Oh no, I hear you say. What’s wrong with these people?
As disasters go, it wasn’t our most terrifying ordeal, but still:
“That doesn’t look right.”
“What?”
“The runner. Look. It’s cracked.”
After a lunch time stop at a rest area, Jimmy made one of his routine equipment checks. Our rear slide/bed-in-a-drawer rolls into the body of our trailer when we’re bouncing along much like a drawer hung on wheels with two metal runners screwed to the ceiling.
The weight of the bed had ripped the runner off the ceiling. It was bent and cracked but the screw was still firmly in the ceiling, achieving nothing, a bit like us standing there staring at it with our hands on our hips.
If the runner broke the bed would drop onto the dinette and sofa rendering all three unusable. Our already bijou living space would be reduced to a galley kitchen big enough for one and a quarter people, a closet bathroom and one bed, with all our vital paperwork, including passports, and half our pantry supplies trapped under the immovable slide.
To make matters worse the vital screw was in at an angle and the rigid runner was bent just enough so the screw head was not visible.
In other words, instead of the runner, we were screwed.
With limited headroom and the screw playing peek-a-boo under the runner Jimmy stood on the dinette seat and bent over backwards while my arms threaded through his to pull on the runner. We looked like a vertical game of Twister. I had visions of his foot going through the flimsy fiberboard under the cushion and breaking his ankle on the toaster in the drawer underneath.
The idea was to put a washer on the screw and screw the runner back to the ceiling, thus taking the strain off the crack. Easy. Except . . .
“I can’t see it!”
Eventually I am kneeling on the kitchen counter with my head forced over by the ceiling and my neck at snapping point. I can pull the runner across, see the damn screw, engage the screwdriver in the screw head, it’s in! and hand over to Jimmy to grunt and twist the screwdriver with all his might.
But the screw wouldn’t turn.
He took a big breath and “erghhhhhhh!” The screw still wouldn’t turn.
Another big breath and “ERGHHHHHHHH!!!!” The screwdriver popped out of the still stationary screw head stripping the vital cross head a little. My advice to push up on the screwdriver was rewarded with one of his oh so withering looks.
After half a dozen attempts to turn the screw, Jimmy was gasping, drenched in sweat and shaking with the effort and bloody awkwardness of it all.
“What were you grunting for?” he accused me between gasps of breath.
“You try kneeling on the counter with your back arched and your neck breaking and face smashed on the ceiling while pulling with all your might and see if you don’t grunt!” I snarled back at him.
This graceless exchange seemed not to give offense to either party, simply vented a little frustration.
I had also knelt painfully on a varicose vein which I had suddenly developed the week before while playing with my new hula hoop.
After a few successful twizzles ‘round my waist I thought I was twelve years old again and tried to hoop around my knees. It immediately dropped below my knees, twirled on a perfectly sound piece of leg, upset a vein, which then popped up angrily to complain at my stupidity.
The purple lumpy mass looked ready to explode and scared me half to death. I spent the next two days with my leg raised and a cold gel pack on it to sooth the vein back down. Idiot.
Reduced to a bruise on my leg the vein didn’t appreciate my kneeling on it so I half knelt, half lifted myself on the other leg, arched my back, squashed my face on the ceiling, pulled the runner to line it up with the screw and grunted. Who wouldn’t?
We tried again. And again. Several more times. The screw wouldn’t budge.
“We’re in the middle of nowhere.”
“Yeah.”
“These rough California roads have caused the problem.”
“I know.”
“You know we can’t push the slide back in now.”
“Yes.”
“The runner will break.”
“I know.”
”And we can’t travel with the slide out.”
“I know.”
“And there isn’t much water in the tank and the batteries are knackered.”
“I KNOW.”
What now?
. . . . to be continued . . . no, not for weeks and weeks like Airport Gestapo, just one more episode. I’m only thinking of you. I don’t want you to get eye strain.
Here’s hoping that any ‘sticks-and-bricks’ adventures are much more enjoyable.
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Oh yes please. We’ve had an unbelievable amount of hassle trying to extricate ourselves from this country. Is the universe trying to send us a message?
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Wish I had the answer for you.
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When you settle down don’t have anything to do with Dish Network.
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You aren’t the only one I have heard say that.
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Ah. Wish we’d known. Never again!
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Yup we agree, those roads in CA did you in. Hilarious, I enjoyed reading your travel ails, without which, it would not be fun.
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Hahaha! I’m not sure what your idea of fun is ML!! We do enjoy our non-traumatic times more now though!
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Like Bulldog, I think I want to read the next instalment before I comment. I’m almost afraid to look!
I had no idea California roads were bad. I assumed that without our extreme freeze/thaw cycle, they would be smooth as a baby’s bum.
