Chapter 2
Welcome Back to the Homestead
A Familiar Face and a Warm Welcome
Despite the storm clouds and soggy roads, we finally rolled into Burro Mountain Homestead without incident.
Unfortunately…
The office had already closed for the evening.
We knew our campsite number from our previous visit, but Dan and Nancy couldn’t remember theirs, and Scott and Kerri weren’t completely sure either. As we stood looking around for instructions, headlights appeared in the distance.
It was Dewey.
If you’ve ever stayed at Burro Mountain Homestead, chances are you’ve met him. Dewey is one of those people who instantly makes you feel like family. Before I could say a word, he stepped out with a huge smile, gave me a hug, and welcomed us back.
Now that’s hospitality.
After introducing him to Dan and Nancy, he walked over to the office door, pulled the campsite assignment sheet from where it had been hanging the whole time, and pointed each of us toward our sites.
I couldn’t help but laugh.
The information had been right in front of us all along.
Sometimes “Captain Obvious” misses the obvious.
The Great Leveling Adventure
Dan and Nancy headed off to their campsite while we pulled into the open parking area to unload the RZR.
Everything was going according to plan.
Until we tried leveling the motorhome.
The recent rain had turned our campsite into something resembling chocolate pudding.
As soon as the leveling jacks touched the ground, they began sinking deeper and deeper into the soft soil.
Back up.
Try again.
Still sinking.
Raise the coach.
Move the jack pads.
Try again.
Nope.
Still sinking.
At one point, Tracey asked,
“Honey…do you know where our jack pads are?”
I shrugged.
“No idea.”
“I do,” he replied.
“Oh good!”
“They’re probably still sitting in Flagstaff where we forgot them.”
Oops.
Fortunately, we’d managed to find three old cracked pads buried in one of the storage compartments.
Unfortunately…
Three wasn’t enough.
Thankfully, Scott came to the rescue with several extras from his trailer.
Brothers who camp together really do look out for one another.
After what felt like an engineering project worthy of NASA, the coach was finally level.
Well…
Mostly level.
One tire was still barely touching the ground.
The jack pads had practically disappeared beneath the mud.
Tracey was soaked, covered in dirt, and looked like he’d just wrestled the mountain.
Meanwhile, my job had simply been pushing buttons inside the coach.
I think I got the easier assignment.
Did We Forget Something?
Once we finally had everything set up, we slipped into our usual routine.
I organized the inside of the motorhome.
Tracey handled everything outside.
A little while later he came inside, collapsed onto the couch, and let out a long sigh.
Success.
Or so we thought.
I switched on the television.
Nothing.
The satellite searched.
Nothing.
I glanced at the electrical control panel.
No power.
I looked over at Tracey.
“Honey…”
“Are we plugged into shore power?”
His eyes got wide.
He jumped off the couch.
“Uh…”
“No.”
Out the door he went.
After everything we’d gone through getting level, we’d completely forgotten the simplest step of all.
Camping keeps you humble.
New Friends Around the Table
Once we were finally settled, we wandered down to Dan and Nancy’s campsite to see how they were getting along.
This was their first visit to Burro Mountain Homestead, and we were excited to hear their first impressions.
What started as a quick visit quickly turned into one of those evenings campers know so well.
Lawn chairs appeared.
Drinks were poured.
Stories started flowing.
Before long, Scott and Kerri joined us, and six people who had only recently become friends were laughing together like we’d been camping for years.
Nancy eventually announced that dinner wasn’t going to cook itself.
Dan smiled, fired up the stove, and together they prepared one of his favorite meals—Italian beef sandwiches.
At first, Tracey and I politely declined.
We didn’t want to impose.
They insisted.
Not only did they feed us…
…they fed everyone.
The sandwiches were incredible.
Tender beef.
Perfect seasoning.
Comfort food at its finest.
I remember thinking,
“I really need to get this recipe.”
Of course…
Not so I could make it.
So Tracey could.
The Most Dangerous Object in Camp
A little after ten o’clock, we decided it was finally time to call it a night.
Dan jokingly waved as we left.
“Be careful going home!”
Home happened to be about six campsites away.
What could possibly happen?
As it turns out…
Quite a bit.
The campground was completely dark.
No flashlight.
No cell phones.
Just the two of us slowly making our way back toward the motorhome.
Tracey, always the gentleman, stepped in front of me so he could open the RV door.
Then…
THUD.
I heard it before I saw it.
Tracey suddenly grabbed my hand, muttered a few words I probably shouldn’t repeat here, and froze.
He had walked directly into the campground picnic table.
Not bumped into it.
Not clipped the corner.
Walked full speed into it with both shins.
Once we got inside and turned on the lights, the damage became obvious.
One leg already had a sizeable knot forming.
The other was scraped from shin to calf.
Out came the first-aid supplies.
I cleaned the cuts, grabbed the Deep Blue and lavender from our essential oil kit, and did my best to help with the swelling.
Eventually the pain eased enough that we both started laughing.
Only Tracey could survive hours of mountain driving, pouring rain, muddy campsites, and sinking leveling jacks…
…only to be taken out by a stationary picnic table.
As we finally crawled into bed, I couldn’t help but smile.
We’d only been at Burro Mountain for a few hours…
…and somehow we’d already created enough memories to laugh about for years to come.