Four Country Gals

Part of our dream has been to have more than just dogs… we really would like to again have a horse or two.

Cindy was a really good rider, participating in barrel racing all through high school, and Bev helped her Grandfather a lot when he was raising “sulky horses”. For years, they’ve had to set aside the desire to own, train and ride horses.

But, they’ve got some hurdles. They don’t really know any one yet… and they sure don’t have a barn. Oh, and it’s still winter here… and they’ve got no idea when it will be spring.

Never mind, since Bev is in town regularly, she often stops by the local hardware store… Bracken’s. They have a “local ad board” where she finds a request for “horse rescue center volunteers”.

What the heck… they go check it out.

Cindy and Bev head into Enterprise to visit. That’s all, just visit… well, maybe we could volunteer some hours feeding and cleaning.

Turns out, the gal is starting a “Thoroughbred Horse Rescue Center” as her father-in-law and grandfather breed and raise Thoroughbreds for the racing industry. You know, only a very small percentage of horses ever actually make it to the track… so she’s thinking setting up a rescue would be a good idea.

Within days, it’s really winter again, and thoughts of horses are far from their minds. First, what to do with all this snow! It seems like no sooner is it here… then it is gone… and then back again.

From the middle of February, until the end of March, we’ve had at least four distinct snow storms, leaving as much as 8 inches or so each time. Even our birds are tiring of the routine. Poor little things, they’re just so cold.

Finally, with a 10-day dry stretch, they begin thinking again about the horses. Deena’s having a hard time getting volunteers and she’s thinking maybe it would be better to find “foster homes” for the “racing rejects”.

You know… we’ve got this old shed out along the north property line. Wonder if we could do anything with it? Wonder how much work it would take to modify it for a horse or two?

Oh boy, it’s full of tumbleweed. What’s with all this “heavy metal”? They must have kept something pretty big in here… cows maybe? Hey look… we’ve even got a frost-free hydrant. That will make things really easy… we can just hook up a hose and fill water barrels from here. No time to see if it’s operational, the ground’s still pretty frozen.

Hmm, even if we do get this area cleaned out, we don’t have a corral, or anything to make a corral. We’ll need posts, a way to dig the holes for the posts, fencing (including electric), and God only knows what else.

Electric fence? Now, that’s gonna be fun… we don’t have any power! Oh, wait, we’ve got plenty of sun… we’ll get a solar powered fence charger.

One thing you can say for both these intrepid adventurers, they’re not afraid of hard, physical work. Bev has been steadily regaining her strength, since her bout with the “big C”. Cindy… well, she seems able to work like a horse, day after day.

Remember that big, overgrown Juniper Tam hedge separating the front yard from the circular drive?

Well it’s a haven for all kinds of stuff… garbage from previous owners, tumbleweed that has been blown into the hedge, sand dunes, and untold critters. It’s also incredibly unsightly in Bev and Cindy’s eyes.

What to do? Get ‘er trimmed up. They’ve got Friday free… that’s a good time to “git ‘er done!”

With lopping shears, a hacksaw, a hatchet, gloves, and a large tarp in hand, they set about pruning this monsterous , ugly hedge. Now this thing is nearly 40 feet long, and well over 8 feet thick and nearly 4 feet tall. There’s just no other way to get started than to dive in and find the first unwieldy branches.

By lunch time, Cindy is noticing a rash on her arms. It’s been too hot to wear long sleeves, so they’re both out there in basically t-shirts, jeans and boots. Is it red spider bites? Is it an allergy to something? Is it just an “irritation” from the prickly needles? No time to get too concerned, there’s more hedge awaiting.

So here they are, chopping away, dragging the limbs to the Avalanche so they can haul them to the dump box. The tarp is protecting the truck bed and top from scratches and unnecessary mess.

All of a sudden… ka-thunk! Cindy hits the ground… out cold!

Thankfully, Bev has plenty of first aid knowledge. First things first… call 911!

Long story short… Cindy takes an unscheduled trip to Cedar City, and discovers she’s highly allergic to Juniper.

Where was Shari? Well, she had been in communication with Cindy earlier in the morning and even at lunchtime when she mentioned the rash. All of a sudden, she heard from Bev, just long enough to let her know she was headed for Cedar City behind “the squad” (that’s cop talk for emergency vehicle).

Good news! Cindy was checked out, told to stay out of the Juniper, and released to return home.

So, what about the rest of the ugly hedge? It’s gonna stay where it is for a while, and Cindy’s gonna walk a wide circle around it.

