Annie feels sheepish, but she didn't do anything baaad. She has nudged, prodded, insinuated, and flung the Duck into the most amazing places you can imagine, and in twenty-one months, this is the most intractable problem she has encountered. And, she tracted it anyway.
Joe the Towman Taylor (not his real name) is a nice guy. Born in Queens, raised in Tucson. He wanted to stay until we got the Duck into a parking space for the night. He said, "In case you get stuck again, I'm already here." You see his point, so we didn't get up on our high horse. He helped us get reasonably level before he would leave.
We have Coach-Net. Good Sam is another alternative. I'm not saying one is better than another (although AAA has a bad reputation amongst RVers). Here's the skinny for boondockers: Coach-Net restricts service to ≦ 100 feet from a "maintained" road. Neither of them knew what that really is, but Annie provided a street address and that worked.
I knew I should be worried while we waited, and I do worried like a pro, but all I could think about was how beautiful it is here. I stared at a rising half-moon in the cloudless afternoon sky and I couldn't be tense. More, please.
Allison asked us for the location of our last Tucson BLM boondocking spot.