Hmmm looking a tad ominous out there
Rain and Taiga jackets – the quintessential West Coast duo. When The Dude and Dame moved to the South Okanagan desert we smugly put the Taigas away in a downstairs closet as relics from our previous sodden life.
Even The Dog won’t go out in this
In an abundance of caution we packed them in the Grey Ghost for those “occasional rain showers in the fall.” Rain, like falling snow, is different each time; soft drizzles, steady downpours, cloudbursts, driving rain – you get the picture.
I have a new one to add to the repertoire, torrential monsoon, occurring only under the following circumstances: a) you are packing up to leave your campsite, b) you have left your awning out c) you have just remarked what lovely weather you’ve been experiencing.
Port Perry campground or the scene of a Stephen King novel
Rain drumming on the skin of the RV is normally a soothing sound as we sit snugly inside, electric fireplace glowing in the corner. But when the sound becomes an ominous pounding, accompanied by an automated warning message blaring from CBC radio about tornado and extreme weather warnings in the area, (and we all know tornadoes are programmed to find RV parks) Plan B springs into action.
‘Wait, maybe things will improve.’
Bike gangs infiltrate Port Perry for the “Ride For Dad”
Turns out Plan B works and we head out two hours later towards Port Perry to avoid the weather now blowing towards our original planned stop at Wasaga Beach, and for a free parking lot overnighter at The Blue Heron Casino. Free overnight camping is a point of pride for long term RV’ers. Websites dedicated to the inner Scrooge abound. As most of you know, The Dude loves nothing better than a good poker game and is inherently cheap, so this stop is right up his alley.
The Blue Heron overnight stop or as the Dude calls it “Pigeonville“
The rhythm of constant travel has resulted in travel Alzheimer’s – the inability to determine what day it is.
The Dame has a special connection to Ontario; her “Pops” lived and passed here. He would have appreciated the irony of the Meanderers driving through a torrential downpour on Sunday to visit his resting place in the tiny, toney village of Kettleby, past brick mansions on vast estates, crisscrossing the countryside to find flowers to bring to the grave and the Dame’s contentment that we had overcome adversity to pay our respects on Father’s Day – except apparently Father’s Day is this week…
I blame it on the rain.
Finally flowers…they wouldn’t miss one of these baskets would they?
The Meandering Maloneys 
Baskets…………..we don’t need no stinkin’ BASKETS.
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Wasaga Beach — spent many vacations there while living at Camp, er, Base Borden.
It’s Tuesday, that’s our answer whenever one of us cannot remember which day it is.
Yeah but rain…….admit it, it;s in your West Coast soul.
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Hmmm Ms. E. I think I will adopt your laissez faire attitude about using an all-purpose day it seems to work well for you two. You’re right in my soul I have webbed feet and glowing dewy skin from the moisture.
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I like your comment on Travelers “oldtimers”. We’re not sure what day it is either. It’s because our brains are fried. We’re at Lake Mead. Out in the desert.. 46c. no shade. A/C works good.!!! Dave says “It’s as dry as an emu’s ass in a dust storm.” Check out “underground weather”. Good forecasts. For us, chance of clouds is 3%.
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Yikes that is definitely eggs frying on the pavement weather. Ominous clouds every second day this part of Ontario…now I know why it gets so muggy here. Happy travels you two!!
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