So much for Friday and work in the front yard. They turn their attention to other areas slated for cleaning.

Saturday morning, they’re cleaning more areas, hosing down the outside of the house, so they can get a good look at it’s real color. Little do they know… there’s storm clouds brewing… and they won’t find them in the sky.

About mid-day, there’s suddenly NO WATER! What do you mean no water?

Oh geez! This isn’t possible… the well can’t be dry. The power is on, so that’s not the problem… hmm… now what do they do?

Fortunately, they’d had a well on the island, so they knew the drill… check the pressure tank. Nope, it’s not leaking.

Check the circuit breakers. It looks like everything is in order… That means nothing is tripped. They still don’t know for sure which breaker controls what as nothing has been marked.

Hmm, maybe they’d better call for help. But who? Let’s go ask Bill, the only neighbor we know. Bill provides the name and phone number of the local well driller. That’s a start… sort of.

Uh-oh, well drillers don’t have any responsibility for the well once it’s dug and they find water and case it. Now what?

Pump service? Is that what they need?

By then, it’s Sunday morning, they’ve had no water for nearly 24 hours… and it’s Southern Utah, where most everyone has gone to church.

Compound that with Labor Day weekend… if they can find the pump service dude, it’s gonna be expensive. They’re in luck. It’s now Sunday afternoon and they’ve got a guy coming out to see what’s wrong.

With only hours to spare before sunset, he confirms the problem… it’s the well pump. Oh my God! Does this mean we’re without water for two days… until Tuesday? Things are gonna get ugly here.

He thinks he has a pump that will work, so that’s the good news. He will return on Monday (Labor Day) to pull the old pump out and put the new one in at a depth of 120 feet.

The bad news… pump is over $500 and because it’s a holiday, labor is double time, for another $500 plus. Oh well… at this point, it’s more important to have the water as soon as possible.

Upon checking into the motel Wednesday night, the Inkeeper suddenly realized they had three pretty good sized dogs, and saw an opportunity to extract a higher rental… Well, the girls got all undone. After all, they were pretty much exhausted after the very long day.

They soon struck a deal. No extra charges unless the dogs damaged the room.

The next morning, with Bev and Jim having packed everything, and gotten the three dogs into the vehicles, Cindy stood for inspection in the room… no problem at all. Therefore, no extra charge. However, the shoddy treatment by the proprietor has led Bev to put that place on her “do not recommend” list… to the point of not even providing me the name.

Knowing they’d be staying in Cedar City for at least one more night, they went across the street to the Motel 6, where the folks were very dog friendly, even providing them a first floor room near the door.

After a quick breakfast, it was time to “go exploring”… that means go west on Hwy 56 and find their new home. All that stood between them and their home was one more mountain pass… elevation 6455 feet. Lot’s of history here… but no time to stop and investigate.

Within minutes they crested the summit and began their decent into the Escalante Desert Valley. My God, you can see forever!

They pass the little burg of Newcastle. Significant as this is the home of their local Post Office; that and a Phillips 66 station and convenience store. A couple miles further there’s a sign to the Beryl Rural Fire Dept and a community “dump box” area… oh boy.

About 7 miles down the road, they come to Beryl Junction. Where’s Beryl?

What’s at the junction? This is where Hwy 56 and Hwy 18 intersect. You’ll find the “El Rancho Restaurant”, a small Mexican place, as well as the offices of the local power company, “Dixie Escalante Power Cooperative”. There’s an elementary school, a small community center, the “old school”, and a couple of houses. Oh, there’s also a road maintenance shed including some fuel tanks, and a little roadside picnic area.

A few hundred feet south on Hwy 18 is one of the busiest Goodyear Tire stores in the west… they marvel at that…

Turning right (north) on to Beryl Hwy (no longer officially Hwy 18), they soon find themselves in very unfamiliar territory.

What’s this big dairy? How come everyone looks alike? More about that later.

What was once desert is now a huge patchwork quilt of irrigated circles. Folks are growing alfalfa, hay, potatoes, and corn. There are a couple of “cubing” operations on their right about 4 miles up the the road.

Just past a sign that’s had more than it’s share of bullet holes saying… Blowing Dust, they turn west (4800 N or Antelope Springs Road) and see a fair-sized group of locked mailboxes.

Heading west for about 1/2 mile, they pass a couple of mobile homes. Other than that… nothing but sagebrush, tumbleweed and sand.

