After an enjoyable day of looking at more horses we returned to the coach and planned our trip to Wildwood. We have decided on a name for our beautiful coach...Mary, after The Queen Mary. Our route involved turning on the Tom Tom, muting the sound, driving a quarter mile to Interstate 75 and heading south. Simple. Good plan.
John hooked the car up to Mary on Friday night and we had dinner and enjoyed our last evening at the Cartersville KOA. It was quiet, in a pretty park-like setting and the owners were so helpful and pleasant. The pull-through spaces were large and neighbors weren't so close that you could hear each other sneeze. It had wireless internet and cable television and a great place for Breezy to play Frisbee. Being card carrying members of KOA we decided to see if there was another one close to Wildwood. So I got on the KOA website and as luck would have it there was one just 4 miles from the Monaco Service Center in Wildwood where we plan to leave Miss Mary on Monday for a few repairs. Perfect! Here is what the website said about the Wildwood KOA:
"Strike out in any direction from the Wildwood KOA, and you’ll discover something terrific. Head north or east to unspoiled lakes, forests and horse country. Head southeast to Orlando’s endless attractions. Head west to spring-fed rivers, Gulf Coast beaches and gems like Homosassa Springs Wildlife State Park. Manatees, alligators, otters, bobcats and dozens of bird species gather near the natural spring. Take advantage of a nearby canoe or hiking trail. Enjoy an airboat ride on the Withlacoochee River.
At KOA, enjoy the solar-heated pool, mini golf and holiday potlucks. You might even pick up some foreign language phrases while you’re there. The staff speak German, French and Tagalog. During the winter season, be entertained with live music and trips to local attractions. Six restaurants are within walking distance."
You will probably want to reference that description again later.
Back to our trip. On Saturday morning we woke up early and ate breakfast while the sun came up. It was frosty and cold and we were looking forward to an easy 7 hour trip down I-75 to Wildwood where it was forecast to be 78 degrees. Heaven. We walked through our pre-launch checklist and John fired up the big diesel. All of the lights, bells, chimes, whistles, and buzzers signaled correctly and the transmission pump unit was showing one green light. A great start. John got out to do one last walk around before our departure and when he stepped outside and closed the door the transmission pump unit changed from one green light to one green light and one red light (on Thursday it was one green light and one yellow light). Knowing the reception that the news would elicit from the Pilot I slid down in my cushy seat, told Breezy to keep her head down and waited for him to come back. When he stepped into the coach I delivered the news. "What does that mean?" he asked. "Damned if I know," I say as I head to the cabinet to wrangle the Super Bible out. Of course once again I pulled down the wrong box. Murphy is doing well at my expense. So I finally get the little owner's manual out and sure enough there is no description of what a red light and a green light means. By now there is a lot of big sighs going on and lots of why's and what the hell's. The Pilot announced that he was going to call Dan's Hitch. Why Dan's Hitch is not on speed dial by now I'm not sure but a call to them requires that I get online and get the number from their website. I've done it so often that I know the web address by heart. I get the number and point out as I'm handing the phone to him that Dan's Hitch doesn't open until 8:00. It's 7:40. Undeterred he pushes "send" and the phone call is placed. 30 seconds later he hangs up after having talked to no one. Now he is pissed off...doesn't understand why the dang thing is doing what it is doing. He makes two trips to the Camry putting his ear to the hood and announcing that he can hear the transmission pump running. With that he buckles up in his cushy pilot seat and puts the coach in gear. I issue a quick prayer to the transmission gods and we roll.
Two miles down the highway I'm feeling very jittery and doing one of those visualizations that I'm so good at (transmission parts flying out from under the Camry breaking someone's windshield and spawning a lawsuit...not to mention all of that stuff about calling a cab to go to the grocery store) and irritated no end by a noise that I can't identify. Every noise in the coach is a reason to be on alert at this point because we just aren't familiar with what it all means. On top of it John's hearing isn't as good as it once was and I have always had dog hearing. So I'm always saying, "What's that noise?" and he's always answering, "What noise?" Either I'm going to have to stuff cotton in my ears or its time for a hearing aide for the Pilot. The balance point in this is that he can see like an eagle at a distance and I'm blind as a bat at a distance without my bifocals which I can never find because I can't remember where I left them. Welcome to middle age... I digress.
At 8:00 on the dot he places another call to Dan's Hitch. He reaches some poor soul and announces that we have a red light AND a green light and what the hell does that mean and that with his ear to the hood of the car he can hear the transmission pump running. The guy makes the mistake of suggesting that we bring it in so that they can look at it. I had eased back to the galley to stay out of he fray and over the sound of the diesel I heard him say, "I'M in GEORGIA!". He said something about probably not coming back to Elkhart in this lifetime and after a short conversation he hung up. Breezy put her head down on her bed and sighed. I finally made my way back to my cushy seat and eased into it. I said, "What's that sound?" He said, "What sound?" I didn't answer but reached over and started fiddling with the fan on the heating/air conditioning unit thinking that the bird that lives in that unit was really unhappy. It's normally just a little chirpy thing when the air is running. I turned the fan off. That wasn't it. John said, "What noise?" again. I said, "THAT noise...the one that is deafening me!" He looked at me like I was on LSD. Finally I got down on my hands and knees and put my ear close to the transmission pump unit and discovered to my horror that it was the unit that was emitting a high pitched, high speed chirp. It sounded like the alarm was going off but was somehow faulty. "SHIT," I said as I heaved myself back in my cushy seat. More visions of disaster danced in my head.
