Before we found a place called Connecticut, we found a place called Hell. For three days we sat in McGeorge's Rolling Hills RV Supercenter parking lot, waiting for a brake actuator in order to drag the beast to New England.
We had power but a limited amount of water, so after the first day we were forced to conduct whore baths in the kitchen sink. Dealing with the sleaze and slime of service consultants and parts people just added to the layers of gunk we couldn't clean off of ourselves.
Finally our part arrived and with swamp ass and a massive migraine we pulled out of McGeorge's and hit 95.
Washington was a mess, as always...but we made it safely thanks to the old man's deft trucking skills. We slept overnight in a truck stop outside Danbury. I was adamant about sleeping fully clothed on top of all blankets in order to avoid contaminating bedclothes with our putrescent funk.
I did manage a smile the next morning when we saw the beautiful fall colors along the turnpike.
Fortunately we found a thing called a shower and I am happy to report that I am now somewhat "clean".
Our surroundings are charged with occult influences and there are endless possibilities for a day trip into devilry.
We've scoured the right route into the abandoned Norwich State Hospital for the Insane...the expedition includes black tactical gear and night vision goggles in order to delude the security guards and state police.
Pictures soon...
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