Right on to 400 W and they’re new property is on the left of the truck… an expanse of tumbleweed, sand, a couple of pinion trees, a couple of sagebrush bushes… and their new house.

I say “house” as it’s not yet THEIR HOME. With the “double closing” and Bev and Cindy on the road, paperwork had to be “overnighted” to Mom. Yes, she’s on the deed. This process proved to take a little longer than they expected. Mom had done everything correctly… so it wasn’t her problem.

A quick call to the seller confirmed that although they could unload the trailer and store the stuff in the garage, they wouldn’t be able to put anything in the house. That was the advice from her attorney… as long as she was carrying the insurance, the new occupants couldn’t have any access to the house.

No problem… with the trailer unloaded into the garage, they’d have room to haul some new furniture. You see, they’d left their old beds on the island, planning to purchase brand new beds when they got here. Hey, if you’re gonna make a change… you may as well make a big one!

Trailer unloaded, they take time out for pictures… gotta show Shari how far away from “civilization” they really are. From here you can see over 40 miles west, about 40 miles or so north, about 25 miles east and about 20 or so miles south. What a view!

Ok, time to get back across the mountains to Cedar City, a distance of about 45 miles, and do some serious shopping. In addition to the new beds, they add a dining room table and four chairs, spending nearly two grand in the process. At least they’ll sleep well, and have somewhere to eat.

Having arrived at Dad’s barn, they set about gathering the many boxes and other items they’d been moving off the island for the past six months or so. Originally, they’d been packing and storing the boxes in the basement of their island home, but the Realtor insisted they move things off and put an end to any clutter.

So, they moved things three times, from the upstairs to the basement, and then back upstairs out the door, onto the truck, to a rented storage building, out of there, back onto the truck… across the lake to Dad’s barn.

By the time they had stuffed the moving van and 12 foot trailer, all available extra space in both the Avalanche and the Blazer, it was nearly 11 PM. Yikes, and they were still in Ohio!

On the road… no matter they’d been up way before the sun. They must press onward.

They convoyed back to pick up the I-80 Turnpike, and head west.

Somewhere west of Toledo at the Swanton Rest Area they pulled off for much needed sleep.

Every time they stopped and started again, Cindy called Shari. It mattered not that there was a time zone adjustment, or that it might be the middle of the night. So, Shari was called after the vet stop, and then again very late, as they left Dad’s barn.

Very early the next morning, with fresh eyes, they again started their trek… Utah or Bust!

Bev and Jim did most of the driving, with Cindy filling in for short stints. On long boring straight highways, Cindy tended to get drowsy (or is that mesmerized).

From just west of Toledo, they put the pedal to the metal, soon heading into Indiana, through Illinois, Iowa, and into Nebraska. They’d be on I-80 until they got to I-76 just west of Ogallala. Even though they had well over 1900 miles to go, they felt like they’d be there in no time.

The towns and cities became a blur as they raced westward, stopping only to fuel the rigs, themselves, the dogs, and to provide a few minutes “out” for the dogs and themselves.

By the time they stopped for the night in Kearney, Nebraska, they’d gone through most of Indiana, Illinois, Iowa, and half of Nebraska. That’s also four update calls to Shari, who was tracking their progress, as well as keeping an eye on the weather for them.

The found a “dog friendly” motel and crashed for the night, knowing the most challenging section of the trip was still ahead… the drive across the Rockies with the Avalanche pulling a 12-foot trailer.

Up early again and fueled by coffee and a McDonald’s breakfast, it was time to load the dogs, and point their convoy westward.

From Nebraska into Colorado and another call to Shari, they could almost see the mountains now.

With Denver just ahead, the Rockies were in plain view. From Denver, they were just 60 or so miles from the famed Eisenhower Tunnel…

the highest vehicular tunnel in the world at over 11,000 feet. This would officially take them through (rather than across) the Continental Divide.

Now they were on the western side of the Continental Divide, where all the drainage would point to the Pacific Ocean.

Just west of Denver, the weather had turned quite sour on them, with “slushy rain”. That terrible stuff stayed with them all the way through the higher elevations. After that, it was rain clear into Utah. Who’d have thunk you’d run into this kind of weather in August.

Somewhere along the Glenwood Canyon, with Bev driving the Avalanche… the trailer got in a huge hurry to get to Utah. As she was watching the trailer skid along side her left rear tail light, it was all she could do to correct it’s path.

After a quick underwear change at the next rest stop, it was someone else’s turn to drive as Bev took time to recover from her near disaster. Just as soon as they had a cell signal, Cindy called Shari to let her know they’d nearly lost the trailer.

