Our trip shifts into neutral and we coast for the next two weeks.
My family has a flour mill that has been passed through the generations since the early 1800’s. It was originally fueled by water fed in through a reservoir, hence the slogan “Best flour by a dam site”. Needless to say, but I’m gonna anyways, the mill has loads of character. Mile long leather belts drive majority of the machines and I’m gonna stop plugging Arva Flour Mill. I just love that place. So it’s a great place to start the unwinding phase of our trip. We play careers, BBQ, fish off the dam and get in the way down at the mill.
Ok, so, as we’re waiting to load ship and move on we get a call… It’s my care worker. She was asked to take the van in for a quick polish, inside and out. She’s now in a drive through car wash that’s shorter than the van is tall. Something along the lines of “I cracked the roof of the van and water is coming in!” comes across the phone… Great. Just great. It’s one of the calls you don’t want to get halfway across the country. Along the lines with “good morning, this is officer….” or “we don’t actually know what’s wrong with your power chair.” or “I just cracked the roof of our ride home and now it’s filling up with the nectar of life.” (no not Bolthouse, water.) Obviously we’re excited to see the extent of the damage. Kinda like x-mass when you know you’re getting coal.
She shows up and it’s thankfully just the sunroof not the entire roof that’s ruined. The good family I have do a quick patch job and we’re off to the lake.