The Home Stretch

We left Fort Smith exactly at 9:00am and headed towards home. We weren’t really sure how far we would get or if the Turd would hold up. The weather cooperated for the most part and we had smooth sailing through Little Rock, Memphis and Jackson. We did however reach Nashville at 4:30pm, right at the beginning of rush hour. I have already made my comments about Nashville in an earlier post, but I have to reiterate how unbelievably horrible I-40 is through downtown. I don’t know if it is because Nashville is a main point of convergence for all of those interstates or that the infrastructure hasn’t kept pace with city growth or if it is just the sheer lunacy of the drivers on the road, but when you drive in Nashville you take your life in your hands. I guarantee you that all those NASCAR fans could save a whole lot of money, by not purchasing ticket to their favorite race and heading to Nashville. Bring your lounge chairs, some cold beer and fried chicken, spread out on any overpass and watch all of the crazy stunts that these drivers pull. You like the wrecks? Nashville’s got wrecks, a bunch of them…up and down I-40. I drove for 12 hours and it seems like 11 of them were in Nashville.

So we got through Arkansas and most of Tennessee without any problems with the Turd and without having to call my father-in law for our daily dose of RV advice. I would like to thank Larry for helping us through these often humorous though trying times. He has been a great help on this our maiden voyage and his support has proven invaluable. Larry, if you ever need my help on anything…like trying to figure out what that vent is for that is sticking out of the roof over the bathroom…I’ll be there for you. We made it to Pigeon Forge, Tennessee, to a campground at the foot of the Great Smokey Mountains. Pulling in to the campsite, it was dark and windy with a hint of thunder rumbling in the distance. As my wife got out of the Turd and went inside the camp office to register, I had one of those quiet moments that have been so rare on this trip. Sitting there in the dark RV, I thought about all of the things we as a family have experienced on this trip. As I allowed myself this brief respite I looked over at the campground office where my wife was completing the registration paperwork. Just above the door, spanning the entire roof line was a single word in glowing white neon…Jesus. I smiled warmly and retreated back to those warm, quiet thoughts. As my wife returned to the RV with our registration in hand, the silence was shattered by the shrieking sounds of the CO2 alarm. I looked again at my wife as she walked up to the door and then back to the neon Jesus on the office roof. I guess the big guy just wanted me to know he also has a sense of humor and no…he hasn’t seen enough just yet.

Damn It!

Today we are going to make the big push east. We got some sleep, ate breakfast and hit the road. Obviously Mother Nature was just getting warmed up as the clouds were black, the rain was heavy and the winds were big. We got about an hour outside Amarillo when the RV stalled again. We coasted on to the shoulder and I attempted to crank the engine…nothing. Again…nothing! Outside the storm is raging and the rain is coming down in torrents. My wife asked me if there are any lights glowing on the dash and I said yes the service engine soon light is on. She reminded me that Mr. Stratkus asked that same question when we brought the RV to his shop. I finally got it cranked up and we obviously had no choice but to limp slowly along until we got to an exit with a service plaza or something. We got to Shamrock, Texas and I filled up with gas and added some oil as we were a quart low. Whatever we did corrected the warning light problem as the Turd fired right up and the service engine soon light went off. Surprisingly enough we encountered no more problems with the RV for the remainder of the day. We continued to jump onto Route 66 every chance we got, even visiting the Route 66 National Museum in Elk City, Oklahoma.

Now earlier, on our way out to the Grand Canyon, I commented on the state of the roads in Oklahoma and Arkansas, comparing them unfavorably with the roads in some third world countries. After traveling back through those states today and in light of some of the nasty emails I have received from native Arkansans and Oklahomans, I would like to recant my earlier statement. In hindsight, I realize that comparing the stretch of I-40 in Oklahoma and Arkansas to that of a third world country would be tremendously unfair to those third work countries. But I will say this; everyone in Oklahoma City should get out their pens & their best stationary and write a sincere note of thanks to the great people of Nashville, Tennessee. For if it were not for Nashville, Oklahoma City would easily have the worst stretch interstate in the country. Anyway, after a long drive we made it to the Fort Smith, Arkansas KOA where we were summarily told that the lady screwed up our reservations and the only site they had available did not have a septic station. Initially I was upset at this notion, but I quickly calmed down after recalling the fecal fountain debacle in Albuquerque. I took this new development as a sign from God, that he really was watching and that he too had finally seen enough.

Albuquerque, New Mexico

We got the RV to Stratkus early in the morning as rush hour traffic proved to be less of a problem than I anticipated. Of course I made a wrong turn on Los-Whatever street and thought for a second I was in trouble…again. However, after a quick phone call we realized that I made a left instead of a right and ended up on the wrong end of the street. After arriving at the garage, I briefly repeated the trouble I was having with the Turd to the owner and he said it would be at least an hour before we would know something. So we packed up the kids and took off in the jeep to explore Albuquerque and Route 66. I have to tell you that under the circumstances, it was a pretty enjoyable morning. Route 66, particularly through the Nob Hill section of town was fabulous! Old diners and hotels, refurbished buildings and gas stations…what a sight. I can only imagine what it all looks like at night with all that neon glowing, I bet it looks spectacular. I really wanted to have breakfast at the Route 66 Diner but they didn’t open until 11:00am. So we ended up at the Grove Café & Market instead, a real swanky open air café in Nob Hill. The food was fresh and delicious. We enjoyed breakfast alfresco, watching traffic pass by on the old mother road while waiting for a phone call from the mechanic. After breakfast we decided to head back up towards the garage to see if they had even moved the RV into the shop. Halfway up 66 the garage called and said that they couldn’t find anything wrong with the RV. He was certain that it was an electrical problem and not a fuel pump problem, but until it acted up again he would not be able to determine its exact nature or location. He said he could start replacing things but all we would do is spend a lot of money without any guarantees that it would fix the problem. So our only viable option was to head east and hope for the best. I asked him to look at the blinkers as I noticed that they stopped flashing. He said he would do it immediately so give him another 15 minutes or so. We made a semi U-turn in the general direction of Rio Grande Boulevard and stumbled upon Old Town Albuquerque. It what was possibly one of the neatest places we visited. Old Town is to Albuquerque as the French Quarter is to New Orleans. That is without Mardi Gras, out of the closet transvestites and those seedy little strip clubs. This place is steeped in history and the architecture is amazing. Driving thru, you could really get a sense of life back in the days before electricity. We were torn between wanting to stay and explore this great treasure and needing to get back home. Unfortunately Old Town will have to wait for our next visit, but I can tell it will be worth the wait.

We got back to the garage to pick up the Turd. Surprisingly, Jim could not fix the blinker problem because we would have to replace part of the steering column and getting the parts would take a few days. So now I hand crank the blinkers so they manually flash in the direction I want to turn. Unbelievable! While finishing up the paperwork I asked the owner if there were any laws on the books for people who take advantage of stranded visitors. He asked why and I told him about my experience the day before. He said, “You took it to Rout 66 Truck & RV?” When we said that the RV Park recommended them twice, he said that he has heard so many horror stories about those guys that he was surprised that they had not been shut down by now. According to the Jim, the Frito Bandito has his wife cruising the interstate looking for stranded tourists in RV’s. At that point we decided to stop the credit card payment, complain to the owners of the RV Park and report Route 66 Truck and RV to the proper authorities.

So when all was said and done, we crossed our fingers and finally left Albuquerque headed for Amarillo and a date with the Big Texan. We made pretty good time even though we hopped off and on Rout 66 every chance we got.. The drive to Amarillo was relatively uneventful, that is until we encountered one of those southern plains, tornado producing thunderstorms you hear about in the news back home. I remember it well…the Cadillac Ranch was on our right and a developing F-4 was on our left. Talk about your big entrances. As we pulled in to the RV Park, the storm roared into Amarillo. Now I have been in big storms in the past, really big storms. Hurricane Andrew would be an example of a big storm. But until you have experienced a storm with sustained 40 mile per hour winds while trapped in a 36 foot recreational vehicle that is parked in a barren Amarillo, Texas KOA, well you haven’t experienced a big storm. I never knew it was possible for a person to get sea sick in a parked camper in the middle of Texas…but I guess you can. Anyway, after the winds died down and the pouring rain subsided a little, we headed to the Big Texan. Seeing it up close and personal it was hard to believe that it could actually be tackier in real life than it is on line. A big yellow building with a huge cow parked out front, it more than lived up to its advanced billing. Everyone sits family style in long tables that are set in rows. I contemplated accepting the 72oz Steak challenge, but after seeing the steak in person I decided that it would not be in my best interest nor would it be in the best interest of my family to partake in said challenge. OK I was scared but you should have seen the size of this thing. I saw three people try and none finished half of the steak, although they did get a check for $72 bucks and a real tacky Big Texan tee shirt as consolation. The food was surprisingly good, the deserts were incredibly large, and we even had a few songs played at our table by a wandering cowboy string trio (I’m not sure but I think they work there). Back at the RV we were lulled to sleep by the sounds of numerous trains as they passed a few planes as they landed, and another storm as it zeroed in on Amarillo. I love vacations.