Time out for fuel, refreshments, and a “doggie out” in Grand Junction before pressing forward to Utah… just twenty miles west.

Cindy, who’d never seen much in the way of mountains was in total awe of the beauty and mass of the Rockies. With each turn and slight change of scenery, she’d take another picture.

Would you believe that within less than 180 miles, they had dropped from the “top of the world” at the Eishenower Tunnel into Grand Junction at less than 5,000 foot elevation. No wonder the trailer was in a hurry.

With only 340 or so miles to go, they once again pointed the convoy west, towards I-15 and Cedar City. There they would spend the night at yet another “dog friendly” motel.

As if the drive hadn’t already been tortuous, I-15 was under construction most of the way. Here it was, dark, rainy and now they had the “orange barrel brigade” to keep them on their toes.

It was late, very late when they reached Cedar City. Luckily they had called ahead for reservations. No time for anything but to fall into bed, totally exhausted from the marathon drive, yet anxiously anticipating the next day.

Remember, they had never seen their new home in person.

I had alluded to the fact that “the gals”, without Shari were somewhat familiar with SW Utah. What I hadn’t really said was… they’d made more than one trip to the area. So you really understand, let’s follow their trail over the past couple of years.

In November 2003, with Bev recovering from her bout with cancer (and her hair returning with lots of curls)… Mom, Bev and Cindy had flown to Vegas for a “mini-vacation”. Two days later, Barb drove over and picked them up to stay in Hurricane (just SE of St George).

They figured with Bev retired and on disability, if they were ever to take a vacation… this was the time.

Using Barb’s as a base, they explored the vastness of Southern Utah, even taking time to visit Zion National Park and the Pahrea Movie Set.

Now Cindy, who’s a true flatlander, was absolutely enchanted and fascinated by the mountains. The biggest “mountains” she’d seen were the rolling hills of Ohio. I can only imagine she was like a little kid on the airplane, oohing and aww-ing at the new sites.

Since she’d only ever seen black asphalt or concrete roads, the red rock asphalt paving was a real surprise, too.

From Barb’s place, they ranged about 120 miles or so, and found themselves thoroughly enjoying the scenery, the weather and the people. While sight-seeing, they picked up the “Pioneer Shopper” and soon discovered that land was cheap, really cheap in SW Utah. Had they wanted, there was land available in Hamlin Valley for $100 an acre. Only one minor detail, you’d be living “off grid”, and they weren’t sure they were ready for that.

The second trip, made just two months later at the end of the year was a real house-hunting adventure. Carefully avoiding snowstorms, they drove from Port Clinton to Hurricane, so they’d have their own truck as they looked at a number of properties.

You see, upon returning home, they longed for a change of scenery… permanently.

They found a place to look at in Enterprise. That’s about 37 miles north of St. George. Surprise! Here they’d driven nearly 2000 miles to see a house, and it had gone “under contract” just hours before they arrived.

Now what to do? Look at other options!

They found a place in Hamilton Fort (just south of Cedar City) that looked real promising. It had 20 acres and manufactured house with a log exterior. What a beauty, they thought.

Thinking there’d be no problem selling their lovely property on the island, they made an offer… probably not the best decision they’d make on this adventure.

Now, this was December 2003 and into January 2004, a rather dicey time to be driving across country, especially from Southern Utah northeast to Ohio.

In their new Chevy Avalanche, they felt pretty secure, so racing a major winter storm wouldn’t really be a problem… but wait! The weather forecast was “snow flurries”… at least for the next couple of days.

They’d neglected to inquire about going into 4WD “on the fly”. Having graduated from a Silverado to the Avalanche, they kind of took the 4WD thing for granted. As the snow began to cover the road, and previous tire tracks were being blown away, Cindy reluctantly called the dealership (in Ohio) to ask about putting the Avalanche into 4WD.

Steve their salesman’s first comment was “Utah! What the hell you doing in Utah?” No time to answer that…

“How do I put this thing in 4WD? Can I be moving? If so, how fast?” Cindy inquired.

Laughing, Steve replied, “How fast are you going? See that knob on the dash? If you’re not going more than 55, turn it to 4WD.”

Before you think… silly girls, why not read the owner’s manual? The did… and that part wasn’t explained.

They’d hit snow just north of Cedar City, and would be in 4WD the rest of the way home.

