Amtrak trains are made for Americans. Large. If anyone ever complains about leg room on one, politely, stop him or her from doing whatever it is they are doing, kindly ask to see their side arm (they almost invariably will have one) then turn it on them and use it. Those seats are fucking ginormous, I couldn’t even reach the footrests.

Amtrak, awesome as the seating was, was also, clearly made for Americans. Capitalist. When booking “Free Wi-Fi on Amtrak trains*” clearly, although I didn’t see an asterisk, there must have been one. Reading in very fine print “Except yours, it’s only in business class, for which you can pay to upgrade”. I had allocated the 16 hours or so to get this blasted website up and running…but if you have a grumble at my tardiness, please point it in Amtrak’s direction.

So, Sacramento in the AM, we ride the Graffiti Train and the Urine Bus to our destination. JUCY Campervans USA. We rolled up, watched the Austrians struggle loading their mountains of luggage from the ginormo non-camper van they had rented into the not so ginormo Jucy Champ. But soon enough they were away in their lime green and grape beast. Then there was the German girls, who knew nothing of the insurance bond that had to be on hold on their account and had to figure out what they could afford on their student/mother’s cards. They were sent on their way in their tree frog and aubergine wander-wagon. Then we were up.

We did the necessaries, cards were swiped, no credit limits let us down…hurrah, on to the walk through.

We strode outside expecting a wasabi and plum combo BUT BEHOLD! What a beauteous creature stood before us! None of that day-glo Hi-Viz and Vimto paintwork, but a sleek black and shiny steed, waiting to whisk us away. We were ready to go, the walk through done, our Jucy guide explained how to hoist the tent but said, she couldn’t be bothered, but we can do it if we like. I was all “Fuck it…let’s go” but no, Conny insisted. Crank and wind, as predicted it worked a treat. Right, time to crank it down and hit the tarmac…three cranks and the 4^th turned into a clunk. Oh. Shitballs.

The tent has broken, and we haven’t left. A few hours later, even with a broken tent she is drawing some jealous regards, and with the eager beavering of the on site mechanic, Beauty was ready to ride. And ride she did.

To the snow capped peaks of Luther’s Pass on night one, down the rainy mountain, past the sunny shores of Lake Tahoe with its Blue Jays/Stellar Jays (help Uncle Werner, see photos?!) and chipmunks galore, onwards over Mount Rose (taking a whipping from the hailstones!) to Washoe Lake State park, complete with its interesting flora that I feel must be called Horsepiss Brush. Here I cranked the tent up with some trepidation (first night we slept inside), but no, Beauty was solid as a rock. The showers were sent from the gods themselves and the tent was a wonder to sleep in, only mildly disrupted by a pack of coyote’s on the hunt at stupid o’clock in the AM.

She is a head turner. Everywhere we stop, the locals are asking if “Is it yours? Can we buy one like this? Is it a rental? Where are the beds? Who do we rent it off? etc etc…to be fair, its pretty clear if they took the time to read any one of the 53 stickers emblazoned on her flanks and rear end…but hey, we’ll forgive them that as they are just interested, perhaps blinded by our (by that I mean her) Beauty.

Today was all desert, quite breathtaking to see the salt flats and the vastness of it all with the red rock mountains all the way to Reno and beyond, but really nothing to write about. We are currently at a rest stop, no idea of when I can get the internet once more for long enough. You will know when I do I suppose and this darn website finally goes on line! But I am about to hoist the sail once more and bury my head for the night.