Rout 66 RV & Truck Repair

We had to get up early today so I could get the turd over to Rout 66 RV & Truck Repair. My wife and I rousted the kids out of bed and we all drove over to the garage, located less than a mile from the RV Park where we stayed the night before. When we arrived I could not believe that there was actually a business operating out of this shack. I got out of the RV and headed over to the office where I was met buy a Hispanic male who was working on an engine block. I explained my situation and that I needed my fuel filter replaced. He said OK and followed me out to the RV. Getting down on his back, he rolled around on the ground, looking under the rig as he began muttering quietly to himself in Spanish. He said that he couldn’t find the fuel filter and that he would have to call his boss for advice as to where to look. As he made a beeline for the office, another older man drove over to me in one of the garage’s red emergency pick up trucks. This guy was a character to say the least diving back and forth to my RV from the garage (a distance of less than 100 feet). He said that he could replace the fuel filter, but the problem sounded like a fuel pump issue. Then he got down on his back, rolled around on the ground, looked under the rig and then began to mutter quietly to himself in Spanish. He got up and said that he could not find the fuel filter either. I told the guy that I would call Workhorse directly and ask them where the fuel filter was, at which point he nodded in agreement, muttered something unintelligible and promptly left to go work on another vehicle. I got a young lady on the phone at Workhorse who helped the older guy who I’ll call Poppy, locate the mysterious fuel filter. After a few minutes on his back, Poppy removed the old filter from my vehicle, a five minute procedure, and said that he was going to have to order a new one. He also kept telling me that it was the fuel pump and that no one in Albuquerque worked on more Workhorse chassis than Rout 66 RV & Truck Repair. Now mind you that this was the same guy that could not find a simple in-line fuel filter and had to have a lady in Michigan walk him thru it. “I am going to order the filter” Poppy said in thickly accented English. “But I am sure that you need a fuel pump and that could take days”. Now everyone I spoke with who knows anything about RV’s said it is NOT the fuel pump so at this point I become even more skeptical. “Do you do warrantee work” I asked Poppy. “I don’t know” he said, “You are going have to speak to the boss”. “Ok, when will he be here?” I asked. “20 to 30 minutes, he is picking up your fuel filter” he replied with an annoyed look. “You haven’t called it in yet” I said pointing the old filter still sitting on the ground next to the turd. “He will be here and you can talk to him” Poppy quipped as he was climbing back in his truck for the 100 foot drive back to the garage. “Can I call him” I asked? “Sure, I guess…but he is going to tell you the same thing” he said. “Same thing as what?” I asked, “You haven’t told me a damn thing yourself”. “I want to know how much this is going to cost, what is involved and are you authorized to do the warrantee work; you know common sense questions anyone would ask before they let you work on their $100,000 vehicle.” I continued, but clearly getting aggravated. “Good point” Poppy said, “but you are going to have to speak to the boss when he gets here because I don’t know anything about that stuff”.

At this point I call my warrantee company, explained the situation to them and asked if there were any approved garages they work with in the Albuquerque area. She gave me a list and I began calling. The last one on the list was RV World or something like that. They are a national chain of RV superstores and had quite an impressive facility located less than a mile from our current location. Of course I had already asked Ranger Bob at the RV park the day before if this place did repair work on RV’s to which he said no. So I called them and sure enough they didn’t do that kind of work there; but they did recommend someone who did. So I called Stratkus Engine Repair and they said that they do service Workhorse chassis and they do have the parts in stock. The owner Jim Stratkus was a good guy who said on the phone that there was a slight chance that it could be a fuel pump issue but he doubted it. He said it that it was more likely an electrical issue like a relay or something, and to bring it in at 8:00am the next day. While I was talking to Stratkus on the phone, Poppy climbed back under the RV and replaced the fuel filter. I went over to the office where “the boss” had finally gotten back from his shopping errands and was sitting at his desk. “I just spoke with my warrantee company, and before you are authorized to do any work they will have to approve it” I said. “How do they pay” he asked? “I don’t know” I said, “but I we both would feel more comfortable having a specialist do the work as your man Poppy has already admitted to me that he wasn’t sure that you guys could do the work and hell he couldn’t even find the fuel filter”. So I told the guy I’d like to settle up for the work already done. He said OK and proceeded to write out an invoice for $360. Upon receiving the invoice I asked the Frito Bandito if he was out of his frigging mind. He said, “no, we always charge a one time diagnostic fee which is here, the part cost $100 and that is listed here and 2 hours labor is listed here” he pointed out with a big smile. “First of all there was no diagnostic” I said. “I drove in here and asked to have my fuel filter replaced, which by the way two of your guys couldn’t find without the help of Workhorse, who I had to call on my personal cell phone”. “As for the 2 hours labor, that’s a bigger crock than the diagnostic, given that it was a 15 minute job once he found the filter and he spent all of the intervening time working on someone else’s truck”. “The only diagnostic that needs to be done is on your head, if you think that this is going to stand” I said. “You can sue me if you want, but that is going to take up a lot of time and money” he said, looking more and more like the Frito Bandito. At this point the conversation became pretty heated and Mr. Bandito’s compadres began walking up to the office door. The whole scene was intense and I felt that continuing along this track could prove dangerous for me and perhaps my family, who were all still waiting in the RV. So I paid the invoice, just wanting to get my wife and kids out of there. We went back to the RV Park and set up camp for an additional night. We took the kids swimming and to Petroglyph National Monument. We also took a short ride down Old Rout 66, which proved to be much better than any stretch of the highway we had previously seen. I wasn’t looking forward to fighting rush hour traffic in the turd, but I was comfortable that Stratkus would be able to help us with the problem. So after making tacos and going for a short walk around the park, we all turned in relatively early knowing tomorrow could be another interesting day.

What A Nice Water Feature You Have There

It had to happen. I just knew that our string of good luck was bound to end sometime. Maybe it was fate or maybe it was my comments on the psychic hoo-doo in Sedona, but I can tell you when it rains…well you know. After purchasing one of everything in Sedona, eating great Mexican food and enjoying Cottonwoods sweltering desert temperatures, we decided that enough was enough and we were heading home a day early. By leaving early, we hoped to do the handful of things that we failed to do on our way out west, primarily visiting Petroglyph National Monument, the Cadillac Ranch and of course the Big Texan.

We got going around 10:00am local time and began our journey to Albuquerque. The interesting thing about this area of the country is that almost without question, in whatever direction you travel, you seem to be going up…straight up. Now let me preface this by saying that the Turd should never be confused with a Ferrari. It does however, have very deceptive speed in the sense that it is much slower than it looks. This was never more evident than in our trek back up to Albuquerque. My God, there is nothing more maddening for me than being stuck behind a truck doing 35 in a 75 zone and being helpless to pass said truck. Mind you that when we left on this little journey we weighed about 24,000 pounds, not withstanding the souvenirs from Sedona or the previous nights Mexican food in Cottonwood, we were probably right around that same number as we began our trip back east. After what can only be described as a torturous hour and a half, we finally leveled out in Flagstaff, passed that damn truck, and merged onto eastbound I-40. After a couple of stops we reached New Mexico in the early afternoon, right on schedule. Did you hear that? It was the other shoe falling.

