All of Our Toes are Falling Off
The hardest part about RVing with the Hoyts is the fact that Amber consistently has perfect hair. Bobbing in a crater swamp? It’s a perfectly angled full topknot with exactly one curly tendril hanging down. Fresh from the shower? It obediently dries into perfect curls and waves. Last minute ponytail over breakfast? Not a strand dares misbehave. Meanwhile, the four frizzy Jack Nicholson-esque hunks that hang limply from my head fight to escape from the ponytail holder I found stashed in Petey’s pillowcase.
Not only does she have perfect hair, but she also knows how to operate on toes on a picnic table. Petey complained all day about a sore toe, which I ignored until she produced a throbbing purple toe mid dinner last night. I recoiled, Amber fetched a bowl of warm water from somewhere for Petey to soak it in, and while I made s’more crescent rolls she excised most of an ingrown toenail.
This morning I woke up in our perfect bed at the perfect temperature on the perfect pillows after another amazing night of sleep. At home I am lucky if I manage four hours of quietly sweating into a cesspool of my own making. In this RV I float away on the wings of recreational vehicle angels for uninterrupted slumber. Evan has started trying to find the mattress on the internet to order it, because apparently I am a little nicer this way. I put bacon, eggs, potatoes, peppers and cheese into pie tins, covered them with foil, and then let the foil catch fire on the grill until I was too scared to let it continue. The result was a breakfast casserole that Zack is convinced may ultimately kill him.
After that it was time to tuck my four strands of hair into a high ponytail and convince Evan to go for a run with me. We are at the most gorgeous RV park in the nation, surrounded by green mountains, which is run by the most earnest young man we’ve ever met. Preston, with his sidekick Cash, prides himself on a spotless park. We didn’t even see bugs because I don’t think they were allowed. The bathrooms were cleaner than mine at home, the hot water plentiful, the fire pits lit every night. The plants were freshly tended and if we need a quick ride to the store Preston would be happy to get his personal truck and help out. He drove around all day in a spotless golf cart making sure all of his people were happy and cared for.
Anyway, it was a great scene to haul Evan out for a jog.
Much like he was last year, Evan is at the crucial point in his cross country season where he has upped his mileage enough to flare up some knee and foot pain. Also like last year, I am handling this by repeatedly telling him his is fine and lecturing him about his shoe choices. We took off around the park on a slow jog, me encouraging him to jog it out and him openly wondering if Mark and Amber would just adopt him. He lasted a mile with me before he pulled off to limp home, leaving me to run my last mile through the mysterious ADULTS ONLY section of the park. I was super excited to get behind the high walls and see what when on in here. Whatever high hopes I had for a scandalous Shangri La discovery were dashed when a man who looked alarmingly like Johnny Cash explained that it really just means 55 and older. He did have a satisfying dog named Luna that was available for petting, so that took the sting out a little bit.
We made another Walmart pitstop, because yes. Again, no one in masks and people everywhere. I tried to buy another bottle of amaretto for the amaretto and ginger ales I’ve been filling Zack with every night, but when I asked where the alcohol was the worker directed me to health and beauty…… for the rubbing alcohol.
So Utah.
We landed at Knotty Pines park outside of Kamas, where it was immediately clear we were no longer under the safe haven of Preston’s rule. This is a more trailer kind of trailer park. Gigantic families of ten or more children inhabit the center of the park, while people in motorcycle cuts that Zack swears are members of the Vagos gang inhabit the outer edges. We are squarely in the middle, geographically and emotionally, in this West Side Story showdown.
A while ago Saturday night life ran a fake commercial for an Alexa style device for boomers. You could yell anything remotely close to Alexa at it and it would respond by patiently explaining things. My favorite was this exchange:
“Alize! What are them kids doing?”
“They are just playing.”
“Hmmm. I don’t know bout that.”
I love it, because that is how Zack responds every time I try to deescalate him about anything. Pulling into this park he became immediately concerned that the dogs appeared more ominous.
“That was is pulling at his chain. He’s growling”
“He is not. His tail is wagging.”
“Hmmm. I don’t know bout that. Look how mean that one over there looks.”
“The puppy?”
“Hmmmm”
When he stopped the RV I stumbled out and performed my dumbest move to date. A large metal picnic table was situated between our parking spots and for no apparent reason I decided it needed to be moved. Fueled by either rage at having to defend so many innocent dogs or the fact that my doctor recently upped my testosterone dosage, I Hulk dragged the heavy table with such force that I yanked it exactly up and onto my toes.
Limping inside the RV with blood pooling in my sandal I was met by the girls who reassured me that Amber could most certainly fix it. I’m pretty sure it’s broken, but I am more concerned that I can’t remember the last time I had a tetanus shot.
If you are playing along from the safety of your homes, this is 3 out of 4 Burns with some sort of foot damage. We are mess. The Hoyts are going to be piggy backing us around Park City tomorrow.
Once we all had fresh band aids we rented ATVs and headed out for a day of fishing and stand up paddle morning. This is the most beautiful land I’ve ever seen. If you have never had the opportunity to off road through the state parks in the Kamas, Utah area – we highly recommend it. The forests are amazing, the water clear and stocked with rainbow trout, and we are clearly in bear country. We saw deer, buffalo, and actually drove through a herd of sheep. An actual herd. One with a shepherd and four real live dogs guarding the flock. These goodest boys ever lay in the grass keeping a close eye on their charges, only moving to explore nearby and make sure none had wandered off.
Safe to say that if that shepherd had not been there we would now have both a sheep herding dog and a baby lamb in this RV right this minute.
While the ATV ride was beautiful, it is also filthy. We came back to our not-Preston-run campground and barreled through a baseball game played entirely by matching blonde children. Evan was stunned to realize that they were all siblings. Amber rustled up BLTs for the kids while I panini’d some paninis in the sandwich press I insisted on ordering. Everyone is exhausted and dirty. My hair is crunchy. I’ve seen what lies in the campground bathrooms and so I am going to languish in the no water pressure of the RV shower. I fully expect that when I undress clumps of dirt will fall to the ground.
I miss Preston.