We have arrived safely in Nashville after almost a month of hiking in Alabama. It really seems like Christmas to us now--we’re home to wallow in the love and blessings of family. We may have even had a little more pep in our step this morning, despite the rain, as we busied ourselves with the routine chores of breaking camp and moving. We were pulling out of the campground at 8 a.m. which is a little earlier than usual for us.
The predictions of rain all day were right on. Funny how that happened. Usually the forecasts don’t resemble what actually happens. Today it did and we drove in rain all day long. But, traffic was relatively light, except for the rush hour through Birmingham, and we were basking in holiday cheeriness so we were having a fine ride even if it was raining so hard we could hardly see the truck in front of us.
Our trip was about 240 miles, but we seemed to be stopping every little bit. First was the stop at the campground office to deposit our hang tags, then the stop at the top of the hill to deposit our trash. Then came the fuel stops. We stopped for gas near Huntsville, we stopped for propane on Music Valley Drive, and another stop for gas to top off the tank at Joelton. As the day wore on, our Holly Jollies began to fade.
We finally made it to the campground in Joelton and got set up in our site. It was an easy pull-thru, but we did have to get out the leveling blocks. It was still raining and the campground is covered in water. By the time Gene got everything hooked up he was soaked. I’m not sure his shoes will be dry by Christmas.
He had checked the electrical post with our little tester, but apparently pulled the tester out before it had time to run through all it’s tests. Anyway, when he plugged it in on the inside after everything was done outside, we got the “ground fault”. The campground manager came out, but after all was said and done, we ended up moving to another site. The second site is actually better, but everything had to be done again, including the leveling blocks. That’s when we got that severe kink in our Holly Jollies.
Never fear--it’s Christmas and our Holly Jollies will be back tomorrow along with the sunshine.
That’s it for today. Thanks for tagging along.
Showing posts with label RV driving. Show all posts
Showing posts with label RV driving. Show all posts
Thursday, December 22, 2011
Sunday, April 10, 2011
Sunday's Adventure
This day did not go like any of our plans were written. This was one of those adventures you really don’t want to have, but you know us. We like to get the most out of every trip.
This story really begins on Saturday afternoon. Just as we were getting off the interstate and pulling into Wal-Mart the “check oil” light started to blink. That’s never a good sign, but at least we were where we were going for the day. We parked and Gene let the engine cool down a little before checking the oil. We had all kinds of oil--it was up to the high mark on the dip stick. Then he started the engine and, behold, no “check oil” light and everything looked good. As a precaution, however, just in case there was a leak, he bought another quart of oil at Wal-Mart to go with the spare we always have.
This morning, we pulled out of Wal-Mart and into the Shell station for gas--filled up the motor home and the car. Ouch. More on that later.
We had decided to only drive about 60 miles toward Great Sand Dunes today. Their weather forecast was not that good so we thought we’d just get a little closer and stay at a campground with full hook-ups to wait for the weather to improve.
We got on the interstate (I-25) northbound and drove 8 miles up to the next rest area. There we called to be sure the campground we had selected was open. Back on the interstate, we drove about 10 more miles when the “check oil” light came on and the oil pressure gauge showed low. That’s never a good sign. Gene immediately pulled over onto the shoulder. After waiting a few minutes for the oil to settle, he checked the oil. Still full.
Gene called the Ford Motor Home hotline and after a few dropped calls and a lengthy conversation, they sent out a tow truck. We sat on the side of the interstate for perhaps an hour all together. During that time, two state police officers stopped to investigate about 15 minutes apart. Satisfied that it truly was an emergency and that we had things under control, they encouraged us to call if we needed anything and they returned to their job of keeping Colorado safe.
Unlike that time in Connecticut when we had a flat on the Everest 5th wheel and the emergency service sent out a mini van driven by a 12 year old equipped with a tire iron, this time we got a real tow truck and a driver/mechanic who knew what he was doing. Although it was a sad sight, he had us hitched up in no time. Then when he dropped us off at the campground, he help us get level. That’s great service. I don’t recommend needing a tow, but if you ever do and you’re in southern Colorado, Kelly is the one to call.