Now keep in mind that we had not experienced anymore problems with the Turd since that whole ABS thing outside of Memphis. We were cruising along I-40 at around 70mph when we reached the outskirts of a town called Gallup, New Mexico. In Gallup, the interstate narrows from four lanes to two due to road construction and we easily merged into our lane with the other vehicles. When we passed the construction site and the interstate went back to four lanes, I hit the accelerator to speed up and nothing happened. I punched it again…nothing. I cursed, punched it harder and still nothing happened. Fortunately, we were approaching an off ramp and I slowly coasted to the top of the bridge right as the engine died. So here we are, the turd, pulling the jeep, stalled smack dab in the middle of the first major off ramp in Arizona…perfect. I turned off the key, turned it back on and low and behold she fired right back up. It was as if nothing had ever happened. We got back on the interstate and experienced no more problems; that is until we got to Albuquerque. Exiting at our destination, we drove into this really nice RV Park. My wife got out to sign us in and returned a few minutes later with our registration and park information. This place had all the bells and whistles, big new community center with a pool, spa and a convenience store. Sitting out front in separate golf carts were two guys in uniform. I gather that their primary responsibility is to talk to each other during down time and to escort you to your site once you register. I should have known I was in trouble, when in an effort to get in front of our RV these two guys crashed head first into each other. Finally, one of the guys pulled out and we began to follow him. No sooner had we turned onto the parks main street, did the Turd stall again! So, I recycled the key from on to off to on again and she started right up. We drove to our site and began to set up. Now I am truly concerned at this point. Clearly something is wrong with the Turd and I am in the middle of nowhere. We have every bit of coverage you can get; premium gold-level extended warrantees, a tire guard warrantee, AAA RV coverage, unlimited roadside assistance, etc, but unless you have phone coverage to call these people, you are S.O.L. One of the two things I noticed as we headed west through New Mexico was how beautiful the landscape was and how non-existent cell phone coverage was from Texas to Albuquerque. I was not about to head east into this part of New Mexico without getting it looked at. The RV Center recommended Rout 66 RV and Truck Repair, conveniently located less than a mile from the Park. That eased my mind a bit. This was clearly a first class RV preserve, very busy with a lot of expensive rigs. If they recommended this garage, you could only think they would be OK.
I tried to put this out of my mind as I began to set up the RV, but the accumulated stress of the jeep ordeal, the RV dealership ordeal, the ABS ordeal, the VIN number ordeal and now the Turd stalling in the middle of nowhere ordeal, was just too much. If that were not enough, my wife was running low on wine and that could potentially be very problematic! So I am in the back of the RV, minding my own business, when the guy next to me strikes up a conversation. Not wanting to be rude, I tried to be marginally conversant as my wife came around to inform me that she was going to find out where the nearest grocery store was located. Not really paying attention, I grunted my acknowledgment and finished hooking up the electric, water and sewer. Knowing it was going to be a short day, there was no grey water and no refuse in the black tank, except for a miniscule amount of water you keep in the event you have to go number 1 or god forbid number 2. That made the set up easier, just hook everything up and we were good to go. I went inside to make dinner and casually looked out the window at my wife talking up the folks across the street. A few minutes later the door to the RV opened up and my wife said, “honey, can you come here…we have a problem”. Thinking to myself, “damn she probably scored a bottle from the lady across the way and they were coming over to drink it”, I said “OK” and walked over to the door. At which time I look out and there were 4 or five people lined up outside the RV staring at our RV. I looked at them, looked at my wife and then back at them. The clearly were interested in our RV, for what reason I could not imagine. Ours was the Honda parked amongst the Cadillac’s. I turned to my wife and said “what’s the problem?” at which point she directed my gaze to the top of the RV from which a torrent of water was now shooting up and spilling over both sides. I froze, not knowing what in the hell was causing water to rush over the side of the RV. So, I looked at my wife, looked at the growing crowd and shut the door. Members of the crowd asked my wife “where did he go”. “Hiding” she replied. Actually I went and turned off the AC, foolishly thinking that they were the only pieces of equipment on the roof that could produce moisture. Of course they could never produce that much water…only Niagara Falls could produce that much water, but it was worth a shot. Stepping outside one of the guys asked, “what do you think is causing that?” like it happens all the time and I just haven’t gotten around to fixing it yet. “Too much water I guess” I said. In the mean time my wife did the smart thing and turned off the water supply to the Turd, immediately stopping the developing geyser. Another guy, who sort of reminded me a bit of Cliff on Cheers, came around back to help me diagnose the problem. As Cliff and I examined the control panel, searching for some clue as to what might be causing the problem; news of my RV’s new “water feature” was rapidly circulating around the campground. This was embarrassing. Then as if on cue, both of us followed the hose that supplies the RV with fresh water. Instead of running the hose to the fresh water supply, I connected it to the black tank flush out, apparently filling the entire tank and the connecting air supply vent with fresh water that subsequently came shooting out the top of the Turd. Cliff immediately went to inform the restless crowd as to the nature of the problem and my obvious stupidity. Realizing that I could not hide behind the RV forever, and that my wife would not let the crowd disperse before she was certain I would face the music, I put a smile on my face, walked around to the gathering of concerned neighbors, and said “boy, good thing that happened; I could have gone 3 or 4 more years without ever knowing where that roof vent led”. Tears in my eyes and in dire need of a scotch, I reminded the crowd that the next show was at 11:00 and excused myself for the evening. All this and our time in Albuquerque had only just begun.

Sedona

Our last day at Grand Canyon was spent doing a few housekeeping chores, mailing postcards, buying food; you know the boring day to day stuff. We got going around 11:00am and headed south to Sedona, and the trip along highway 89 was mesmerizing to say the least. Taking the scenic rout straight through the heart of the San Francisco Peaks into Flagstaff, it could not have been a nicer drive as we wound our way through the high desert and alpine forests. The only downer was old Rout 66. Supposedly one of the best strips of the old mother road as it is called runs straight through Flagstaff. If that’s the case then we missed it or something. I must say that old Rout 66 has been a big disappointment for us; no tacky hotels no worlds biggest ball of yarn, just some old dilapidated motels and stuff.

For the uninitiated, Sedona is located in central Arizona and is supposedly a corridor of great cosmic power and energy. With so much having been written about the area, we decided that we just had to see it. Now I want to be clear that our attraction to Sedona had nothing to do with the physic energy reportedly emanating from this place, nor were we interested in the cosmic vortexes, palm readers, soothsayers, or alien masseuses. No for us the attraction to Sedona was its unique geology and natural beauty. The drive from Flagstaff to Sedona is a sight to behold as is obviously the case for so much of this part of the country. You take highway 89A out of Flagstaff and slowly wind your way down the side of the mountainous plateau into an area called Oak Creek Canyon. The geographic features of Oak Creek Canyon mirror those of Flagstaff and much of the surrounding area…that is until you reach Sedona. Highway 89A hugs the steep canyon walls and follows Oak Creek as it descends into the canyon. It is a two lane mountain road, with more that its fair share of steep drops and hairpin turns. My wife was absolutely terrified on the way down; barely looking out the window as we slowly worked our way down to the canyon floor. It was hard to believe that this was the same person, who fearlessly and without batting an eye, marched across the upper rim of the Grand Canyon on dangerously un-maintained loose gravel trails, many of which were less than three feet wide. I mean the Turd was geared all the way down and I rarely if ever hit the 20 MPH mark. It must have been a dose of that good old cosmic energy or something.

As you enter Sedona you experience a landscape that is completely unique and unlike anything we had ever seen. Sedona is built in an area dominated by red rock. The more traditional colorings of the central Arizona landscape abruptly disappear in Sedona as the mesas, bluffs and canyon walls are all colored a deep, purplish-red hue. A real Kodak moment if I ever saw one! According to books, local legend and the Travel Channel, Sedona sits on top of an intersection of major psychic fault lines which apparently bisect the entire planet. Picture the lines of longitude and latitude on a map. According to those in touch with their cosmic inner child, when these lines cross, vortexes of psychic energy are produced, opening gateways to the soul and psychic portholes to the cosmos. Sedona sits on one of these sites as do the ancient Mayan ruin of Chichen-itza and the enigmatic Stonehenge in England. I don’t know about all that, but I do know that we had the best Mexican food any of us had ever eaten right down the road in Cottonwood. Keep your cosmic portholes and pass the tacos por favor.
A few miles north of Sedona is Slide Rock State Park, a popular local attraction that provides a cool respite from soaring mid-day temperatures and the hot desert sun. Slide Rock Park is located on a section of Oak Creek and encompasses and area of the creek where time and water have worn an 80 foot section of the river bed into a natural, smooth rock slide. It was a blast as the boys and I spent hours traversing the creek, sliding down the rock slides and jumping off cliffs into the deep and dare I say chilly mountain waters. Afterward we hit downtown Sedona for a little shopping on the town’s main drag. Did I say a little shopping? How about a lot of shopping? We hit almost every downtown store in Sedona and finished off the day having a great dinner at the Casa Bonita in Cottonwood. It was the most authentically prepared Mexican food any of us had ever had. What is that they say? When in Rome? Anyway, my oldest son ate so many tacos that I thought we were going to have to pump his stomach, I devoured a plate of Carne Asada and my wife enjoyed her first margarita of the trip. My youngest son, easily the pickiest eater in the family, has now developed a love and passion for chicken quesadillas. All’s well that ends well and today ended great. My only question was if and at what time did Casa Bonita open for breakfast?

