The Dump Station
An RV Camper's Blog
If you own a travel trailer or other type of RV, you will meet fellow campers who sometimes share amusing experiences, especially at the Dump Station, before getting on the road. A little conversation while dumping sewer tanks is a fine way to pass the time.
Always a New Experience
One morning I came upon an old fellow at the dump station preparing to empty his tanks. He looked preoccupied with his hose fittings so I left him alone and began attaching my wastewater hose to my trailer's sewer connection. The last time I emptied my tank, wastewater under pressure spewed out of the pipe as I removed the cap - I still don't know what caused that. Fearing it would happen again, I carefully removed the cap and held the hose under it to catch any spillage. To my astonishment, there wasn't any pressure or undesirable wastewater; I hooked up the hose, with the other end secured into the park's sewer system, and opened the valve. I was happy until I noticed leakage from the pipe at the connection point to the trailer. I shook my head and caught the eye of my disheartened neighbor.
"I never can remember how these stupid hoses work," he said, not noticing the steady stream of black water emitting from my sewer hose. "The last time I emptied my tanks the gauge showed it was still about a third full, but I was certain it was empty."
"The same thing happened to me on my last trip," I said, surprised that someone else had experienced the same thing. "I still don't know what caused that."
"Dumping the tanks is always a new experience," he said.
"It is," I said. "No matter how much I keep telling myself this is fun, it just isn't."
"I hear ya, brother. My wife ain't got the stomach for it so I'm stuck with the job."
"I have the same wife," I said with a grin.
He suddenly smiled. "Well you have a fine day, my friend," he said.
"You too, sir. It should get nothing but better from here." (September 2024)
A Gust of Wind
We left Goose Island Friday around mid-morning and were headed home, north again, on HWY 35 through a million miles of cotton fields toward Tivoli. The winds were calm and humid; cumulus clouds filled the partly cloudy sky. Suddenly, a blast of wind broadsided our travel trailer and caused a momentary loss of control. There was no time to think. The driving instincts I developed from years of pulling trailers took control. After a few seconds of blinding turbulence, our rig landed on its feet again as I struggled to stabilize our trajectory. "What the hell was that!" I hollered, grappling to regain my internal bearings while I checked the rearview mirrors for trailer damage. I looked into the sky through the driver's side window and saw that a line of dark cumulonimbus clouds had developed overhead. I wondered if a small funnel hadn't dropped from that line of clouds to shake us up and let us know who the boss was. We would never know the real cause of that terrifying gust of wind, but that day, we gained a new respect for the forces of nature. (June 2024)
Barking Dog
"Did you hear that spooky-sounding dog last night? The one that started out sounding like a screaming vampire that later morphed into a dog bark?" I said to a skinny, long-haired fellow parked next to me at the dump station. "Yes, I heard it," replied the skinny guy. "Did it keep you awake?" "No, but I bet it kept half the campground bug-eyed wondering what the hell was making that gawd-awful sound," I said. "I wonder who the poor bastard is who owns that sick-sounding beast?" "Well, that would be my wife's dog," he said, pointing to a miniature mut sitting on a woman's lap in the front seat of his tow vehicle. Oh crap, I thought. "Well, he sure is a cute little feller," I said, wondering how to get my sized 13 boot out of my mouth. (May 2024)