Wish I’d thought to make a picture of our drive shaft being disconnected. That’s never a good sign. Anyway, I didn’t, but that may be the story for tomorrow--where in the world is the drive shaft. Last we saw it was in the tow truck and who knows which truck will come for us tomorrow. We have notes stuck all over the motor home reminding us to ask about the drive shaft.
At this point, we really don’t know what the problem is. After talking with the Ford service tech, they apparently think it’s some sort of warranty issue. That’s good news, cause now Ford is happy to pay for the towing and the repairs. Since we’re probably going to have to be towed to Pueblo, which isn’t just around the corner, we’re happy for Ford to pay the bill, too.
For today, Kelly Towing Service towed the motor home back to Trinidad and we’re in not so fine a campground behind the Budget Summit Inn. It’ll do. We have a great view of the snow-capped mountains and full hook-ups. And Ford’s probably gonna pay the bill for here, too.
I’m sure you’ll agree--life doesn’t get much better. Or maybe this is one of those “box of chocolate” moments.
Thursday, October 23, 2008
Real Men Back Down
Contributed by Gene
We were assigned a campsite just before the curve in the road and next to the fence. It was high drama as Judi tried to back into the site and not take out the fence with the right fender. After she became exasperated, I tried. It was just as hard as it looked. So I tried a new angle. I wiggled and I woggled. After becoming exasperated, it was in the site. Phew. Between the two of us, it only took a half hour.
After having the trailer serviced we were assigned to a new site for our two month stay over the holidays. This time, no fence to clobber with the fender. And the road was wide. And I had a secret weapon. Jack the miner from British Columbia.
We had met Jack on our morning exercise walk. Well, we intended to walk. We ended up talkin' when we shoulda been walkin' (a la Earl V. Shaffer). During our chat with Jack I mentioned I was still no good backing up the trailer. Being a retired mining equipment operator, Jack knew how to back. He gave me this tip: Start backing into the space, then pull forward and straighten up. Go another iteration, pull forward to straighten. The idea is to slowly make adjustments and inch your way around.
This worked for me. Jack goes into our gallery of Helpful Highway Heroes. The shop manager in Mandan ND who personally fixed my pop up when it wouldn't pop up so I'd have a place to sleep that night. Camper Dan (that was the name of his store) in Williston, ND who came to our site and taught judi and I how to avoid the problem with the hitch we'd been having for 1000 miles. And now Jack the miner.
I now have hope that backing will become a little easier, but I never expect it to be easy for me.
God sent me Tom immediately after my backing triumph. Tom backed his 33 foot travel trailer into the site next to mine in one pass. I hear ya, God. Humility is good, and especially appropriate in my case.
We were assigned a campsite just before the curve in the road and next to the fence. It was high drama as Judi tried to back into the site and not take out the fence with the right fender. After she became exasperated, I tried. It was just as hard as it looked. So I tried a new angle. I wiggled and I woggled. After becoming exasperated, it was in the site. Phew. Between the two of us, it only took a half hour.
After having the trailer serviced we were assigned to a new site for our two month stay over the holidays. This time, no fence to clobber with the fender. And the road was wide. And I had a secret weapon. Jack the miner from British Columbia.
We had met Jack on our morning exercise walk. Well, we intended to walk. We ended up talkin' when we shoulda been walkin' (a la Earl V. Shaffer). During our chat with Jack I mentioned I was still no good backing up the trailer. Being a retired mining equipment operator, Jack knew how to back. He gave me this tip: Start backing into the space, then pull forward and straighten up. Go another iteration, pull forward to straighten. The idea is to slowly make adjustments and inch your way around.
