These Things Happen

Monday, January 11, 2016

It is possible that we are not meant to travel this year. I am basing this on the odd start to the day. This day, being our scheduled day of departure for our yearly trip to the desert, to stay in the middle of nowhere. We have been a party to many disastrous happenings, and the events that came our way on this particular day were more than a casual whack on the side of the head.

The day began when I accidentally set off the security system alarm, which caused dear Stella, the only other person in the house, distress. It was loud. It took me awhile to come to terms with what was going on. And I didn’t exactly know how I was going to undo what I had done. Surprisingly, I’m thinking I am not the first person who has done this. The call center was much calmer than I was, and I was able to bail myself out.

Incident #2 involved the Jeep, which we tow behind the Hag. It was all hooked up and ready to go, and the lights didn’t work. When towing something, it must have lights: tail lights, brake lights, and turn signals. You need the whole business to work. On this particular day, it didn’t matter what magic tricks were tried. So, Jeep in tow, no lights in the rear to signal our intentions, we drove to the local RV dealership, and thankfully, they diagnosed the problem. $102 later, we left with a new “umbilical cord,” if you will, that connects the Jeep to the Hag, allowing the lights to work.

And now, the story takes a turn for the worse. It is the luck of the Daisies. We were leaving town, going up a small hill when the engine began to make a series of unfortunate noises, and we slowed down. Way down. The speed limit on I-5 is 65mph. The Hag was struggling to keep it at 30mph. In other words, “She was givin’ it all she had.” I will confess, my first concern was that I had loaded SO MUCH into the recesses of the Hag, that she simply couldn’t climb a hill. And then, I began to think that the engine had decided to die. As “luck” would have it, neither of these was true. Craig pulled onto the shoulder, revved the engine, and then there was the unmistakable smell of gasoline.

When the Hag door was opened, that gas smell permeated the rig. Craig was the first out and saw gasoline spewing out of the back. He yelled for us to: “GET OUT RIGHT NOW!!” We did just that. Without going into painful detail of this tortuous situation, I’ll just say that it didn’t burst into flames. Traffic whizzed by us as we stood at the side of the road. Craig and I re-entered the Hag’s smelly insides, collected a few vital things, and called the dealership who had repaired this same exact gas tank a couple of weeks ago. Craig unhooked the Jeep, and we all waited inside it until the tow truck arrived.

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The Hag, shamed and in tow, on her way to be fixed.

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Stella and I went for a walk in Albany — aka, dog potty break, as we waited for details on the status of the Hag.

The Hag was towed to Albany. It was deemed that the fuel pump hose had disconnected from the gas tank, due to a clip that wasn’t attached. This caused gas to be pumped out of the gas tank and onto the road. So, we left the dear Hag with the good folks there and went to Burgerville for lunch. Then we drove the Jeep home to the farm. Stella curled up in the backseat and went to sleep. She has no idea what she has gotten herself into with our family, our travels, and our travails. She doesn’t seem to mind these things. She is much more interested in being able to stay current with her chosen sleep pattern, which is sleeping a lot. Uninterrupted sleep is what she is after.

When we got home, the rest of us joined her in naptime. It was about the only thing we had the energy to do. These near-death experiences do seem to take a toll on us Daisies. We are used to drama. We do not court these things. They find us and go along for the ride.

 

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