, we'd call that a pretty good deal.
Especially considering the Love's we had originally planned to stop at was...
Thirteen miles away.
THIRTEEN.
We were thirteen miles from our planned fuel stop.
The truck apparently just wanted to make sure our final travel day on the Road to ABGT 700 had enough drama for the blog.
So, five emergency gallons of diesel later, onward we went.
We reached the Love's, filled the truck completely, and were more than ready for this travel day to be over.
A few more miles disappeared beneath the tires before we finally pulled into our new home.
We backed into the dust, leveled the coach, hooked everything up, opened the slides, and finished setting up with just enough daylight left to actually see what we were doing.
And then...
We could finally look around.
We're almost there, Anjuna family. ❤️
What started as a crazy idea thousands of miles ago is about to become very, very real.
The roof is fixed.
The tank is full.
The Road to ABGT 700 is almost completely green.
And The Gorge is right there.
Until next week...
See you down the road. 🚐❤️🎶