This worked for me. Jack goes into our gallery of Helpful Highway Heroes. The shop manager in Mandan ND who personally fixed my pop up when it wouldn't pop up so I'd have a place to sleep that night. Camper Dan (that was the name of his store) in Williston, ND who came to our site and taught judi and I how to avoid the problem with the hitch we'd been having for 1000 miles. And now Jack the miner.
I now have hope that backing will become a little easier, but I never expect it to be easy for me.
God sent me Tom immediately after my backing triumph. Tom backed his 33 foot travel trailer into the site next to mine in one pass. I hear ya, God. Humility is good, and especially appropriate in my case.
Saturday, September 20, 2008
Back Roads Driving is NOT for the Faint of Heart
We started our trip along the scenic US Route 6 across Pennsylvania early from our campground in Gardiner, New York. We had been dissatisfied with the route getting to that campground because the road was narrow, curvy, and in need of some repair. In our driving around this area we had discovered state route 208 which was not far from our campground and it intersected with I-84 allowing us to also miss the awful road New Yorkers refer to as the “New York Thruway”. Since we had driven route 208 we knew there were a couple small towns in which the road narrowed as well as two left hand turns. All in all, 208 was far superior to any of the other options to the interstate.
We were driving along minding our own business and everything was great—the sun was shining, the traffic was light, and all was well in our world. Well, Peanut was a little unhappy but he is always a little unhappy at the beginning of a drive. Our first left hand turn in town had worked out fine. At the second town we were about the 3rd car from the light. In the oncoming lane on the other side of the light was a tractor-trailer. He was also about 3rd from the light. When the light turned green all the cars went on their way. We were on the downhill side of the intersection so we were much slower getting to the intersection than the tractor-trailer. He, without using blinkers to indicate the direction of his turn, made a wide turn facing his left. That was great since we were turning left we continued on toward the intersection. All of a sudden he turned his cab in the opposite direction and swung out all over the intersection and made a right hand turn. Fortunately, we were on the downhill side and had, with the help of gravity, time to stop, but the shock effect was intense.
As luck would have it, we got to town just as school was starting. This is a rural community and children from all over the county come here to learn their ABCs and 123s. There must have been 20 school buses on this narrow, Main Street, as we turned the corner after the tractor-trailer. Our hearts were still pounding when we noticed the paraplegic driving his electric wheelchair along the side of the street in the line of oncoming school buses. Of course, all those buses moved across the yellow line into our lane to avoid hitting this poor man. Once again we were able to stop before anything awful happened.
It is our practice to refuel the truck at times when we don’t have the trailer attached. But today, the cheapest price for diesel was at the TA Truck Stop at the interstate. So we had waited. Now, I don’t know how truckers are paid and I guess it really depends on the company they drive for, but I have noticed that speed seems to be an important issue with most professional drivers. I understand they don’t like RVs coming through the truck lanes at the truck stops because it just slows them down. So whenever possible we try to use the pump designated for RVs at the truck stops. We approached the TA, saw the sign “Cars and RVs”, turned right into the drive and then noticed the sign further down the drive attached to a steel beam over the drive stating, in large letters, “CLEARENCE 12 feet”. We need at least 13 feet. Fortunately, we were out of the road and had room to straighten up in the drive to allow for cars to pass. We got out of the way of others, then tried to collect our thoughts. I got out to look and I felt like we could get under the sign. Gene got on top of the trailer, I got behind the wheel, and we inched forward until it was obvious we wouldn’t lose an air conditioner. Since we know we are taller than 12 feet, we were curious about that sign meant. Perhaps it was the height of the canopy over the pump. Our decision was made, we were turning around and going to the “big boys” pumps.
