Truckzilla is here!!!

Last Saturday was another big day for the Finney-Timm household. After an uneventful flight from Sioux Falls and an overnight stay in Dallas, we rented a car and made our way 190 miles northwest to the Texas metropolis of Vernon to pick up our new ride.

Sprocket after completing his post-purchase inspection

Why haul our cookies all the way to the middle-of-nowhere Texas to buy a pickup? Turns out the kind of vehicles capable of hauling our 5th wheel aren't easy to come by. They're wide, heavy and pricey (both to own and to operate). As a result, few dealers carry them, and those who do don't maintain a large stock. After considerable research, Leonard discovered the Ford dealer in Vernon whose management apparently has set its sites on making their dealership tops in the pickup world. (I wouldn't be surprised to find that the number of dual-rear wheeled pickups on the Vernon Ford lot exceeds the population of the local elementary school.)

Not to be outdone by Leonard's research, I, too, have kept busy learning about the RV world. The result? I've discovered that a common practice seems to be naming one's rig. Descriptive monikers like "Big White Beluga" and "The Beast" appear in various RV blogs and message posts. Maybe it's part of the national obsession with vehicles. Maybe it's the result of inhaling too many campfire ashes. Perhaps scientists someday will unravel this mystery. In any case, we're going to take a stab at it and introduce to you the latest tool in our RV arsenal, TRUCKZILLA, a Ford F350 that's four tons and 400 horse power of diesel drinkin' fun!!!

Does this console make my butt look big?

Okay, honestly, I'm not all that excited about buying a truck - more of a Prius girl myself - but when it comes to being able to pull 16,000 pounds of trailer safely through the steep grades of the Rocky Mountains, it turns out that more definitely is better. YouTube is rife with videos of poor slobs who tried to make do with less truck than the situation required and ended up burning out their brakes and engines as they frantically struggled to keep a two-ton vehicle from being dragged backward down a mountain road by a nine-ton trailer. While it might make for interesting cinema, it does not make for fun travel.


Dog hair on the seats? Not on my watch!

So, we're back in Dallas - Leonard, Sprocket, Truckzilla and I - awaiting word on the delivery date for our 5th-wheel.

At least we have Truckzilla to occupy us as we learn the ins-and-outs of its operation. The owner's manual sits on the hotel nightstand as I write this. No doubt it will come in handy in the event of an attack of insomnia.





 

Domiciling in the State of Emergency

When we added Sioux Falls, South Dakota to our repatriation itinerary, Leonard and I knew we could expect cold temperatures and maybe even some snow. What we didn't know was that Mother Nature had in store for the place a crippling storm complete with ice, snow, power outages and business closures. Being the minds-like-a-steel trap folks that we are, we quickly figured this out.

We first knew we were in for some real fun when, upon touchdown of our flight from Houston to Denver, we checked the departures listings for our connection to Sioux Falls and saw that most dreaded of all words in the voyager's lexicon, "CANCELLED." United Airlines' cheerful (not really) customer service rep informed us that we'd already been rebooked on a later flight. After a five-hour delay, a bone-chilling walk outside to the airplane, a glide up a "that's not a ramp, it's a skating rink!" jetway, and a thorough de-icing of the plane, we were airborne.

(As an aside, Sprocket appreciated that little outside stroll as it gave him a much needed chance to relieve himself without risk to Denver International Airport's lovely carpeting.)


Welcome to Sioux Falls!

Once on the ground in South Dakota, we were greeted with an ice-covered rental car along with equally frozen roads. On the bright side, there weren't many other people who were foolish, desperate or, dare I say, stupid enough to drive under those conditions, so we didn't have to fight any traffic.

So what would drive two reasonably sane adults to endure all of this? One word: domicile.

Everyone needs a place to call "home." It affects where you pay taxes and how much you pay as well as where you get a drivers license, vote and get insurance. It even affects costs of cell phone service. The process of claiming this home, in legal-speak "domicile," can be easy or complicated, depending on the state you choose.

In the world of full-time RV living, three states make the list of domicile favorites: Florida, Texas and South Dakota. We chose South Dakota for several reasons, not the least of which is that even after factoring in costs of two trips to Texas (first to clear immigration, second to take delivery on our pickup), we will save a boatload of money on the sales taxes associated with the purchase of our 5th wheel and truck. It's also relatively easy to declare yourself a resident of the state, though state law requires prospective residents to spend at least one night there before doing so. Unfortunately for us, that night happened to fall during what officials here have just declared a State of Emergency.

So, you see, there is a method to our madness. We're not stupid, just cheap!

I've heard of frosted glass, but this is ridiculous!

Tonight's forecast calls for 6-10" of snow, but with a bit of luck and slightly warmer temperatures to melt the roads, we just might have our drivers licenses and voter registrations in hand by close of business tomorrow. I'm keeping my (slightly frost-bitten) fingers crossed.

 

One down, three to go

Our repatriation to the U.S. is complete. We made the trek yesterday from San Jose, Costa Rica to Houston, Texas without incident. It was the first of four airplane rides the three of us will take before picking up our tow vehicle in Vernon, Texas next Saturday.

Everything went fine - no lost luggage, misplaced passports or delayed flights. Best of all, Sprocket - traveling for the next week under the name "Pervis the Service Dog" - performed brilliantly! The little guy, who, under untested conditions, tends to reach a state of nervousness bordering on apoplexy, did everything that was asked of him and more without a single breakdown.

Sprocket enjoys his first rawhide chew after a long flight.

Of all the things we had to deal with in preparation for Friday's flight, the most stressful (for me, at least) was making sure that Sprocket's re-entry into the country went smoothly. I knew he'd be fine, but I wasn't sure just what difficulties we might face dealing with the various airline and customs personnel we would encounter throughout the day.

I am happy to report that the process went off without a hitch. In fact, U.S. Customs in Houston didn't even ask to see the requisite certificate of health I'd been told would be needed to bring Sprocket into the country.

(I confess that this kind of chafed me a bit as I'd gone to some pains and expense to get the damn certificate from our vet in Atenas, Costa Rica.)

We'll spend the next few days hanging out in Houston for a brief respite before heading to our next stop, Sioux Falls, SD. (Let's see, now. Where did I pack those snow shoes?)

Hurry up and wait!

Got Banana?

We're now just 4 days from our return to the United States or, as some of us expats affectionately refer to it, "the old country." After months spending much of our time considering every possible detail associated with making a smooth transition from la vida loca we've experienced these past three years, you'd think we'd be busy with final preparations for Friday's departure. Not so! In fact, it's starting to feel like a case of "hurry up and wait."

Mind you, there will be plenty more to do soon enough. Wednesday, Leonard, Sprocket "the Wonder Dog" and I end our stint as house sitters for our friends at Boomers Offshore in Playa Hermosa, Guanacaste (NW Costa Rica on the Pacific Ocean) and make the drive back to our apartment in Atenas where we'll do laundry and clean out the refrigerator, mostly to get rid of the food that's been rotting during this, our last fling at Hermosa.

Thursday, we'll finish packing, run a few last-minute errands then hand off our 2005 Toyota RAV4 for safekeeping until its new owners arrive in Atenas in a few months.

Friday, the three of us head to Juan Santamaria International Airport in San Jose to board a United Airlines flight to Houston, Texas for the first in a series of travels that will take us from Texas to South Dakota back to Texas then to Arkansas, all so we can arrange for drivers licenses, vehicle plates, and, incidentally, pick up our tow vehicle and RV.

Just thinking about it makes me tired. How nice it is to know that I don't need to be anywhere just this minute. Plenty more to do and write about later. Right now it's time for a little poolside siesta.