It was time for a pit stop. John eased big Mary over and parked her. He got up and headed for the loo. When I heard the door close I glanced over at the stupid transmission pump unit and glared hard at it. It went silent. "Holy crap," I say to myself as I sit up. The red light was gone and the unit was quiet. Jubilation ensued.
Back on the road. I decided that it was time to organize that overhead cabinet where the Super Bibles reside (I'm determined to even the score with Murphy) so as we were traveling I was pulling stuff out of the cabinet and sorting it out. In it I found a folder of some of the RV junk mail that we had accumulated since we started joining RV clubs. In the folder I found a complimentary Flying J RV membership card in the pile of papers. I read the literature and took it up to the cockpit. "Guess what?" I say waving the card and happily plunking into my cushy seat. "What?" he says. "We have a complimentary Flying J discount card. It earns us a discount on fuel at the pump!" I say smiling. "How much?" he asks. "A penny a gallon!" I say. I can see him calculating. "So if I put 75 gallons in the tank we will save seventy-five cents," he says. "Yeah! Isn't that great?" I beam. He gives me a sideways glance. "Oh yeah. That will delay our trip to the poor house by at least five minutes per tank," he says and we both disolve into hysterical laughter. We laugh a lot. Life is good.
John drove us down to Valdosta on the Florida/Georgia border while I worked on my last blog post. He decided it was time to top off the fuel tank. There was a Flying J truck stop/travel plaza just off Exit 2. We eased off of the Interstate and he guided big Mary toward the RV island. There were two lines for RV's to fuel up and both of them were backed up to the street. I'm discovering that any opportunity to be around other RV's is a good thing for me because I happen to think that Queen Mary is about the coolest motor coach on the road. While we waited for the RV's to move through I put a leash on Breezy and took her to a grassy area for a walk. As I walked I looked at each RV telling myself that Mary was cooler, Mary was classier, Mary was just the most special coach in the group. She doesn't have a hard line on her and she is regal...like her namesake. I also noticed that every coach had two men in it. I wondered to myself if there was a gay RVers rally in the area. When I got back to the coach with Breezy John announced that Daytona week was going on. Ohhhhhhh! Okay. That explains all of the RVs and all of the guys. $250.00 later we were back on the road. We drove about three miles when John says, "Too bad we can't pull a gas tanker with this." We both disintegrate into hysterical laughter again.
After the transmission pump crisis things went so smoothly on the way to Wildwood that we were actually enjoying our longest stretch of relaxation to date. The Pilot loves driving Mary. He says she's a dream to handle. I'll probably find out when we head west. Probably somewhere out in West Texas. So we take the Wildwood Exit and find the entrance to the KOA park. John eases Mary down a palm tree lined driveway and up to the office. All of the KOA offices look the same...an A frame looking wood construction building. While he was in the office attempting to understand the man who is checking us in (the internet desciption did say something about learning a new foreign phrase or two...) I'm in the coach getting the lay of the land at this KOA. In front of me a woman driving a 70's vintage beater with no fenders and a baby propped on her hip is having a small propane tank filled and is blocking the driveway. To the left is a basketball hoop. That's cool. But the only way you could shoot hoops would be in the driveway...in traffic. There is also a shuffleboard court and a horseshoe pit. To my right I can see the park. You know how you feel when you check into a hotel that you found on the Internet and the photos make it look like a five star resort and when you get there it is a mega-dive? That about sums it up. This was a mega-dive RV park.
So John came back from the office and we rolled our eyes at each other. No, we decide, we are not going to be negative. It might be better than what our first impression was telling us. Actually it was hollering at us but we chose to be positive. We unhooked the car and I led the way into the park with the Camry keeping big Mary in my mirror as I drove. When I made the reservation I had to make a choice between the large and the extra large spaces. I chose large. As I discovered extra large came with a view of the dumpsters. Large gave us a perfect view of the public showers.
For a moment let me go back to just before we left Lexington. On Thursday before we left John de-winterized the coach (it was winterized in Elkhart...water systems filled with a non-toxic antifreeze). He drained and rinsed it and tested all of the working parts. He came home after spending part of a day with big Mary with a slightly dejected look on his face. He announced that everything was working perfectly except that he couldn't get the shower to work. "Call Dennis," I suggest. He hesitated. "Well there are a few more things to try," he said. That's cool with me. He went to the farm the next morning and called me later, frustrated. "I still can't figure out why it won't work. It has to be something simple," he says. I agree. It's probably something simple. He came home later in the day still befuddled by the shower. "Just call Dennis," I say. No, he would figure it out. We are counting down to our maiden voyage and he didn't want to delay it. Dennis has weekends off (which he probably cherishes after dealing with us) so John couldn't talk to him until Monday morning. Our original launch date was set for Sunday. John says to me, "Well if I can't get it to work we could still leave Sunday and use the public showers in the RV parks." I just stared at him. Then I shook my head. "We own a fabulous nearly new 42 foot class A Monaco Dynasty motor coach and you are suggesting that we shower in a public shower?" I could see that he immediately connected to the folly of his suggestion. "If I am ever in prison I'll take a public shower. Call Dennis." The trip was delayed, he called Dennis on Monday and as we both suspected it was a simple thing. Weather delayed us on Tuesday and finally on Wednesday we left, complete with a working shower.
In my next post I'll attempt to describe the joys of spending two days at the Wildwood KOA. We are in Vero Beach now after dropping big Mary at the Monaco service center where she will have her awning repaired and a few other little adjustments so that she will be ready for our next adventure. The weather is beautiful and Breezy is thrilled to be going to the beach for her morning and evening walks again. As a very good friend of ours wrote after the first two posts, "Breezy deserves a Gold Star for putting up with your lifestyle!" We agree!
No comments:
Post a Comment