You get what you pay for

Wekiva Falls RV Resort. They use that term loosely.

Last week I had an event in Sanford where I got to be a greeter at a Ford dealership. It was a nice change of pace in that 1) I got to wear nice clothes and 2) -- this is huge -- AIR CONDITIONING!!!! The event itself was 12 hours of boring sitting waiting for "ups." The idea is to greet customers as they enter the building, determine if they are shopping for new or used and then assign them to a salesperson from one of the five Courtesy dealerships participating. Cake.

But let me tell you about Wekiva Falls RV 'Resort'. I chuckle every time I say the name. Resort. Yeah, ok. The place is huge. It has over 800 sites. Not all of them work (electricwise). I selected this campground because with my Passport America membership, it was cheap. Like $14 a night. Passport America membership gets you 50% off participating campgrounds. But then there's the fine print. Wekiva Falls' regular price is $18 a night so the PA price is $9. Eighteen bucks is cheap compared to other campgrounds. But then they add $2 a night for electric (ok, whatever) and $3 a night for pets so it comes to $14 a night. Even though Driven2WIN paid for my stay, I still try to do the right thing to save them money. The sacrifices I make.

The first clue I had about this place was a sign on Highway 46 just as you get off I-4. It was a three-part sign: a bear, then Bear X-ing next 6 miles, then "For bear sightings, please call 410-xxx-xxxx." I can't remember the number. My mind got stuck at the second part of the sign. Bears???? In Florida????????? Yeah, ok.

So I get to the campground and I check in with the woman in the booth at the gate. She looked like she'd smoked her share of doobies in her past life. Anyway, after I settled up, I asked her if she had a map of the campground so I could find a site. She said, "No, I'm just going to turn you lose to the wolves." She wasn't kidding. Here is a campground with over 800 sites and why should they bother with maps?

So I ask, "Well, is there an area you recommend?" Since I have pets, she recommends that I find a place on the south side of the river. The campground straddles a spring that feeds the Wekiva River. A huge swimming area has been developed between the source spring and the river proper. The swimming area is actually pretty nice. And that's all the props I'm going to give on this place.

So she tells me how to get to the south side. Go down the road, bear to the right, and pick any open spot. Oh-kay. So away I go. The speed limit is 10 mph. I go about 2. The holes in the dirt road are so huge, they should be given their own names: River Head Gully, Big Dipper, Swamp Gulch, Washboard Way.

I'm trolling the rows of sites looking for something with a *little* bit of shade and that I can get into without too much trouble. There is a reason why most reputable campgrounds require that permanent party rigs be less than 10 years old. Without that rule, you get Wekiva Falls. Jeff Foxworthy needs to see this place. He would have a field day.

You know you're a redneck if your house is parked in your carport and your carport is a blue tarp.
You know you're a redneck if your truck is bigger than your house.
You know you're a redneck if you pay monthly rent for a campsite to store your junk and your shed.
You know you're a redneck if the license plate on your house expired 30 years ago.

I was advised by doobie woman that I "may have to search around for the sewer hookup." The way they have things set up is four sites to one electric/water pole. Duly noted.

So I'm driving down the end of all the rows scanning for open spots. Right away I can see that the permanent parties have all the shady spots locked up. Damn. Looks like it's going to be a palm tree for me. I finally decide on a spot (no shade) at the end of a row where I'm the only one on the utility pole. The nearest rig is a fairly new 5th wheel and its three sites away. It appears that most of the ends of the rows (in the sun) are occupied by us transients. Most of these rigs look like you could actually get them to start and the wheels wouldn't disintegrate into powder if they rolled more than a few feet.

I disconnect the Mariner and as usual, it takes a bit of maneuvering to get my house leveled up. Each site has a *somewhat* nice, *kind of* level concrete pad but that's only for show. You can't park on it. You have to park NEXT to it. In the grass. Correction. In the DEEP grass. I don't think it's been mowed in a month.

