We set off on Saturday before 10 am, expecting to arrive in Bakersfield 4 hours later…a reasonable pipi-stop/feeding/resting lapse for the hounds…and spend the night halfway between home and our destination of Outdoor Resorts in Indio. Halfway down the grade from San Luis Reservoir a light on the “Command Chair” told us that we had low pressure in one of the dualies. I’m not sure how to spell that, but the rig has dual tires in the back, and the inside one…which you can’t even SEE…was apparently low on air.
Eddie assured me, however, that since we have FOUR tires in the back, hurtling down a 6 degree grade at 65 mph did not pose any risk. Nevertheless, he pulled into the first truck stop he encountered in Santa Nella to check it all out. He just had six new tires installed on the rig in December and was aghast that one of them was already leaking at an ALARMING rate, but it turned out to be a loose valve stem. Apparently that’s not so good, but it was fixable and we prepared to drive on.
While having the tire work done (as I naively and happily stayed in the rig and checked my email and Facebook postings to the tune of the compressed air squawks) Eddie chatted with a flatbed trucker who was having a lube and oil change on his rig. This driver's family owns bee hives that they transport around the country to pollinate crops and he was picking up a huge load of hives that had just finished their job in California and he was taking them home to Florida.
About 35 miles south of Santa Nella, after a bit of conjecturing about why bees make wax and honey and resolving to learn more about bee-havior, we felt La Casita’s engine hiccup and Eddie said uh-oh. I hate when he says that. More lights on the Command Chair were showing up, including the STOP ENGINE light. Eddie pulled over. Then he restarted, got back on the highway, watched the ENGINE WARNING turn to STOP ENGINE signal and then the motor just QUIT!
Long story short. We tried to find Roadside Assistance, but diesel engine techs are, in the main, trained to work on tractor/trailers, not RVs. In fact, they won’t touch them. So, after Officer Mello, the young, kind, funny and absolutely charming California Highway Patrol officer knocked at our door and suggested we call a tow truck, we did.
Short story long. It took about two hours for them to load the 40 foot long, 16 ton motorhome on to a Peterbilt tow truck (with 500 HP Caterpillar diesel engine…for those who care) and another hour and a half to SLOWLY drive across the central valley to Fresno.
We unhitched the tow car and Eddie followed as I rode inside the motorhome with the dogs…eating the last half of the Trader Joe’s White Cheddar Popcorn, which would be my supper…as the sun set. The amazing tow truck driver, David, backed us into the RV repair lot, which has electrical and water hookups so one can wait for service (in this case, on Monday).
In lieu of our planned dinner of ravioli and homemade spaghetti sauce we had cocktails (and tried to remember all of the idiomatic phrases we could for what we were doing…drowning our sorrows, wetting our snouts, throwing back a few…please share yours) and went to bed happy that we were not sitting on the side of California’s Highway I5.
Today, Sunday, the first thing we did was go to the sales office of Paul Evert’s RV Country empire to meet our angel, Lynn, who gave us the gate code and special instructions so we could limp in and settle down in their repair lot to wait for service. When I was on the side of the highway trying to find road service she answered the phone and stayed in touch with me throughout the ordeal. That’s another story.
After that, we made the best of our situation…walking and playing with our doggie girls, a great lunch at Sweet Tomatoes salad bar, shopping at Trader Joe’s, washing the tow car, meeting some of the other folks in the repair lot who are dealing with the reeling of the RV manufacturer’s industry, and, tonight, watching The Changeling in the new flat screen and DVD setup that Eddie has engineered in La Casita. After all, it was a great day in beautiful, downtown Fresno.
We may be crippled, but we’re not dead yet!
Hasta pronto!
Lisa
*tour de force (feat of ingenuity)
Eddie assured me, however, that since we have FOUR tires in the back, hurtling down a 6 degree grade at 65 mph did not pose any risk. Nevertheless, he pulled into the first truck stop he encountered in Santa Nella to check it all out. He just had six new tires installed on the rig in December and was aghast that one of them was already leaking at an ALARMING rate, but it turned out to be a loose valve stem. Apparently that’s not so good, but it was fixable and we prepared to drive on.
While having the tire work done (as I naively and happily stayed in the rig and checked my email and Facebook postings to the tune of the compressed air squawks) Eddie chatted with a flatbed trucker who was having a lube and oil change on his rig. This driver's family owns bee hives that they transport around the country to pollinate crops and he was picking up a huge load of hives that had just finished their job in California and he was taking them home to Florida.
About 35 miles south of Santa Nella, after a bit of conjecturing about why bees make wax and honey and resolving to learn more about bee-havior, we felt La Casita’s engine hiccup and Eddie said uh-oh. I hate when he says that. More lights on the Command Chair were showing up, including the STOP ENGINE light. Eddie pulled over. Then he restarted, got back on the highway, watched the ENGINE WARNING turn to STOP ENGINE signal and then the motor just QUIT!
Long story short. We tried to find Roadside Assistance, but diesel engine techs are, in the main, trained to work on tractor/trailers, not RVs. In fact, they won’t touch them. So, after Officer Mello, the young, kind, funny and absolutely charming California Highway Patrol officer knocked at our door and suggested we call a tow truck, we did.
Short story long. It took about two hours for them to load the 40 foot long, 16 ton motorhome on to a Peterbilt tow truck (with 500 HP Caterpillar diesel engine…for those who care) and another hour and a half to SLOWLY drive across the central valley to Fresno.
We unhitched the tow car and Eddie followed as I rode inside the motorhome with the dogs…eating the last half of the Trader Joe’s White Cheddar Popcorn, which would be my supper…as the sun set. The amazing tow truck driver, David, backed us into the RV repair lot, which has electrical and water hookups so one can wait for service (in this case, on Monday).
In lieu of our planned dinner of ravioli and homemade spaghetti sauce we had cocktails (and tried to remember all of the idiomatic phrases we could for what we were doing…drowning our sorrows, wetting our snouts, throwing back a few…please share yours) and went to bed happy that we were not sitting on the side of California’s Highway I5.
Today, Sunday, the first thing we did was go to the sales office of Paul Evert’s RV Country empire to meet our angel, Lynn, who gave us the gate code and special instructions so we could limp in and settle down in their repair lot to wait for service. When I was on the side of the highway trying to find road service she answered the phone and stayed in touch with me throughout the ordeal. That’s another story.
After that, we made the best of our situation…walking and playing with our doggie girls, a great lunch at Sweet Tomatoes salad bar, shopping at Trader Joe’s, washing the tow car, meeting some of the other folks in the repair lot who are dealing with the reeling of the RV manufacturer’s industry, and, tonight, watching The Changeling in the new flat screen and DVD setup that Eddie has engineered in La Casita. After all, it was a great day in beautiful, downtown Fresno.
We may be crippled, but we’re not dead yet!
Hasta pronto!
Lisa
*tour de force (feat of ingenuity)
Posts
No comments:
Post a Comment