When the snow turned back to rain, we knew the cold front had passed and our water would not freeze. What a relief. I (Bob) get a tad tense at the prospect of a night of alternately running the furnace until the batteries are deplete, running the engine to charge them up again, and perhaps running out of propane. We’ve had a few nights like that, and the memory is not pleasant.
We were got a pleasant surprise when a Paul, from a neighboring motorhome, recently arrived from the pass, came by to invite us over for before dinner libations. We figured they had a bout with the snow, and needed a drink; we certainly did. Paul introduced me to his long time friend John, who set out to make our drinks and introduce himself. We found we had in common time spent in Laos and Vietnam. He didn’t specify which branch of service he was in, but we guessed it was the one that is secretive. After several, appropriately vague, stories about his ventures there, we shared our experiences being lost in Laos on the spider’s web of the Ho Chi Minh Trail, and we could tell he knew all about the anti-personnel “bobmbies” that scared us.
Some of his memories were unwelcome, and had lingered for 40 years. When we made clear the Lao people held no grudge about the war years, or even the continued problems with the bombs, I think it was something he needed to hear.
Paul is a lot younger than Bill; they met through one of their wives, and have been fishing and RVing buddies for years. They were going on a fishing trip to the east side of the Sierras, when they were turned back by the storm, which had closed the pass not long after we came through.
We enjoyed their company, as we do all the RVing people we meet, and said goodnight reluctantly.
We saw them leave in the morning, and hope it was for a fine week of sunshine and full creels, because Bill is fighting cancer, and because they both deserve yet another fine RV trip, and many more.