At about Vail, they were caught in an incredible traffic jam. Seems there’d been a real avalanche, as in tons of snow across the westbound lanes of I-70.

So they sat, and from time-to-time, inched their way to the Eisenhower Tunnel, a distance of some 48 miles. To make matters worse, by the time they got to Denver, they were battling freezing rain.

No time for delays, they were attempting to drive straight through to Port Clinton, Ohio as Cindy had to get back to work.

Shortly passed Denver, they decided to spend the night in Limon, hoping for better traveling during daylight hours.

Fortunately, once they cleared Colorado and raced through Nebraska, they’d outrun the storm. Well, kinda sorta.

You see, the ferry boats stopped running the day BEFORE they got home. This was one of those lucky winters where Lake Erie had yet to freeze, so there was still limited ferry service. Knowing this, they drove straight to Sandusky where they’d now fly to the island, leaving their Avalanche on the mainland. No problem, as that’s something islanders did all the time.

Home safe and sound, they set about putting their home on the market.

But first, remember that storm they outraced? Well, it caught up with them , and solidified the idea that living with “little or no snow” would be a wonderful idea.

It’s o’God-thirty, Monday, August 8, 2005, and time to roll out of bed on the island for the very last time.

Everything that could be pre-packed into boxes has been packed. What’s left are the beds, the major furniture, things that won’t fit into boxes, and stuff that is going in the Avalanche, the 12-foot trailer, or the Blazer.

Cousin Jim (another of Bev’s cousins) has arrived and is on hand to help with the final packing and the drive to Utah.

The closings are “in progress”. Paperwork has been “Fed-Exing” back and forth for a few days. Powers of attorney are all in place. Hopefully, there are no kinks in the process. The plan is simple. Get to the mainland. Sign off on the Ohio property. Get to Utah. Close on the Utah property. Fed-Ex papers to Mom as necessary for her signature.

The truck arrived as scheduled along with the moving crew. No time for breakfast or that last leisurely cup of fresh-ground coffee. Fortunately one of the pizza places on the island opened early… Pizza for brunch, on the fly!

By the appointed time, everything was loaded, final good-byes were said, and the ever-on computer was shut down and loaded into the the trailer. From here on, it was “Utah or bust!”

But wait… where was Bree? The dog that was so sick, and all undone about the move?

Cindy and Bev launched a search. There she was… under the house. Uh-oh… this isn’t good.

Well, Cindy took matters into her own hands, crawled under the house, and coaxed Bree out. With just minutes to spare, they raced to the ferry dock one last time to fill their pre-reserved slots on the last ferry of the day from the island.

They’d have about 30 minutes to get to the vet to pick up all the health certificates and have Bree checked out again. She was in worse shape than before and Cindy was really concerned about her.

Unfortunately, the vet didn’t have good news. She had at least one large internal tumor, and wasn’t really getting enough oxygen, as her tongue was blue. The prognosis wasn’t good. She may or may not make the full journey, let alone recover.

You see, the trip route would take the convoy to over 11,000 feet elevation. After some real quick thought and prayer, the decision was to have her make the journey across “The Rainbow Bridge”.

At least she wouldn’t continue to suffer. Bree, we’ll miss ya’. You’re in a better place now.

Sad task done, health certificates in hand, it was time to point the convoy to the next stop… Dad’s farm (barn) where they’d been stashing even more stuff for the past six months.

Shari (the author) was out in Forest Grove, Oregon. Right up until the computer got packed on “the island”, Cindy was providing a “blow by blow” account of everything that was happening.

You see, Cindy and Shari would spend hours chatting back and forth on the computer while they both did whatever they were doing on the computer. Had it been possible, Bev and Cindy would have flown Shari to Ohio to help them drive the vehicles out to Utah… but there were other options that made more sense.

So Shari stayed put, and got very frequent updates. Even when the gals were on the road, Cindy checked in by cell-phone at least when they crossed state lines. Shari also had their itinerary on her computer, so knew about where they were at all times.

Mom, who had lived on the island with Cindy and Bev for the least amount of time, seemed to have the most stuff.

The kitchen was her domain. So, everything in the kitchen was hers. Rumor has it that until she moved in, Cindy and Bev didn’t eat nearly as well as after she got there.

Mom has virtually every uni-tasking tool, toy, and utensil that’s been produced. Add to that all her multi-tasking tools, bake ware, cook ware, canners, mixers, etc., and you could fill a small trailer.

