Living Among the Lost Tribe

This morning we got a knock on the door from a fellow traveler. Yesterday the guy came roaring into the camp ground with his old motor home. First impressions are not always good. However the guy turned out to nice enough. The gentleman was delivering a note from another camper that left. During the conversation he said he had five thousand rounds of ammunition, and more guns than anybody. This must have come up as Cissie discussed the probability of his camper blowing up because of his massive propane storage. We are parked about two hundred feet away, so the explosion will be fun to watch if it happens. All that ammunition is of some concern, so we may move if a fire breaks out. For some strange reason he has equipped his camper with what he calls a drag racing engine. Why one would want to do that is a puzzle, but strangeness becomes normal around here. It is raining like crazy here and we are at the very point where the Verde River enters the Salt River. Ned up in Rimrock says a massive amount of water is coming right our way. We may have to make an emergency exit if the river comes up quickly. And that is the way it is on the Salt River.