Pandemic Summer (not) on the Road

 June, July and August, a pandemic summer spent in semi-isolation on an "island" called Volunteer Village.  We are in about a 40 acre compound comprised of 10 well-spaced campsites, a meeting room/weather shelter with full kitchen and everything you need to prepare a banquet, a screened-in pavilion with BBQ pit, and a garage/shop loaded with power tools and grounds maintenance equipment.  In fact, that has been the big thing to do all summer, mow The Village.  All this behind a secure gate about a half-mile away.

Being where we are, staying isolated does not take a lot of effort but like everyone else, it takes a lot of patience to go from day to day with little to no variety in our routine.  We did pick up one of the summer routine jobs as a volunteer though.  One night a week we are radio dispatchers and help-line operators.  With the campgrounds open there are rangers on duty until 10:00pm and we are their radio dispatchers from the time everybody else goes home at 4:30 until 10:00.  We have the front desk, which has been closed to the public since March, all to ourselves.  Answering the radio calls from the rangers is usually pretty dry stuff but taking calls from the public on the help-line can be, shall we say, entertaining.  Even though it has happened several times I am always shocked at the callers that ask me where they are and how do they get to campground so-and-so from there.  Do they think we have a geo-tracker on them or can triangulate their phone??

I think the break in activity for volunteer work came just right for a personal project.  Our daughter and son-in-law bought a travel trailer last fall and what they thought was going to be okay for parking turned out to be problematic. 

Our daughter's family travel trailer parked with us while parking pad being built.

There is a spot adjacent to their driveway that is the perfect size for parking the travel trailer and leaving the driveway free to use for day-to-day activity.  The problem was that when weight was placed on this spot it turned into a bog.  The trailer, over time, nearly sank to it's axels.  When I backed my truck up to it to take it to our campsite in The Village, it did sink to the axel on one side.  Thank goodness my other wheel was still on concrete. This little parking area was going to need some sculpting and soil improvement, i.e. lots of gravel.

The trailer sat on our campsite several weeks while waiting for an equipment rental company to open.  Once they did we jumped on renting a Bobcat and got busy reworking the grade.

Bobcat loaded and ready to go to work.

Getting the approach to the parking pad prepped.

At first we thought a Bobcat might be a little over-kill for the job but once the grading started it was clear that the Bobcat was a minimum requirement. 

I don't have any "after" pictures but it was a good job and we got the travel trailer home to its owners.  They got it plugged in and while the kids explored our daughter was installing all the custom things she had been accumulating for making the trailer serve them for the way they camp.

They're already making reservations for Jekyll Island and Red Top Mountain for the fall.

Other than a couple of the above spurts of things to do this summer there really was not much to do.  The bulk of our time was trying to manage the thermal gain of our 5th wheel.  The full length of our 37' is broadside to the sun.  We get full sun from the time it comes up until it sets.  Even with our two 15,000btu air conditioners the temperature rises to an uncomfortable level in mid-afternoon.  We have devised a strategy for fan placement that improves circulation and helps it feel like it is a little cooler as long as you don't do anything exerting.

Our original plan for our stay at Allatoona Lake Volunteer Village was to winter over and hang out until our grandson's first birthday in March.  Being exposed to full sun all day long was a great thing, we only ran heat during the day on the coldest days.  But March came and so did the lock-down.  Our opportunities for a summer volunteer position at high elevation, and cool summer temps, evaporated.  We stayed put (thankfully the COE did not shut down its volunteer operation) and are bemoaning the heat.  But not begrudging, we have a place to stay, many fulltimers are seriously scrambling to find someplace to stay.

The Repetiveness Continues

 By the end of April 2020 the Corps of Engineers in the Mobile district had decided to open campgrounds, albeit with covid-19 restrictions.  The campgrounds were to open in May with shields over the registration windows, just a small slot at the bottom for the gatehouse attendant to pass the camping passes through.  No reservations were done at the window, every camper had to pre-register online and pay in full by credit card, in advance.  The gatehouse attendants had already gone to credit card only transactions last year but this year they were instructed not to even do that.  Paper work would pass one way, from inside the gatehouse to the outside and that was it.

