Durham to Asheville

     The crew is in Asheville, NC now, still trying to get our bearings.  We arrived in town around 3am a couple days ago, and the trip was no less eventful than usual.  We smelled the brakes sticking right after Max and Jay switched driving duty, pulled off, put the blocks down and Max wriggled behind the front wheels to see what was up.  He and Jay thought it must be the pedal, which had started feeling sticky in the past week.  Called my uncle Smokey, mechanic extraordinaire for his thoughts and suppositions, and he confirmed that probably all that was needed was a lot of WD40 in that pedal.  Additionally directed Max to the spot a mysterious bolt has dislodged a couple days back...the starter.  Starters only have two or three bolts keeping them attached to the engine, so we are much relieved to have it back in place. 

    We're struggling to find a place to park the house in Asheville.  The street was okay for the first night in residential West Asheville, but neighbors weren't too keen on us staying after that first day as construction vehicles were trying to pull into a driveway right across from our spot.  We made some new friends that day...Forrest lives on an International mid-size green bus, currently in his friend's mom's front yard around the corner from whee we were the first day.  Elan has spent a lot of time on sailboats so can relate to the lifestyle.  They both put their heads together and found us an abandoned driveway around the corner where we stayed the second night.  Most of the crew hung out around a fire near Forrest's treehouse and shared stories and wine late into the second night.

     That night we ran out of water for the first time and the water pump mysteriously wouldn't turn off.  Max had to remove the fuse so it wouldn't drain the battery, and in the time he spent down there noticed a bulging septic holding tank.  A dump was imperative...we'd lost track of how much water we'd used, and apparently the greywater isn't separate from the septic as we'd thought.   That brought us down to Wilson's RV Park on the bank of the French Broad River yesterday.  The drive down the steep hill of Peace Street was a little nerve-wracking but the airbrakes held true. 

     The site turned out to be a beautiful calm spot to regroup.  Moved the dish operation outside (one soapy bucket, one fresh for rinsing to give out holding tank a break, Max got in touch with an old friend who may be able to help us find work in the area with local farms, and then Max and Jay and I walked six miles or so into town to check things out.  So tired once we arrived that it was about all we could do to get ourselves some food and do the necessary grocery run.  And of course, just as we were beginning to dread the walk back, a friendly looking pink-haired lady and her really funny companion Jeremy asked one of us for a light and ended up giving us a ride home.  Serendipity just keeps happening to us.