Into the Canyon

Today is our last full day at the canyon. Initially, when planning this trip I feared that we would probably be bored stiff after 4 days of gazing into the Big Hole. However in hindsight I couldn’t have been more off base. We needed every day we had and could have honestly used a couple of additional days to do all of the things that we wanted to do. Everything was planned with the kids in mind. Getting their attention was not difficult at first as the magnitude and scale of the canyon captivates the mind regardless of ones age. However, I was quite concerned about what would happen after the initial “shock” of seeing the canyon wore off. What would get their attention and keep it throughout the entirety our time here. So we started with short hikes, ranger talks, restaurants and shopping. We worked our way up to longer hikes, additional shopping, more restaurants, and even more hiking. The thought was to get them interested in the ancillary aspects of the park and to combine them with more difficult and physical activities. So once they got their bearings and were comfortable with their surroundings, we casually mentioned at dinner that we would be climbing over the rim and descending into the canyon itself. As seen from above Bright Angel Trail looks daunting and difficult. Put simply, if miles and miles of steep switchbacks made of dirt and rock, zero shade, oppressive heat and limited access to water sounds good to you, then Bright Angel is right up your alley. When nature calls, you can even relieve yourself in one of three composting latrines conveniently located along the 9-mile trail. The most heavily traveled trail into the canyon, Bright Angel can be very difficult if you do not take the proper precautions. By all accounts the trail is easy to navigate and fairly well maintained, that is if you don’t discount for the fresh mule droppings that litter the entire upper portion of the trail, and the steep drop of 1,220 feet in elevation over the first mile and a half. As you approach the trailhead, you come to a bulletin board that contains information essential for all hikers. So I stood there at the trailhead, reading all of the postings, quietly wondering what the hell was doing here. There were postings about the dangers of dehydration, heat exposure and of falling from high heights (although the later seemed a bit self explanatory). My favorite posting (in hindsight) provided information concerning what you should do if you encounter mountain lions…MOUNTAIN LIONS? I read all the books; they talked about scorpions, rattlesnakes and dangerous fat, biting squirrels but no mention of mountain lions. It was a fine time to mention that little detail don’t you think? Descending into the canyon it becomes dramatically hotter and the air is stagnant and dusty. We followed the trail as it worked its way back and forth along the canyon walls, slowly traveling back through time (geologically speaking) as we inched our way towards our destination. All told, it took us a couple of hours or so to complete our journey. My youngest son struggled a bit with the ascent, so he and I took it slow stopping frequently for rest and water brakes. Yet when it was all said and done, the four of us successfully emerged from the bowels of the canyon, victorious and proud of our accomplishment. Everything else that day took on a slightly brighter sheen; the day a little brighter, the water a little sweeter and the food a little tastier. I hope when our kids are all grown up, married and have children of their own, that they will look back and remember these days. I hope that they will bring their children here to this place, that they will tell their children the stories of this journey and the day we hiked the Grand Canyon.

From Mather Point To Hermits Rest

Today was another excellent day. The temperatures at night are in the 40’s so we have yet to run the air conditioning. The morning air still has a fall-like crispness to it and the lack of humidity makes for some real comfortable sleeping. Our goal today was to hike the remaining portion of the western rim trail, from the village to Hermit’s Rest. The overall journey is over 7 miles one way and the trails go from paved and smooth to un-maintained and quite scary in places. Since we had already hiked from the village to a place called Trail View overlook, our plan was to catch a shuttle bus back out to the overlook, head west to Hermit’s Rest and then shuttle back to the village. We geared up and were headed for the shuttle bus when we came across a park ranger who offered up free some advice on how to best enjoy our hike. There is a 4 mile stretch of trail from Mohave Point to Pima Point that is nothing but forest. He said that the trail veers away from the canyon rim during this stretch and it kind of defeats the purpose of the hike. So we took his advice and decided to catch the shuttle from the south village to Pima Point and then hike from Pima to Hermit’s Rest. Then we would bus back to Mohave and hike the entire rim back to the village. This would add back the extra miles we lost buy excluding the section of wooded trail, while ensuring that we saw most everything of note along the way. When the bus dropped us off at Pima, we knew that it was going to be a far rougher go than what we had experienced to that point. We did not know how much rougher it would get but we were about to find out. After a brief trek through some trees and scrub we came to a fork in the road so to speak. Wanting to get great views of the canyon we took the path that headed towards the rim. This trail proved to be a true test of nerves for me. My wife and I could easily and enjoyably navigate the narrow trails and sheer drop offs with no problem. However with two young boys, whose overall coordination is questionable even on a flat sidewalk, I have to admit that my nerves could not take it. It did not feel safe to proceed along this trail with them, particularly my youngest. So we scaled some rocks and proceeded along a ridge overlooking the rim until such a point where the trail was wider and the margin of error was no longer non-existent. The remaining hike was awesome. We had some of the best views of the canyon, while the fairly rough terrain made the hike more interesting and more physically demanding. We came across dramatic overlooks, caught glimpses of the Colorado River and saw the remnants of an old uranium mine sitting precariously on the rim. It seems that at one point, the Grand Canyon was the richest source of uranium in the country. It has long been closed and the area is fenced off so you can’t get too close. The shuttle bus driver said that it has been closed ever since the National Park Service came into existence and that the NPS would not allow mining in any of its parks. Interestingly enough, while hiking past the old mine there appeared to have been recent activity going there with what seemed to be new mining materials stacked up along the site. One of those things that make you go Hmmm. After we finished our hike we proceeded directly to the Bright Angel Lodge for some ice cream, an adult beverage and some well deserved rest. The kids finished their Jr. Ranger books so we needed to head east to the Canyon View information center in order to get them sworn in and for them to receive their badges. We took the shuttle to Canyon View which is adjacent to Mather Point, one of the most famous overlooks in the park. The kids received their commissions, took possession of their badges and we departed Canyon View the proud parents of two Jr. Rangers. Getting our second wind, we decided to head out to Mather and hike back to the village, hitting the Yavapai Observation center on the way. This would be an additional three miles on top of the miles we already hiked earlier in the day. Everyone was up to the task and it was well worth the effort. The sun was setting over the canyon and the hues and colors of the canyon walls seemed to change with each step we took. It was as if we had the canyon to ourselves as there was hardly anyone on the trail at this hour. It certainly took extra effort but in the end it was well worth it. We got back to the RV feeling a sense of accomplishment. After a hot shower we grilled a few burgers and contemplated the agenda for tomorrow…our desent into the canyon itself.

News From The Rim

Everyone got up pretty early and grabbed something to eat. We were very anxious to explore the park got going as soon as we were able. The campground is OK, certainly nothing to write home about. However, for a National Park, things are pretty buttoned up. There is an excellent if not overcrowded mass transit system that will carry you from one end of the park to the other. There are shops, hotels and restaurants. There are bookstores, theaters and even a fairly well stocked General Store. What they don’t have is internet access. The neat thing about the South Village is that many of the hotels and buildings were built long ago by the railroad companies. In fact the El Tovar Hotel was built in 1905 by the Santa Fe railroad for the exclusive use of their company executives. The hotel is considered to be one of the crown jewels of all the National Park lodges. The El Tovar is located in the center of the south village. The hotel restaurant is elegant yet rustic, its shops are diverse and only moderately expensive and the views are nothing short of spectacular. Parking at the El Tovar we began our first full day at the Grand Canyon by taking in the views, hitting a number of shops in the village and eating lunch at the Bright Angel Lodge. We attended a lecture at Kolb Studios on the efforts being made to save the California condor from extinction. The talk was given by a park ranger and conducted on a rock terrace overlooking the canyon. If you are like us and are unfamiliar with the plight of the condor, let me tell you these things are huge! With a wingspan in excess of 9 feet, the California condor has been around since the last ice age. However, by the early 1980’s these animals were all but extinct, with less than twenty living in captivity. The reintroduction of condors into the wild is going slowly. Those involved with the project are guardedly optimistic that over time we will be able to save these great birds. Yet, despite these efforts the California condor remains one of the rarest birds in North America. However, at the Grand Canyon they are very visible and can be seen soaring high on warm air currents and updrafts.

