A couple of days before we left Valemount, my monitor, an 18” one we specifically bought with us because of its size, (the 32” curved one would’ve had to sit in the next campsite for me to be able to use it!) turned up its toes.
Two days after arriving here in Prince George, Mrs Widds’, laptop also turned up its toes, perhaps in solidarity. (I wouldn’t put it past ‘em to gang up on us ‘ommins like that)
Both of these issues are, or are in the process of being, resolved, thanks to a little computer shop called ‘Sarita’. Great service, reasonably priced, and open on Sundays!
The next ‘sideways’ has been with the brakes on our truck. We had the truck serviced at our regular dealership before we left on our Adventure, because that’s what responsible Adventurers do, and we asked them to check the brakes because we’d both noticed they were a little ‘grabby’.
Long story short: The service dept. said they checked them out and all was good – turns out they didn’t – we noticed the brakes being even more ‘grabby’ on the way here – called into the local dealership (here in Prince George) – discovered brakes are in need of some major work, (and you can guess at how much ‘major work’ is going to cost) that should’ve been done at the original dealership.
We are currently exchanging strongly worded emails with the dealership’s Head Office, who have, so far, said they take our concerns seriously, blah, blah, blah. (translates to that dismissive meme that was going around a while ago, KTHNXBY – short for ‘OK, thanks, bye’)
I intend to pursue the matter to the fullest extent of my vocabulary.
The result of all the above is that we’ve decided to stay put for the summer, look for work so we can pay down this recent insane level of expenditure, and once our little truck is roadworthy again, take occasional pootles about the countryside checking out the various ‘hoods’, towns’ and villages, and see what there is to see.
Because Spring and Summer have been so shy about showing up this year the snowpack that feeds all the rivers in British Columbia is reported to be 100%-265% above normal for this time of year. (‘normal’ late Spring/Summer temps would’ve already melted a good portion of it)
This means that the inevitable warm-up, which is starting now, will melt all that snow and bring it down into the watersheds of all the rivers as torrents of water, way faster than the land can cope with.
Last year, it was an ‘extreme weather event’, in Autumn that flooded great swathes of land where we lived, and as of last night, flood warnings are being posted for an even greater area.
That kind of flooding was part of what prompted us to leave Widder Island, (it’s actually called Hatzic Island – I can tell you now we’re no longer living there) when we did.
We feel for our neighbours, and in spite of our current challenges, (there’ll always be some, no matter where we go or what we do) we’re very glad to be well-clear of the sort of catastrophic flooding the poor Fraser Valley is about to undergo for the second time in a year.
On to other things.
This is the only shot I’ve managed to garner, so far, of our local vandal …
I don’t know who moved first, me or the skwrl. Either way it’s an interesting photographic effect
Mdme, or Msr, Skwrl, greeted us on our first day here by bouncing on to the folding table we have just outside our front door, thence leaping, with great expectations of being fed, onto the flyscreen, and clinging there, staring at us like a kitten with the zoomies that finds itself halfway up the curtains and not a clue as to how to get down.
After we made it clear we were not the sort of RVers who fed the local wildlife, (aka bowed down to threats of extortion by means of extreme cyootness) Mdme, or Msr, Skwrl, harrumphed off, climbed the nearest tree and laid in wait. Some time later, when were were innocently ensconced underneath said tree, sipping our afternoon beverages, the little bugger proceeded to pummel us with discarded bits of pinecones. Deliberately, or an accident of gravity? The jury’s out on that one.
And now, a bit of a video
Come to sunny Prince George, they said. It never rains here, they said. It’s rained just about every afternoon we’ve been here, and today, this happened …
Hail – through the flyscreen, taken after we’d run around like chooks with our heads cut off, packing everything away, ahead of pendulously looming, and very loud, stormclouds.
Never a dull moment around here.
May your hailstones be tiny, and your monitors never discover they have toes to turn up.
The Adventure continues.