Well, I get it all leveled up and now I'm drenched in sweat. It's mid-day and almost a hundred degrees. I wipe the sweat out of my eyes so I can see to get the electric cord plugged in. No power. Try the other plug. No power. Maybe the third time's a charm. Nah, nah, nah. So now I'm checking this pole out. It looks like something's not right. Meters are there but something is missing in the box with all the wires. I call the office and they send out Walt. Walt finds the problem. There are no breakers in the box. That explains why I have no power. Now I have to find a new site. I'm definitely not into driving all over again to find another spot. The 5th wheel is nearby so there must be working electric on that pole. I do a loopty loop in reverse and back up to the pole behind the 5th wheel. I go through the leveling routine again and I'm finally set. Next is water. Done. Next is sewer. Supposedly, the pipe is about six feet from the rear of the RV. I look. I'm not seeing any pipes. Doobie lady said I may have to hunt for it. I use my powers of deductive reasoning (a challenge when you're suffering from heat stroke) and determine that, logically, all the sewer lines should be in a line with each other. So I find where the 5th wheel has his hooked up and eyeball a line to that. After about 5 minutes of searching, I finally find it. It was invisible with the exception of a teeny bit of PVC pipe showing as it's mostly covered in dirt. I go to my toolbox to get something to use to get rid of all the dirt and in that short amount of time I lost it. When I walked back around, I couldn't rember where it was. I'm thinking, "This is crazy. It was just here." I walk back and forth for about 10 minutes and I finally give up. The heat is getting to me. I can't see and I can't think. I call the office. "Walt, can you come back out and find this damn sewer pipe for me?" I hate appearing helpless over something that should be so simple. Walt comes out and it takes him less than 60 seconds to find it. I told him he cheated because he knew where to look. It turns out that it was a good thing Walt came out. I had to get my channel locks out so he could pull the plug out of the sewer line. It took quite a bit of effort for him so I know I never would have been able to get the plug out even if I HAD found the damn hole.

The sewer is finally hooked up and I can take a break. I go inside for a while before I completely fall out. After I cool off, I go back for the truck. I get the rock guard stowed and sit down to take off the quick disconnect assembly. I am SO glad I bought my little black step stool. I use it ALL the time. Sitting on it puts me in exactly the right spot to unscrew the couplings, get the pins out and pull the heavy QD assembly out of the mounting brackets.

Eventually, I get everything all set. The rest of the week was fairly uneventful. The swimming area was busy over the weekend. Doug said the spring water was pretty cool and that was why folks liked to swim in it. OH, it rained the day after I arrived. All those holes I told you about? Change the names to Lake River Head, Lake Gulch, Lake Washboard. I couldn't resist it. I drove my truck right through them making huge waves. But after a few days, my truck was so nasty I was ashamed to be seen in it. Once the water dried up to something you could almost drive around instead of through, I washed my truck.

The water was gone by the time I left Monday morning.

I saw bear tracks at the dumpster.

And they never did mow the grass.

Sweat!

It's been a long time since I've sweated this much. We're in the middle of a heat wave (along with the rest of the east coast) and I'm reminded of my days in Saudi Arabia when we'd fly into Dhahran and when I opened the crew entry door the heat hits you like a blast furnace. The thermometer on my RV window said 107 today. I'm sure it's a little off but not by much. In the morning just before sun-up the humidity was at 80%.

This week I'm in East Palatka which is about 60 miles south of Jax. Set-up on Monday was killer. The heat just saps all the energy out of you. It's like you're going in slow motion and you can't focus. At least I didn't throw up. My helper ended up hurling in one of the trash cans. But he was doing all the heavy work while I was wiring up the desk so I can't criticize him at all.

By the end of the day, my clothes were completely soaked through with sweat. I drank about three Bubba Kegs of water (that's about a gallon and a half). It's hard to move in wet clothes and harder still to go to the bathroom.

When you get older, your bladder doesn't work as well as it used to. When you gotta go, you gotta go. So I hurry to the bathroom and then it's a struggle to peel out of my wet clothes. First
I need to untie the knot holding up my sweat pants. Ever tried to untie wet shoe laces? Same deal. Then I'm trying to roll down my pants and underwear while my legs are crossed so I don't pee myself.

The body is going, "HEY! You're right in front of the toilet! Time to let go! What's the hold up?"

But your mind is going, "Wait! Not yet!" *tug tug tug*

FINALLY I get my drawers down. I make the mistake of not drying off my ass and when I sit down I slide off the seat. Fortunately in an RV you don't have far to go before you run into something so I don't fall completely off. Which is a good thing because the body has won the pee battle. Ahhh -- and I pee about, mmmm, maybe half a cup. Now THAT's really annoying. All that struggle for just that minuscule amount of pee. The body heaves a sigh of relief. The mind is just disgusted with the whole ordeal.

Now I have to get dressed again but my underwear has chemically bonded with my pants into this tightly rolled ring that resembles a bungee cord. If I put hooks on it, I bet I could use it to hold the helium bottles in the truck.

After about 15 minutes of working, I finally get my clothes separated. Time to make a decision. Do I put on wet clothes and go back to work to sweat some more? Ugh. Do I put on clean clothes to just get them all dirty and sweaty? (more laundry) I compromise. Dry underwear, wet pants (which are already filthy). By now my ass had dried off so I can at least get my underwear on normally.

They say the heat wave is supposed to break sometime this weekend......