Day 4: In the Shop

It was a frustrating morning. Since our second day on the trip, we've had some electrical problems with the battery recharging (not the driving battery, but the one that runs all the rest). We've just plugged in at night and been fine, but it acted up a little in the middle of the night last night and with snow sometime soon ahead, we figured we better take it in. All that could handle ol' Rocinante was a Freightliner shop about 70 miles west of Oklahoma City... which meant we woke up and drove straight out of  the city, straight away from the National Cowboy and Western Heritage Museum, the Harn Homestead, the largest collection of Dale Chihuly glass in the world, and three Miss America statues - straight away from all the things I wanted to see. Cry me a river, I know. I'm gone for five weeks, and y'all are sitting at your desks working, yeah yeah. So whatever. So we drove 1 & 1/2 hours to Clinton, Oklahoma. For the first hour after arriving, we sat in the parking lot waiting. For the next 2 hours we sat inside the RV, inside the shop, while they started fixing things (there was a list greater than the battery issue, by the way). By about 12:00, I was starving and finally got up from my pacing, and my crocheting, and my complaining ("Why'd you have to buy this stupid thing, when we could have just taken a car?!"), and cooked breakfast. I filled that entire mechanic shop with the smell of bacon! By the time we had finished, a rental car had come for us from a town about 40 miles away. Finally, an escape! We jumped in and high-tailed it to the Route 66 museum just down the road. It was small but had some interesting facts and memorabilia and just enough junk for us to buy (some of y'all will be getting your postcards soon!). Then we found a pretty long stretch of the original 66 - real pavement and all - and we rode it with the windows cracked to a perfect 60-something-degree, bright blue day. We stopped to listen to the sound of the wind turbines, since my dad heard that farmers complain about their noise scaring their cows. They didn't sound too loud to me, or too scary. Stopped again for some random pictures. And then stopped at the Cherokee Trading Post junk store (found some magnets - thanks for the suggestion, Teddy, cause there's no way my dad's letting me put bumper stickers on Rocinante's Sunday best!). By then, it was time to head back for Freightliner's 5:00 closing, and we arrived just as they were pulling a happier, healthier Rocinante out of the shop. Not only did they fix the recharge problem, but she drives faster now! Whoo-hoo for that! (All day I was thinking about Horatio's drive across America, that first American cross-country road trip, and all the troubles that he had. Puttering at 10 miles an hour on road that was barely road, trying to get to the next town for a list of repairs as long as your arm. It's all part of it, I know. And it was all worth it.) We waited a little longer for them to clean her and shine her up a bit, then we were on our way. We travelled a few towns west, and as the sun was setting, we pulled into Elk City for the night. We found a local place for dinner, and I had the biggest, best piece of country fried steak I'd ever laid my eyes or mouth on (Yes, Paul, I've continued my steak streak!)! Then we drove through a local park decorated with lights for Christmas. And here we are again, same as last night, the scene repeated: hunkered down in the campground, my dad with his glass of watered-down bourbon and his nightly TV; me, under the light of the kitchen table, typing away, with "Keep on the Sunny Side" sublimely singing in my ears.

Til tomorrow...