The kid’s began their third Junior Ranger program and we went on a hike along the central rim of the canyon. What an experience! The views are unbelievable and the weather is simply gorgeous. The rim trail is often overlooked when people discuss hiking the canyon. I can tell you from the little we did today; we have a deep appreciation for this aspect of the park. Hiking about three miles of the rim on paved paths, many that skirt the edge of the canyon, it was a nice introductory experience for the kids and a great time for us to take in the beautiful serenity of this special place. Wildlife was also in abundance as we have encountered elk, mule deer, rabbits, condors, ravens, and the biggest darn squirrels I have ever seen. At the end of the day, we packed it in, wandering outside just long enough to gaze at the evening sky. So many stars, you can hardly believe it. Without the light pollution of cities or the impact of human activity, it is hard to believe that this is the same sky you take for granted every night at home.

Grand Canyon Here We Come!

Last night before bed, we took the kids out for some ice cream. After dinner we let them run around the playground for a while, trying to get them to expel any remaining energy they held in reserve. My youngest son became very upset when he realized that he lost his Jr. Ranger badge from the Petrified Forest. I looked everywhere that night with flashlight in hand, trying to find his badge. I was unsuccessful and unfortunately he went to be upset. So, I got up extra early this morning, got in the jeep and headed back to the Petrified Forest National Park (44 miles round trip) so I could bribe the local park ranger into giving me a new badge. I walked into the visitor center right when they opened at 7:00am and explained to the ranger on duty that I was not a crackpot that my youngest son really did lose his badge and no it was not really for me. It was not a sure thing but once I produced his official Jr. Park Ranger workbook, signed and dated by one of the other rangers, she had no choice but to hand over the goods. When I got back I told my son that I had been out looking for his badge and could not find it anywhere. You could instantly see the disappointment cloud his face. Then I said, “So….I went back to the park this morning and I got you a new one”. He was elated and gave me a hug so tight that I knew it was important to him. This just became the best moment of the trip for me.

We ate breakfast at our favorite campground pancake bistro, packed up the Turd and headed east. Check in time at the Grand Canyon was 12:00 noon, but we had a few stops to make along the way. First up Winslow, Arizona, a town made famous by the Eagles song, “Take it Easy”. There actually is a corner in Winslow, Arizona where people stop for pictures and such. Unfortunately a fire damaged a number of buildings in Winslow and temporarily closed the corner so we opted to move on. The second stop was Meteor Crater. You have undoubtedly seen pictures of this impact crater on TV or in the movies. It is the biggest, most well preserved meteor impact crater in the world. 700 feet deep and 4,000 feet wide, the crater was made by a meteor approximately 150 feet long, weighing several hundred thousand tons and traveling in excess of 26,000 miles per hour. After the crater, we decided to stop at Walnut Canyon, a sheer faced canyon outside Flagstaff, Arizona and in the shadow of the San Francisco Mountain Range. Walnut Canyon is magnificently beautiful place and another great opportunity for a moderate hike. The canyon was home to the Sanagua, a resourceful people who lived in cliff dwellings carved high into the canyon walls. It was a beautiful hike covering a mile or so, much of it straight up and straight down. Again the kids participated in the Junior Ranger program, earning their badges and certificates.

We decided to head north up highway 89 to old highway 64 or the desert view rout. This is a slightly longer rout but well worth it. Leaving Flagstaff you pass through the San Francisco mountain range, featuring an old dormant volcano that tops out at over 12, 500 feet above sea level, what a sight. You then travel through the Coconino National Forest until you come to highway 64. At this point you see the beginnings of the canyon, and as you travel west, you marvel at how quickly it grows before your eyes. When we finally reached the park entrance we were told that there was no admission charge, because there was a major accident that just occurred between the western entrance and the South Rim village where we were staying. The ranger said it would be three hours or so before the road would open so we were free to pull over in the parking area until the park reopened. Well that was certainly par for the course. We could drive to the parks south entrance, but that would have taken three hours and the Turd needed a break. As fate would have it, an RV exploded on the desert view drive, propelling flames and fuel into the dry forest. You could see the smoke billowing from miles away, and you had to wonder if they weren’t going to have to evacuate the park. Anyway, we pulled into the desert view area of the park, a beautiful village with a huge stone tower built on an outcropping of rock in the far east corner of the park. You could see the beautiful structure from the parking lot, though you could not see the actual canyon yet. Heading towards the tower on a winding path you are teased by glimpses of the canyon, colors and light mostly, and then you come around a corner and there it is. If you have never seen the Grand Canyon, believe me when I say that nothing can prepare you for the enormity of what you see. I mean you know it is going to be big, you know it is going to be vast and you know it is going to be impressive. After seeing it for the first time, I can only say that my definitions for big, vast and impressive have all changed. We resigned ourselves to the fact that we would be spending our first night at the Grand Canyon in a parking lot with no power, little water and unable to extend the slide out. They reopened the road a couple of hours later and we made it to the campground around 9:00pm. We finally made it, everyone was excited and anticipating our time here. However our Grand Canyon adventure would have to wait until tomorrow as we quickly ate dinner and retired for the evening.

Father's Day At The Painted Desert

As you know from the previous post, we arrived in Holbrook, Arizona under the cover of darkness. We got up pretty early and I took the kids to shower and for an all you can eat pancake breakfast, prepared by the owners of the campground and served alfresco in the crisp morning air. Today we are going to the Painted Desert and the Petrified Forest National Park. I have to say it was an awe inspiring experience. The landscape around Holbrook is sparse, almost alien. It is in the high desert, at an altitude well over 5,000 feet, surrounded by nothing but scrub, dirt and rocks. The kids ate their pancakes and I drank a couple of cups of coffee while my wife showered and got ready. When everyone was assembled and the jeep was loaded up, we headed east for the desert. I first thing that strikes you is the enormity of it all. The vast desert stretches for as far as the eye can see and is littered with rocky mounds, colorful buttes and dry washes. Heading east on I-40 we began seeing pieces of petrified wood scattered about, and the colorful beginnings of the Painted Dessert. We pulled into the park and went into the very nice visitor center. After purchasing a few trinkets and post cards for the kids, we proceeded to watch a 10 minute film on the history of the Petrified Forest, which was extremely interesting.

Leaving the visitor center, we got back into the jeep and headed on our journey. The Petrified Forest and Painted Desert can be experienced by car or on foot. The 28 mile drive through the park is breathtaking. Along the well maintained roads are numerous places to pullover and hike, view the remains of ancient dwellings and petroglyphs or study a few of the hundreds of thousands of pieces of petrified wood. We stopped at every overlook, marveled at the ruins and drawings of ancient peoples who lived here long ago, but most importantly we hiked out into the park itself. The hike was not particularly long, a couple of miles at best, but the experience was one that I will never forget. You turn off the main road running through the park and drive a few miles to the trailhead. The Blue Mesa trailhead is located at the top of Blue Mesa and the trail begins by following the crest of the Mesa to a point where you descend approximately 1,000 feet into a beautiful valley surrounded by blue, pink and purple cliffs. The first thing you notice is the complete solitude and silence, it is absolutely unbelievable. In fact, there were only two other people who braved the 100 degree heat and made the hike to the valley floor, so we had the whole area practically to ourselves. The second thing you notice is the petrified wood, and I mean a lot of it. The amazing thing about this stuff is that it most of it looks like wood, not rock. You see all of the imperfections of in each tree as they existed millions of years ago. As you follow the trail along the sun baked desert floor you really begin to appreciate the beauty and diversity of nature. I would never have imagined that being in such an unforgiving place could be so indescribably beautiful. After hiking back up onto the mesa, we hydrated and finished our journey through the park with a quiet sense of accomplishment. The kids earned their Junior Park Ranger badges, after completing a self guided booklet. The Jr. Ranger program is sponsored by the National Park Service, and is a great reinforcing tool to teach kids about the diversity, history and geology of each park. Heading home we stopped at a place that sells petrified wood and other items. I purchased a few pieces of petrified wood, a couple of geodes and a big chunk of obsidian (we are going to make our own arrowheads since we missed the class). Back at the campground, we grilled burgers and ate outside. I drank a few beers while my wife enjoyed a couple glasses of wine. It was the picture perfect ending of a picture perfect Father’s Day.