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I believe they’ve had no money spent on them since . . . ever. And for what you would assume to be a wealthy state they have the worst roads in the country. Maybe the potholed roads up north are worse now but at least they’ll be fixed. Won’t they?
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I thought there was an issue with California’s tax laws and even though it’s a ‘wealthy’ state in terms of the people who live there, the amount of tax collected is very low.
As much as we all HATE taxes, there are certain conveniences we really like to have – like roads.
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Judging from the state of their roads you are right. But all of us out-of-staters want them to PAY MORE TAX and fix their roads.
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Glad you do relate the “interesting bits.” They always seem funnier when looking back at them, don’t they? In the moment, not so much. Sounds painful. 😦
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Only funny in hindsight as you say, but it takes the sting out of dodgy situation to write a silly story about it. All true, of course!
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I thought a life on the road was ‘carefree’! Looking forward to a happy ending.
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It is fairly carefree. I only relate the “interesting” bits.
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I am learning so much about RVs from you. Slide out beds? Amazing! I shall have to get you two round next time we buy some flat-pack furniture 😉
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Himself is ace at flat-pack furniture. I do have to leave the room when he’s putting it together though!
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To be continued? I was just getting into it LOL I’ll be back for the 2nd half of this thrilling saga.
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See you Wednesday! From the hopelessly inept RVers!
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I do so appreciate you adding to my joy at living in a sticks and bricks. You keep this up and you will be seeing that estate agent. I know driving a beast like that around would kill me for sure, not to mention the stress of hauling your worldly possessions everywhere you go.
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You mean I haven’t convinced you to hit the road? I’m amazed!!
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Hired movers to carry my son’s earthly possessions to California and all they talked about was how CA had the worst roads in the country. Said they knew as soon as they crossed the state line even without a sign! Can’t wait to hear the rest of the tale….
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We’ve traveled through 47 states and they absolutely the worst roads in the country. I think we should hold the Khardashians accountable. They could afford to fix the roads.
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Well, if not them, how about Arnie?
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I forgot about him. It’s all his fault. He should have raised their taxes and allocated the funds while he had the chance. Where does all that money go anyway?
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Hmmmm…perhaps he bought an RV complete with its own quick-fix mechanic?
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He may have bought somewhere to live but it probably doesn’t have wheels!
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‘Vertical Twister’ ….love that phrase almost as much as the vision you created of your husband breaking his foot on the toaster. You do make the RV life sound appealing. 🙂
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I’m so glad I wrote these things down at the time. It’s such fun to relive our nightmares!
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Great story telling with such descriptive phrases as, “oh so withering looks.”
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Thank you Lyle. Sadly no bears to spice things up a bit.
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Gotta love the California roads, especially when hauling a trailer – YIKES! Have almost lost the propane tank and awning off the camper, the bike rack in the truck bed has come undone, and totally shredded a tire on the camper too. The joys of road traveling and more adventure than you need at times too.
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More adventure than I need! I like that. Himself drove in the middle lane approaching San Franciso because the slow lane was just so awful and was juddering my brains out. A copper pulled up next to us and gestured nastily for us to change lanes. I thought my head was going to come off my neck before we got to our campsite.
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Not massaging at all!!! You feel like your body, vehicle and camper have been vibrated and then some to the Nth degree and at times its breaking point.
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I thought the draw bar would snap off the hitch. Most unpleasant!
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This is why I stay in hotels. 🙂
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But you are missing all the fun, the sense of achievement! Oh wait, spoiler alert. I I given the end away?
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I feel equal achievement when the maintenance staff at the hotel fixes my problems. Case in point NYC last week. Tues morning I realized there was no hair dryer I the room. Ring ring…hello, front desk…HELP ME!!! 🙂
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You’re such a girl.
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Guilty.
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😉
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It’s true – CA roads are awful! I know, I live here
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A beautiful state with horrrible roads! We still love it though.
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Ok do I wait till next post before I comment or do I do it now?? Well I suppose not knowing the final outcome maybe it should wait… going into hospital tomorrow, so I hope it’s not too long await for you for my wise words of wisdom…
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Sorry to hear that BD. I hope your stay is short lived and you have a speedy recovery. I cannot wait to hear your pearls of wisdom. Part 2 will be on Wednesday.
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If we weren’t confronted with some of these challenges, it couldn’t be called an ‘adventure’. Ah, the trials and tribulations of an RVer 🙂
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A couple more little adventures to roll out before the big unknown! 😕
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Surely it’s ‘known’ by now!!!
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Not really! Still could be France. But I’m ready to visit an estate agent as soon as my feet hit British soil and buy a house. Unfortunately it’s not entirely my decision. Although I have my ways!
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