One of Mom’s most favorite things to do before (and even after) she moved to Put In Bay, was to trek down to Amish Country. There she’d find delicious and tempting spices, baked goods, canned goods, etc. Needless to say, she had a pretty good stash of stuff like spices, popcorn, dried fruit, and assorted canned products. All that had to get packed.

She’s also a “crafter”. She quilts, sews, and makes all kinds of little goodies, so more boxes of fabrics, and crafting supplies.

Since Mom was still recovering from the knee replacement, packing everything fell on Bev and Cindy’s shoulders. Mom was the supervisor. If she said keep it… it got packed. If she said “well, I don’t know”… we’ve not found it yet.

A short while before the actual moving date, Mom went to house sit for a dear friend. According to Cindy, that made it easier to pack what was necessary first, and add the other stuff later.

When it came to the “toys and tools” that Cindy and Bev had, well the question was kind of… will we need this in the desert? That means the little lawn tractor with the snowblower attachment stayed behind… not the best decision they made.

Making arrangements to move when you live on an island accessible only by ferry boat or small plane makes life exciting. In addition to scheduling the movers, they had to ensure that the moving vans were waiting dockside on the mainland for the very first ferry of the day.

On moving day, all they’d have to do is seriously move like crazy to get all the household goods packed into the moving van, the Avalanche (with a 12 foot trailer), and the Blazer in time to get off the island via PRE-RESERVED slots on the last ferry boat out for the day. You see, mid week getting on the island was pretty easy… it was getting off with an 18-wheeler that was a bit tricky.

Oh, and they had the dogs to consider…

Right in the middle of the busiest season of the year, a time when ferry space was hard to obtain, Cindy and Bev had been to the mainland more times than they wanted. One of their dogs, Bree a beautiful young Black Lab had gotten sick. She was losing weight, had been unable to keep food down, and was coughing a lot. She really didn’t look good at all.

The dogs, all four of them… well, except for Koda, the pup, were just a bit “undone” about all this packing stuff… They’d never seen such activity. What was going on, anyhow? In turn, each of the dogs made the trip to the vet with Bree, to get their health exams. After all, what they didn’t know was that they were moving… out of state, and way away from the water.

Yikes! This is getting scary.

Here they are… Suddenly they’ve sold their property, and have nothing to move to…

Fortunately they’d been packing for the better part of the last two summer seasons and moving stuff to the mainland. Still, there was a lot to do.

They’d made a couple of trips to Utah over the past two years, so at least they had some idea of what was available, and where to look. Thank God for the Internet, a cousin, and cheap long distance phone service.

Bev and Barb (the cousin) started the search. The criteria… at least 5 acres with a house. The house had to have at least three bedrooms, and a fenced yard for the dogs. Oh… and they really wanted it to have a roof, too.

And, they wanted to avoid things like serious repair issues. Earlier they’d fallen in love with a log house that met their criteria. Upon closer inspection, there were split logs which were going to require thousands of dollars repair.

With time running out, the real estate agent asked if they had considered Beryl.

Beryl? Where the hell is Beryl?

There was a place there that had been vacant for about a year. it was just under 10 acres (9.65 acres) and it had a house with three bedrooms, two baths, a full basement, and a walled-in back yard.

Barb and her hubby drove all the way from St George to the middle of nowhere and checked it out. Their comment… “If we were twenty years younger, we’d have snatched this place!”

These pictures are all complements of Barb, who made sure she got pictures of everything from the front of the house to the full basement. After all, Cindy, Bev and Mom would be basing their decision on the pictures. No time or money for yet another trip to check it out.

Well, no matter if it was in the middle of no-where, this fit the ticket! Offers were made. Counter offers were made, and within just a couple of days, Bev, Cindy and Mom had made a deal to buy the place, as is… almost sight unseen.

Sold!

Whew! Now they could continue to pack and make arrangements for moving.

Remember, they lived on an island… one which was only accessible by ferry boat or small airplane. And… they were packing up over 20 years of stuff accumulated by three women.

What should they do? They had a Chevy Avalanche and a Chevy Blazer to haul stuff. But, only one vehicle, the Avalanche, was set up to tow anything. That meant at the least, they’d have to talk to U-Haul.

Wait, let’s see what a moving company would cost. After all, Cindy was working full-time, Bev was able to pack, but would often tire rather quickly. Mom had gone through knee replacement surgery and was still in the final recovery stages. All she could do was supervise… (more about that later).

Good move to get bids from the moving company. They saved thousands by not using U-Haul, not to mention how much of their own time they’d have used.

So, the packing began…