Welcome To The Grand Canyon......of Texas

We slept like rocks and it felt great. Losing an hour wasn’t bad either, as we got some additional sleep and still had the entire morning to get going. We were still behind schedule but closing in quickly. Our original plans called for a visit to Paulo Duro Canyon or also known as the Grand Canyon of Texas and dinner at the Big Texan, a local restaurant oddity, known for its 72oz steak dinner challenge. Because we got in so late, it did not appear that we would get everything done and reach Holbrook, Arizona in time to do what we planned. We were going to take the kid’s to Petroglyph National Monument in New Mexico. The folks there were conducting a seminar on how to make arrowheads and knife points out of local obsidian and other local materials, a process called flint knapping. We called Petroglyph first thing in the morning and were told that all of the seats available for the class were taken, so that took a little pressure off. The kid’s were disappointed, but hey there was still the Big Texan. Since Petroglyph was out of the picture, it freed up some time for us to visit Paulo Duro and the Big Texan for lunch, before heading to Arizona.

I’ll say one thing for Amarillo; it sure is flat. Anyone that gets hit by a daytime tornado out here would have to be blind and slow. You can see for miles in every direction, it is unbelievable. You get to Paulo Duro along the flattest stretch of highway you have ever seen, and then all of a sudden you are at this beautiful canyon. It is gorgeous! I have to say that Paulo Duro is a must see for anyone who visits Amarillo. We briefly walked along part of the rim and visited the visitor’s center before plunging into the caynon itself. Because we were pressed for time, we chose to drive the 6 plus mile loop and stopped intermittently for pictures and stuff. Pretty amazing stuff! Because we spent so much time at Paulo Duro, unfortunately we did not have the opportunity to go to the Big Texan for lunch.

We left Amarillo around 3:00pm and headed west. As we were leaving Texas and heading into New Mexico, we encountered some of the most beautiful scenery either of us has ever seen. Vistas and mountains, Mesas and high plains all painted in vivid hues of purple and green, white and pink. It was remarkable and instantly made everything we had encountered to date worth it. Well ok, maybe not the RV ordeal or the Jeep debacle. But it definitely more that made up for the bone jarring ride through Oklahoma and Arkansas and the creepy little deputy in the backwoods of Tennessee. We got into Holbrook, AZ around 10:00pm local time, again tired but excited that the journey was now going to begin in earnest. Holbrook is an old Rout 66 town and is home to the famous Wigwam Motel. It was also earned the reputation in the 1800’s as being “the town too tough for women and children”. I don’t know about that as my wife is pretty tough, but I do know that tomorrow we would be on schedule for the first time and things were looking up.

Better Late Than Never

Amarillo by morning…isn’t there a song that starts out something like that? Well, we didn’t get out of Memphis as early as I had hoped. In fact, we got out much later than I earlier anticipated. However, we quickly began the next leg of our journey and were heading west on our way to Amarillo, Texas. We were looking forward to this journey for quite some time, and problems aside I think everyone is having a pretty good time. I mean my wife has gotten motion sickness in every state that we have traveled thru, my kids spend more time playing video games then looking at the changing landscape, and I remain steadfastly behind the wheel, navigating the Turd from one locale to the next. This idea of traveling cross country was born from the nostalgic, romantic notions of motor coach travel on good old Rout 66. Connecting with the land, seeing our beautiful country close up in a way you never could from 30,000 feet. I have to call BS. The truth is that Tennessee appears to have a lot of trees and the only discernable difference between Arkansas and Oklahoma are the license plates on the cars. Yes it is true that Arkansas and Oklahoma both have a lot of trees also, but they also have long stretches of empty spaces, rolling hills and an interstate system that would rival that of a third world country. If you like thrill rides try driving a motor home thru Little Rock or Oklahoma City. When you’re finished, if you still have both you’re kidneys and you haven’t inadvertently peed in your pants, you should be proud. If I had to summarize my impressions of Oklahoma and Arkansas in one word it would be ASPHALT! As in get familiar with it buy it and use it! We spent 11 hours battling our way through some of the roughest terrain west of Port Au Prince (that’s in Haiti for all of our friend back in SC), only to reach Texas in the middle of the night. In all fairness to both states, the giant windmill farms in Okalahoma are really neat. There are miles and miles of these, huge wind driven turbines littering the landscape and seem to come straight from a War of the Worlds movie. In Arkansas, we had fun watching the old crop dusters working the field. Many of them would fly briefly alongside the interstate or cross over it at very low altitudes. The kid’s loved it and I must say that I did also. However, it is bad to say that the only memorable things we saw in Arkansas and Oklahoma was a hundred or so giant windmills, a few crop dusters and a gazillion potholes.

We got into Amarillo around 11:00pm local time. When we got to the campground we were surprised at the overall quaintness of the setting. It appeared that the campground was located at the convergence of two major railroad lines, one running north by northwest and the other running north by north east. Picture the tracks forming a “V” shape, with the campground located inside the “V”. Now, place the airport at the top of the “V” and well, you get the picture. Anyway, we pulled into the campground, retrieved our assignment information and proceeded to our slot. Pulling in to our slot, I prepared to go out and hook up the RV to the water & power. I no sooner reached the door when the gas alarm began to shriek. My wife and I, both bleary eyed from a very long day of travel, stood there and started to laugh as a train pulled past us drowning out the screams of the shrieking alarm.

Resaon Number 41 on Why Not To Purchase An RV From Tom Johnson

I got up around 4:00am in order to start moving things out of the Turd. Around 6:00 or so my cousin and I set out to bring the RV to the Chevy dealership and determine what in God’s name is wrong now….sorry I get a little emotional. Anyway, we set out, braving Memphis traffic and got to the dealership right at 7:00am. As we were going through the paperwork, the service advisor was having problems entering the RV’s VIN number into the computer. Each time he would enter the number into the computer, it would spit it right back. We walked out to the Turd and looked around the vehicle for the VIN, wrote down the number and went back inside. Upon further review, it rapidly became apparent that the VIN number on all of the vehicle documents; title, registration, extended warranty, insurance, Tire Guard, etc., did not match the actual number on the RV itself. The yahoos over at the RV dealership recorded the wrong number when it processed the sale, so everything was void. The service associate was sure that the warranty company would not approve the work if the VIN information did not match. As they took the RV into a service bay, I proceeded to the customer waiting area, spending the better part of an hour, ripping the people at TOM JOHNSON RV a new one. Then I called my insurance company, and so on and so on…you get the picture. It appears that said yahoo, carelessly transposed one digit, placing an “H” in the sequence of numbers where a “4” belonged. The good news is that I got it all taken care of while receiving an unintended cardio workout at the same time. It appears that I hit and maintained my targeted heart rate for the better part of an hour, all without the benefit of a jump rope or a treadmill.

So the service guy comes back and informs me that the RV has a bad ABS sensor on the right tire. He said that the brakes were fine, but we did not have the additional protection of anti-lock brakes. He said they did not carry the part and to order it would be a 2-3 day process. Gary is the advisors name, and he really did everything he could to help us. He recorded all of the information, the part number, and the telephone number for Workhorse (the chassis manufacturer). He recommended that we call in the order and have it sent to a dealership near our destination. It would arrive in time for us to bring it by a dealership there and that the repair would take no more than 2 hours. This guy did everything but pay for the diagnostic. I have finally met a customer service rep who is actually concerned with customer service. So, if you are ever in Memphis and need to get some work done on your vehicle, go see Gary at Hutton Chevrolet. It seemed like there might be a reversal of fortune beginning here, that lady luck might begin to smile our way. Now I know that it was still very early in the day and we had a lot of road between us and our next destination; a date with a 72oz steak and a side of mountain oysters.