Normally this would be a very busy time for me as I provide tech support for all the gatehouse attendants use of the reservation system.  But with their interaction with the reservation system being little more than checking a box to check people in and check them out, I am not getting any calls at all.

Now that there is a better handle on things the Governor of Georgia has lifted the shutdown on almost everything.  "Main Street" has opened, with restrictions, as have restaurants and even gyms.  I have not rushed out to use the gym just yet, still feels a little risky.  But we have taken advantage of restaurant openings.  We have not had any Mexican food since late February and we hit our favorite spot within a couple of days of opening.  Very limited seating and we had to look up the menu on our phones as well as wear masks any time we were not at our table eating.

For most people reading this post I can imagine you are saying; "Yeah, so?  Might as well be reading about myself."  We've all been restricted in our movements and activity, we've all seen way too much TV, especially covid-19 news and political stuff (well, it is hard to not look at a train wreck).  But this is a blog about full-time living in an RV.  There is no fallback living option, no house to return to, we have to figure out how to make our nomadic lifestyle work in an environment we never thought of building a contingency plan for.

Our plans for 2020 were to be in Georgia for our grandson's first birthday at the end of March and then move west (somewhere where the elevation was above 8,000 ft) and enjoy a cool summer.  We had a few volunteer positions that looked promising, that is until the pandemic hit.  State and federal operations shut down all across the country.  Private campgrounds bucked the trend and most stayed open, however they were inundated with folks like us that had been put out by the shutdown where they were.  It was a  rough few months for some of our brethren to find a place to drop anchor.  We consider ourselves extremely lucky that the Allatoona Lake operation made the conscious decision to leave their volunteers in place to ride out the pandemic.  This has been a huge weight off our shoulders.  We'll gladly bake in Georgia summer heat and humidity instead of being cast adrift.

Fortunately Cyndee and I were able to pick up a few odd jobs to occupy our time.  There were several photography assignments.  The one below was an annual event; Wear Your Life Jacket to Work Day.

Wear Your Life Jacket to Work Day 
photo assignment.

It was weird doing this with a mask on everybody but that is how it was.  And this was only about half the staff.  The others had been furloughed or were on a staggered work schedule.

One of Allatoona's day use parks is Riverside.  It lies just below the dam on the south bank of the Etowah River.  It is also home to one the top ranked disc golf courses in the country.  In June an annual tournament was held and I was asked to photograph the event.  There was not a mask in sight (it was still a little early in the pandemic and recommendations for masks in dispersed outdoor conditions were not being promoted yet).  However gatherings of large groups were being strongly discouraged so the event went to a timed registration, having no more than a couple people at a time at the (outdoor) registration table.  The bar-b-que and picnic were also canceled.  It was a pure disc golf only day.

This simple map belies the ruggedness of the course.

Hole 4
The basket is up the side of a mountain and in the mouth of a cave.

 I took several hundred shots this day, all with a long lens.  Most golfers didn't even know I was there.

You have to be part Billy goat to play this course. 

Up here in North Georgia one is in the worn down section of the Appalachian Mountains, some call it the toe hills.  In fact, the Appalachian Trail terminus is a short drive away.  These mountains may be short but they are mountains none-the-less.  And when you are playing the Riverside Disc Golf course your legs are affirming it is a mountain course.

As time passed Cyndee and I got more opportunities to do work in isolation.  Several things around the project are/were in dire need of a fresh coat of paint.  We got asked to tackle the worst first.

Trail overlook deck, before.

There are a number of trails around the Allatoona project but there is only one that has an overlook with a deck.  For some reason people think this is an invitation to spray paint their satanical beliefs and political commentary over every square inch of deck surface.  We lugged all our supplies and equipment up the relatively short distance to the overlook and put in several hours getting down enough coats of paint to cover everything.

Trail overlook deck, after.

After spending a good deal of time on our hands and knees digging debris out of the gaps in the floor boards and then using a small brush to paint down in those gaps the day had turned from pleasant morning temps to stifling hot afternoon temps.  Even though the walk out was downhill it proved to be tougher than our uphill walk in.  The old knees and back just aren't happy about being abused like that anymore.  But at least we were not sitting in front of a TV.

