I’ve got three large Rubbermaid tubs on the floor in the hall full of gear, food, and other consumables. Both fishing poles are fixed and ready for the water. The laser tag pistols are charged. The tent is ready (I didn’t have time to do a test-run today, so, fingers crossed). Cheesy-poofs have been sourced and purchased. We have enough things to do that I think we’ll be occupied for the whole two days, and I’m looking forward to some low-impact camping.
My nagging worry this whole time has been that something will go wrong with the Scout; I really want to take her on this adventure but I don’t want to let Zachary down. She’s been running well since the rotor popped off, but that little episode shook my confidence. I had her out running errands today and while I was sitting in the line at the bank machines, the engine just up and died. This sent a shiver of fear up my back. I took a deep breath, found my inner peace, and figured I’d start with the first of the three requirements: fuel. I jumped out and emptied my Rotopax into the gas tank, shot some starting fluid into the carb, and after two tries had it running again. I’d thought I had enough gas since my last fill-up, but apparently I miscalculated.
So, do I trust my 44 year-old truck to get us there and back with no major problems, or do I punt for the comfort and security of our boring, trusty CR-V?
Fuck it. Let’s go have an adventure.