Day 2...Part 2

We got into Memphis around 4:30pm tired, dejected and hungry. I was resigned to the fact that we were going to be in town for a while and fearful that a good portion of our vacation would be spent here. We met my aunt and some of my cousins and their families for dinner around 6:45 at the Rendezvous. This place is one of my favorite restaurants in the whole world and it is now one of my wife’s as well. The Rendezvous is a classic Memphis BBQ joint, located in a basement and its main entrance sitting in an old alley way. It is dark and lively with an ambiance that screams 1950. The waiters are old school, mostly black males in white button down shirts and bow ties. I have heard that some earn as much as $100K per year in tips. The place is world famous for its ribs, slow cooked over charcoal, basted in a vinegar solution and topped with a generous amount of dry BBQ rub. In fact the Rendezvous put Memphis style dry rub ribs on the map. When we sat down the waiter began taking drink orders my wife ordered a big wine and I ordered a martini. He said “we only serve beer and wine”. “OK, I’ll have a Heineken Light instead”, I replied. “That will be one Heineken” he said, “We don’t have light”. “Never mind, I’ll change that to a Sam Adams Light if you have it” I said, not wanting the heavy beer. He nodded, took the rest of our orders and left. When he returned with the drinks, he brought my wife 2 glasses of chardonnay and me a Heineken. What the hell, it was ice cold, tasted great, and I wasn’t driving. We enjoyed appetizers plates of smoked sausage & cheese, and the best smoked lamb baby backs I have ever eaten; and of course Heineken. We never had to ask the server for anything, beer half gone, out with a fresh one. My wife’s wine getting low, out with two more (she has splitting them with my cousin). Then came the ribs! Of course there are other items on the menu; pork, brisket & chicken…but when you go to the Rendezvous you go for the ribs. They were awesome; not as tender as traditional restaurant style ribs but great none the less. We got back to my cousins place and our wives engaged in a little small talk as I quickly fell asleep sitting up on the couch. It was great to see all these people I grew up with, meeting their husbands, wives and kids. It was awesome to revisit a great restaurant, share that experience with my wife and kids, and see it become a favorite of theirs. However, as much as I enjoyed the evening, I was quietly fearful that tomorrow would certainly bring bad news. The type of bad news that could end our vacation before it even began.

Day 2....Part 1

Day 2 started out in a fairly unremarkable fashion. We got up around 7:00am local time and immediately got ready. We were in a hurry to get going so we showered, ate breakfast and got on the road. We planned to hook up with some family in Memphis and all of us were going to have dinner at the world famous Rendezvous later that evening (pronounced: Ron-day-voo for our friends back in SC). We were traveling down I-40 for about an hour or so when I decided it was time to get fuel. The plan was to pull into one of those travel centers that seem to be popping up everywhere and top off the Turd with petro. However, this guy in a little Honda refused to let me over and I missed the turn, having to go about 3 miles further on this god forsaken side road until I found a site suitable for a u-turn. In any event, we pulled into the travel center and began fueling the RV, checking the tires and washing the windows. Upon leaving we were forced to make a sharp right hand turn out of the parking lot and a quick, equally sharp left onto the interstate ramp. Immediately I realized that there was something wrong. The Turd was handling horribly, bouncing all over the place and really running rough. It was like I had a flat tire or something. I pulled over to the side of the interstate and checked all of the tires. That was scary, because unlike a regular car, the Turd takes up the entire shoulder of the road. Believe me when I say that a situation like that really tests your faith. Not your faith in God but your faith in that other supreme being…your wife. With zero room between the left said of the RV and the dangerous rush of oncoming traffic, I could not safely look around the front side of the RV with out the risk of immediate death. With the stakes so high and the pressure so intense you could cut it with a knife, my wife was sitting peacefully in the driver’s seat with a slight, sardonic smile. At that moment, thoughts began racing through my mind; how much life insurance do I have again…what does my living will say about vegetative states…and then there was that smile, that slight peaceful smile. It was really quite un-nerving. Upon reciting my concerns to my wife, she casually said that she was not smiling at the thought of my immediate demise or the promise of a big insurance pay off. She was simply amused by the fact that I chose not to go around to the back of the RV so I could safely look at the left side tires while keeping an eye on oncoming traffic. Then she muttered something that sounded like dumb ass, made a veiled reference to the merits of natural selection, and started smiling again.

Anyway, there were no problems with the tires and nothing wrong with the tow package or the jeep itself. Pulling back on to the interstate it was obvious that the problem remained and that the Turd continued to handle poorly acting as if we had a flat. We got off at the next exit and pulled into another travel center. This time the cabin filled with an acrid smell and the ABS light came on. After consulting the owner’s manual it was apparent that the RV can operate without the ABS system as long as none of the other brake lights were glowing. We decided that it would be fine to drive the Turd to a repair facility to have the brakes looked at. I don’t know if the brake seized up or the jeep was misaligned due to the sharp turns made earlier, but the problem with the handling disappeared although the ABS light remained on. As we traveled to Memphis, I attempted to call every RV repair shop and dealership in and around Memphis. As you would come to expect by now, none of the RV places worked on ABS and referred me to Chevrolet. Every Chevy place save one did not have the lift capacity to work on the RV and thus could not help us. So I was forced to make an appointment for 7:00am the following morning at a dealership in downtown Memphis. I am going to end the entry here, though it is not the end of the story. I will post part 2 later in the day.

UPDATE - UPDATE - UPDATE

Sorry about the lapse in between posts! There is zero Internet service in the Grand Canyon and spotty cell service at best. We have been keeping a daily journal and were just waiting to get back into range so we could post

Day One: The Journey Begins

It has been a while since my last post as I needed to process everything that has happened to us over the past couple of days. If you have been reading this blog then you know that we have already experienced our fair share of trials and tribulations, all occurring before we left on this magnificent journey. We have been hoping that we got all of the bad stuff out of the way and were looking forward to a fun filled and relaxing time. Ha! For starters, we were late getting out of town because of severe weather and difficulties with the Brake Buddy braking system used for the Jeep. We were not completely comfortable that the apparatus was working correctly so we called the company’s customer service number. My wife got hold of them and proceeded to describe our concerns to the customer service representative. Is it plugged in? Are the transmitter and receiver installed correctly? Installed correctly? You plug them into a cigarette lighter. Anyway, he proceeded to tell us that Brake Buddy was an inertia based system and that it only worked after attaining speeds in excess of 15 mph. She asked the man how we would know if it was working properly, given it is installed in a jeep, being towed behind an RV, traveling in excess of 15 mph? The answer is that you won’t. FYI…this comforting thought can be yours also for a mere $3,500.

So we finally get on the interstate and begin making good progress when the bottom falls out and we are inundated by severe weather. Outside of Knoxville, the lightning was so intense that we began searching the radio for alerts because I was certain that dodging a tornado was now going to be part of our itinerary. We finally got a station that provided a brief weather update and the DJ said that though there were scattered thunderstorms in the area, most people wouldn’t see any rain while some might experience brief periods of light precipitation. Needless to say that it poured on us for 2 straight hours only letting up slightly as we were sitting in stop dead traffic because they just closed a section of I-40 due to an accident. We eventually reached a point where they were detouring traffic on to some lonely 2 lane road. I slowed down to ask the deputy about getting back on the interstate. He muttered something back in a dialect that can only be described as Pigeon English, further complicated by a slight lisp and severe southern drawl. Like a bobble headed doll, I nodded and headed off into the dreary night. As we were pelted by rain and slowed by a developing fog bank, I told my wife that the setting had all of the makings for a bad B-movie. We finally, mercifully found our way to the campground around midnight. As we pulled in to hook up the Turd, our LP gas alarm sounded. It has had an annoying habit of doing this intermittently ever since we bought the RV back in February. Of course this was one of the items that was scheduled to be fixed by the RV dealer back in May. You can only imagine our delight when we discovered at this most opportune moment that they had not fixed it. So we attempted in vein to stop the shrieking alarm for a half hour or so, eventually piling up sleeping bags, pillows and a floor mat to muffle the sound. It must have done the trick as the alarm abruptly ended and we settled in for a well deserved good nights sleep. We said our goodnight, flopped onto the bed and listened to the wonderful sounds of silence. “Tomorrow will be a better day” I said, “yes tomorrow will be better” my wife replied. It was at that poignant, blissful moment that the alarm sounded again.

Tomorrow would be better…how could it be any worse.

Would Those be Steak, Shoestring or Calf Fries?