I guess somebody in the front office liked our deck painting job because two weeks later we were requested to paint all the metal doors on the outbuildings at the Project Management Office.

Cyndee painting one of the three garage doors at the 
Corps of Engineers Project Management Office.

 Paint was peeling pretty bad on all the doors (three 12 x 12 roll-ups, four walk-thrus) so we had to wire brush every surface top to bottom before we could start painting.  But once we got going it went pretty smoothly.  When we were down to our last door our Volunteer Supervisor came out and asked how much we had left to do and when we told him we would be done within the hour he stood there for a moment and said; "Dang, I thought this would keep y'all busy for at least a couple of days.  Now I got to find something else for you!"  But since it had become really hot again we said; "Nah, we're good, unless it is in front of an air conditioner."

So, with the exception of a few brief jobs our next six weeks were a lot like our first ten weeks of the pandemic.  Although we did get a little more organized about our TV watching and got in on some episode 1's of marathons of series we used to watch.

Wash, Rinse, Repeat

 In my previous post we had just been told to self-isolate in the Volunteer Village here on Allatoona Lake.  The United States Army Corps of Engineers district headquarters in Mobile, Alabama had initially gone into full lock-down mode, closing all public interfacing operations.  At the beginning, Rangers were still reporting to work but then there were some virus outbreaks at some projects (for instance the whole staff at Lake Lanier) and they soon switched to staggered office hours and teleworking.  Us volunteers were again instructed to keep our distance from each other and stay put in The Village.  And for twelve weeks that is what we did, almost.

While the campgrounds were going to remain closed beyond their traditional opening day there was still preparation work that needed to be done so that when opening day did come the gatehouses would be ready to operate.  And that was lucky for Cyndee and I.  We had been assigned to install all the computers in the seven gatehouses on Allatoona Lake.  We were able to do this in total isolation with the exception of having to pass through (wearing masks) a mostly unoccupied building to get to the storage room for the computers.

The Volunteer Supervisor in late April coming to
The Village to reinforce our continued isolation.

Daily life in the first twelve weeks for us has been essentially the same for us as it has been for everyone in large metropolitan areas.  Everything but essential businesses are closed and our trips outside The Village are limited to grocery stores and fuel stations.  We are taking advantage of the "old people" hours and do our grocery shopping at 6:00am.  In addition to the reduced exposure because of the small number of people at this hour we also benefit from being the first to have access from overnight stocking.  It has been less difficult to obtain items that are in critical shortage.  Regardless, we are still rationing those hard to find items.

Another significant change we have noticed is that we are practically buying no fuel for our vehicles.  The truck sat for nearly a month without being driven and our little SUV has just been to the store and back.  I actually started the truck and did a loop around town just keep all the moving parts lubricated.  Fuel prices have also plummeted but so what, nowhere to go, nothing to do.

So most days are just rise, watch TV, take a walk through the closed campground adjacent to The Village, watch TV, FaceTime with the kids/grandkids, watch TV, go to bed.  Repeat.

Although it wasn't all TV watching, Cyndee and I both knocked out a slug of books.  Five of the ones I read were over a thousand pages each.  I rediscovered how much I enjoy using my Kindle.

By May healthcare workers across the U.S., indeed the world, were suffering from burn-out and feeling un/under-appreciated.  Densely populated areas saw healthcare worker appreciation flyovers by various military aircraft.  Bombers, fighter jets, precision drill teams, etc. flew a planned route that would take them over a number of the larger hospitals of metropolitan areas.  Even though we are on the outer edges of the Atlanta metropolitan are we got our own flyover.

The Volunteer Village is on the west end of Allatoona Lake and the town of Cartersville is adjacent to the west end of the lake.  A flight of two C-130's from Dobbins AFB in Marietta, GA made a pass over, among other small towns, Cartersville.  I was able to get a long-range shot of them passing over the Etowah River Valley as they departed Cartersville.