Bob’s self-service chassis wash

Bob’s directions to his camp included a warning there was a pond to cross. It sounded dicey, but he said the greenhorn traveling with him had made the crossing okay.

As I approached the pond (a wide spot in a creek, actually) I couldn't tell how deep it was and I didn't feel like wading in to find out. But I remembered the basic water crossing principles: Build up speed, maintain momentum, don’t try any fancy steering because it will kill momentum. Besides, the others had made it across.

I got a run at it and FLOOSH! Water went flying up in front of me like I was driving a snow plow. Hoo-yeah! Just like commercials for 4x4 trucks! (Is someone capturing this for me in super slow motion?) Except the Rolling Steel Tent isn’t four-wheel drive. And it has mere highway tires. So my feelings of macho adventure quickly turned to dread. The tires started slipping. Momentum was dying. When it doubt, give it more gas a-a-a-a-a-a-a-a-n-d... The van chugged its way out of the water. Wetter. Cleaner.

So here we are in camp, a pod of white Chevy cargo vans, looking like a service call in the wilderness. It’s a grand life.