When we exited the interstate onto Route 6, our troubles started anew. We had 30 miles to travel to our campground in Honesdale. The directions were simple—stay on route 6 to route 191, right on 191 then left on 670 to the campground. Early on in the drive a tractor-trailer pulled out in front of us—this one hauling a light pole. I don’t know how long those things are, but it seemed just to keep coming. We barely got stopped in time. Fortunately, a little further down the road we had a few more stopping feet to our advantage when the lady walked across the street in front of us carrying a baby in her arms. When we got to the junction of 191 the road was closed forcing us onto a detour where we eventually missed our turn requiring a U-turn.
In this 100 mile stretch, all of our driving nightmares had come true. God worked hard all day long keeping us safe. Thank you, Lord! We spent the rest of the day looking for a way to move the Montana over interstates and exploring Route 6 with only the truck.
 |
| Guess it doesn't matter which road goes where since the road is closed anyway. |
We were driving along minding our own business and everything was great—the sun was shining, the traffic was light, and all was well in our world. Well, Peanut was a little unhappy but he is always a little unhappy at the beginning of a drive. Our first left hand turn in town had worked out fine. At the second town we were about the 3rd car from the light. In the oncoming lane on the other side of the light was a tractor-trailer. He was also about 3rd from the light. When the light turned green all the cars went on their way. We were on the downhill side of the intersection so we were much slower getting to the intersection than the tractor-trailer. He, without using blinkers to indicate the direction of his turn, made a wide turn facing his left. That was great since we were turning left we continued on toward the intersection. All of a sudden he turned his cab in the opposite direction and swung out all over the intersection and made a right hand turn. Fortunately, we were on the downhill side and had, with the help of gravity, time to stop, but the shock effect was intense.
As luck would have it, we got to town just as school was starting. This is a rural community and children from all over the county come here to learn their ABCs and 123s. There must have been 20 school buses on this narrow, Main Street, as we turned the corner after the tractor-trailer. Our hearts were still pounding when we noticed the paraplegic driving his electric wheelchair along the side of the street in the line of oncoming school buses. Of course, all those buses moved across the yellow line into our lane to avoid hitting this poor man. Once again we were able to stop before anything awful happened.
It is our practice to refuel the truck at times when we don’t have the trailer attached. But today, the cheapest price for diesel was at the TA Truck Stop at the interstate. So we had waited. Now, I don’t know how truckers are paid and I guess it really depends on the company they drive for, but I have noticed that speed seems to be an important issue with most professional drivers. I understand they don’t like RVs coming through the truck lanes at the truck stops because it just slows them down. So whenever possible we try to use the pump designated for RVs at the truck stops. We approached the TA, saw the sign “Cars and RVs”, turned right into the drive and then noticed the sign further down the drive attached to a steel beam over the drive stating, in large letters, “CLEARENCE 12 feet”. We need at least 13 feet. Fortunately, we were out of the road and had room to straighten up in the drive to allow for cars to pass. We got out of the way of others, then tried to collect our thoughts. I got out to look and I felt like we could get under the sign. Gene got on top of the trailer, I got behind the wheel, and we inched forward until it was obvious we wouldn’t lose an air conditioner. Since we know we are taller than 12 feet, we were curious about that sign meant. Perhaps it was the height of the canopy over the pump. Our decision was made, we were turning around and going to the “big boys” pumps.
When we exited the interstate onto Route 6, our troubles started anew. We had 30 miles to travel to our campground in Honesdale. The directions were simple—stay on route 6 to route 191, right on 191 then left on 670 to the campground. Early on in the drive a tractor-trailer pulled out in front of us—this one hauling a light pole. I don’t know how long those things are, but it seemed just to keep coming. We barely got stopped in time. Fortunately, a little further down the road we had a few more stopping feet to our advantage when the lady walked across the street in front of us carrying a baby in her arms. When we got to the junction of 191 the road was closed forcing us onto a detour where we eventually missed our turn requiring a U-turn.
In this 100 mile stretch, all of our driving nightmares had come true. God worked hard all day long keeping us safe. Thank you, Lord! We spent the rest of the day looking for a way to move the Montana over interstates and exploring Route 6 with only the truck.
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