I can’t believe that the time is nearly at hand. Everything is set and the last few remaining wrinkles are being ironed out. The Turd is in great shape, the Jeep is working fine and there have been no additional problems as of yet to report. We are looking at a mid-week departure and the kid’s couldn’t be more excited. As the big day nears, we have been working to develop basic itineraries for each day of our journey. Nothing set in stone, just ideas and information about points of interest in the event we have more down time in a location than we expect. At a recent gathering, some friends told us that they once lived in an area we will be passing through, and made some recommendations as to what we should do while we are in town. One of the options they recommended is a large cowboy steakhouse that is apparently the home of the original “Texas Gut Buster” steak dinner. The deal is that if you eat a 72 ounce steak, shrimp cocktail, baked potato and salad within the allotted time frame, in this case one hour, you don’t have to pay for the meal. Apparently they even have a live feed (no pun intended) on their website, so you can watch the gluttony live online. Perusing the menu I noticed a number of interesting items such as fried rattlesnake and mountain oysters, which apparently are quite a regional delicacy. Here is a little advice…if you ever find yourself in a place that offers mountain oysters and have a hankering for seafood…go with the shrimp. Don’t let the name fool you. For the uninformed, mountain oysters are not some sort of fresh water mollusk. They are in fact, the byproduct of a process that turns a bull into a steer. Are you with me? Think castration…now you have the picture. Apparently cowboys used to throw them on the open fire, waited until they popped and then ate them with a plate of beans. In some neck of the woods they are referred to as calf fries, so savvy traveler beware! My wife said that she thinks that I am the perfect candidate for the 72 ounce steak challenge. I told her that the only way I would consider it is if she ate the mountain oysters first. Of course she is way too smart to fall for this ploy. Understandably she sternly refused to even consider the mountain oysters upon discovering their true origin. So the challenge is off for now and it looks like I will be having the Prime Rib and my wife will probably have a chicken sandwich with a side of fries….perhaps I will recommend the calf fries?

Stay tuned.

Stupid is as Stupid Does

You know what they say about clichés…that they wouldn’t be cliché if they weren’t true? I buy it. Here a few of my favorites clichés; all’s well that ends well (a timeless classic); life is like a box of chocolates (I love my movies); and from my friend Mary, the journey will be more memorable than the destination. That last one is prophetic. If you have read our accounts to date, you quickly realize that we are already in over our heads. We don’t leave for two weeks or so and I feel as if I have just given birth to an accountant…or better yet twin accountants. The good news is that yesterday we were able to bring the babies home as I successfully completed my first attempt at driving the Turd with Jeep in tow. I wonder if I actually thought at one point that driving a 36-foot wind sail on wheels, across country and over crowded interstates would be relaxing. If I did then clearly I need to have my head examined. Add to it a 4,000 pound jeep and you’ve got the makings of serenity on wheels.

I picked up the new Jeep yesterday morning and the RV in the afternoon. As a precaution I called ahead to both dealerships, alerting the service consultants that we would be picking up our vehicles that day. The purchase of the new Jeep was flawless and after a quick bite and a bit of shopping I headed to the RV dealership. Upon arrival, I immediately proceeded to the service department. Maybe it was just my imagination but I must have made quite an impression the last time I was there. My regular service rep was off for the weekend, he was obviously still recovering from ass transplant surgery I humorously thought to myself. The new guy, bless his heart, looked like a sacrificial lamb as he pulled my file and realized that he was now face to face with the crazy guy they had all heard about. That may be an over dramatization, but the thought of it made me feel better. Anyway, whatever trepidation the guy was feeling was immediately increased when he realized that they could not find my keys and thus could not locate the Turd. I know those reading this are probably calling BS about now, but I swear this is the truth. After 10 minutes of watching the best damn impression of the Keystone Cops I had ever seen, I casually mentioned the possibility to one of the ladies that perhaps they had already moved the Turd to delivery, given I had called them earlier in the morning to alert them that we would be picking up the vehicle that afternoon. You could see a glimmer of hope wisp briefly across the man’s face as he headed out the door to explore this promising new lead. It was as I suspected, the missing RV was in fact in the delivery area and the service department…well they’re simply a bunch of incompetent baboons.

I told the service rep that he needed to walk me through the whole Jeep-RV hook up procedure and instruct me as to how the breaking system is assembled and operated. He said he would have to bring out one of the techs to demonstrate. So low and behold who comes meandering up to my Jeep but good old Cooter from the previous post. Now to his credit, old Cooter gave it his best shot, admirably attempting to do something he had obviously only seen it the movies. Now I don’t generally cast disparaging remarks about my fellow human beings, however for Cooter I will make an exception. As a refresher, Cooter was the guy who came up to me when my old jeep did not start, would not run and was missing all of the door linkage after sitting on their lot for over a week. It was good old Cooter who unsolicited said “I didn’t do nothing to your Jeep”. This has always struck me as odd. He was defending himself before he could have realistically known there was even a problem. Now here he was hooking up my tow system and obviously not remembering who I am. As he struggled, he could not understand why my new jeep was not responding like it should. You see, Cooter assured me that everything was hooked up right because he owns a ‘93 wrangler, one by his own admission he had just upgraded. It was at that moment I suggested to old Cooter that the reason for the system not working probably had less to do with the installation than it did with the fact that he did not have the keys in the ignition.

Stupid is as stupid does…oops, another cliché

The Journey is More Important Than the Destination

I have never been one to believe in omens or in signs, but after the last couple of weeks I would be less than honest if I said I wasn’t seriously considering their possibility. As you know from previous posts, we started this great adventure from scratch, purchasing the RV and accessories in February and an old Jeep wrangler to tow behind it in March. While by in large we have been happy with the RV itself, the service we have received to date from the dealer has been spotty at best. Anyway, having purchased the “Turd” as a previously owned vehicle, there were a few minor odds and ends that needed to be fixed by the dealer. There was nothing big, just a few cosmetic and interior issues. The jeep was purchased from a kid in our town. The body is in good shape and the engine was checked our by a local mechanic.

To make a long story short, we took both vehicles to the dealership to have a tow package installed. After a week I called to inquire as to the status of the Jeep as I was taking my kids camping that weekend. The guy calls me back the next day to inform me that the Jeep was indeed ready and could be picked up at any time. Then he asks me if I had been by to pick up the RV because they can’t find it. You can imagine my concern as well as that of the guy at the dealership. He said it was probably a clerical error and he would get to the bottom of it and call me back ASAP. Of course I wasn’t worried as I immediately began recalling in my mind which one of those real high priced honeys they were going to have to give me as a replacement. Well they found the RV and I arranged to pick up both vehicles over the weekend. As a side note, this dealership is located across from a major NASCAR track and the weekend in question happened to be that of the big race.

When I got to the dealership to pay, the invoice was over a $1,000 more than what I was quoted. They apparently do not include labor when quoting out the door pricing. Anyway, once the bill was settled, I accompanied the service manager (the same guy who lost the RV) out to the lot to take possession of the new and improved “Turd”. When we got outside, the RV was sitting there with the motor running, glistening in the sun. The door was open just waiting for my arrival and inspection. The problem is that someone hit a golf ball through the passenger side windshield leaving a sizeable hole and a number of long cracks. I guess the dealership thought I wouldn’t notice or something. Rest assured, what ensued was an ass chewing of epic proportions. Now when I say epic, I mean in terms it’s of the size and the duration. So, as you can imagine, I left the RV there for the dealership and their newly ass-less service people to repair.

When we were leaving we went to get into the Jeep that had been there for a week. The problem was that magically neither door would open with the key or the handle, nor would it start and stay running. Now the thing worked perfectly up to the point I dropped it off at the dealership. However, keep in mind that this is the same dealership that both lost the RV and then upon finding it, used it for target practice on a driving range. Noting the problem we were having with the Jeep, the service manager sent the two guys over who worked on it. One of these guys looked like the 1950’s version of Don Knotts, while the other was the spitting of Cooter on old “The Dukes of Hazard”. These guys were as useful as boobs on a bull, although they were able to get the jeep running. No sooner had we gotten right in the middle of race traffic, did the Wrangler give out, stranding us in the middle of a bunch of sweaty, beer guzzling, race fans, who by the way were pissed off at us for taking up more than one parking spot along the road. It took AAA three hours to reach us and to tow the jeep to a dealership. A few days later, I was informed that it needed a new fuel pump. Then I was informed that the gas tank was the wrong one and needed to be replaced along with the fuel filter. Then I was told that someone had removed all of the linkage in both doors. Do you see a pattern developing here? Then I was told that it would need a new cam shaft, head cover and finally, mercifully, a new engine. All this drama and the trip hasn’t even started yet. So yesterday evening, as I was purchasing a new jeep from the dealership, the ass-less service manager at the RV place called me to say in his most cheerful voice that the “Turd” was ready to be picked up. They say that timing is everything.

Boy I love it when a plan comes together!