"RV Trip from Hell"


“CARS = CASH” and “Cars: DEAD or ALIVE? Call us today!”

That was the business. We had ‘cornered the market’ on picking up junk vehicles. The free weekly newspaper had only three advertisements and two belonged to us; Jerry Sloane, tow truck driver, drag race enthusiast and car nut and me, Molly Thomas, ‘partner’, ‘long time other half’ and ‘shotgun’ paperwork handler/bookkeeper. The calls came in daily for junk or salvageable vehicles in all shapes and sizes.

Beep…Beep…Beep… “Hello, ‘Dead or Alive’, can I help you?” Jerry inquired in his thick, New Yorker accent. Grabbing his notepad and pen, he asked all the pertinent information and jotted it down. “OK, I can come take a look at it and see what we’ve got, say around 2 p.m.?” It was 12:50. He paused and scribbled down the address. “We’ll see you then,” he replied and quickly disconnected.

I was busy doing the dishes from the night before when he strolled into the kitchen with his usual swagger. “So what’s up?” as I dried off my hands and grabbed my coffee.

“I’ve got something to go look at, but don’t know if I’ll get it or not,” Jerry replied with a devilish grin, checking the time. “You don’t have to go, I won’t be long.”

“Where is this one?” I asked, as he changed to his prescription shades.

“Across town, in Myrtle Grove, OK, got to go,” he said, leaning to give me a goodbye kiss.

Out the door he went. The diesel motor fired up and off he went.

Two hours passed and the truck pulls in the driveway. I looked out the window, but there was nothing on the ‘hook’. “Well, I guess he didn’t get it,” I said softly as the back door opened and shut.

Jerry walks in, smiling from ear to ear. “Guess what?” he said eagerly.

That tone always meant oh no, what now, but I could see his overwhelming excitement. “OK, tell me, what did you go look at?” half leery of his answer.

With an impish grin, Jerry replied, “a 1998 Fleetwood RV!” He stopped for a second, waiting for my reply, then continued, “It’s a little trashed on the inside from the woman’s piece-of-shit boyfriend that she kicked out, it needs a transmission, but it has all new tires and the motor runs great. It’s fixable and she only wants $2000 for it!”

“So are you going to get it? Can’t be all that good if she called us?” I could see his ‘wheels’ turning. “With the bad transmission, it will have to be towed. It’s too big, isn’t it?”

“Well…” drawing out his sentence. “I already gave her half…I need you to go over there with me, so I can drive it home.”

“OK, when? Is it drivable? That doesn’t make sense if the transmission needs to be fixed.”

Without delay he replied, “It drives forward…we can fix it up, won’t cost that much and then take it when we go to Pennsylvania for July. Remember, we’re going to ‘try it out’…something we need to do if we are even considering moving back up there. In the long run, it would be cheaper, I think, we wouldn’t need to get a room for a month…and you know I’ve ALWAYS wanted an RV like this, to go to the track and be comfortable…” as he ran out of breath.

The trip to Pennsylvania was already planned, to arrive and celebrate July 4th with my son and his family and stay to ‘work’ for the rest of the month. I smiled, “Yes, I know, but can we fix it in time to take it?” It was Thursday, May 5, which meant all the work had to be done in less than two months. If the transmission was the only real issue, it seemed doable.

“I think so, I’ll call Ronnie, my transmission guy and see what he can do and the rest is just little stuff and cleaning from top to bottom.”

“All right, you take care of the mechanics and I’ll do the cleaning…that’s what I’m good at,” I responded, wondering what have we gotten ourselves into now.
~~~~~

Friday morning came, and off we went for the scheduled 11 a.m. appointment. Turning down 57th Street, I could see the ‘monster’ parked in a driveway, facing in, a few houses from the next intersection. “Is that it? Doesn’t look too bad, but how are you going to back it up with no reverse?”

“I’ll get it out…don’t worry, I just need you to follow me home,” Jerry stated as we pulled up to the residence. He jumped out; I turned the car around and patiently waited.

Twenty minutes passed and the brake lights came on, then the backup lights. Slowly the RV inched backward and into the street. “Hey…not sure this is going to make it home, just stay with me. I’m not going over 20 m.p.h. OK?” was Jerry’s walkie-talkie message.

“OK, let’s go…” Home was 15 miles away, would we make it?

It was as big as a bus, with no windows in the back, only a remote camera, but it did work. Jerry turned down our street and pulled slowly into our front yard. I pulled into the driveway and parked, got out of the car and walked to the driver’s side of the RV. “Well, is this where it’s staying?”

“Yep, for now, transmission is shot, didn’t think I was going to make it,” as he turned off the roaring 454 big-block Chevy engine. The front yard was full, the house completely blocked by this new ‘addition’.

~~~~~

The Mercedes transmission needed to be completely rebuilt, May was coming to an end and the RV was still in the same location. Jerry tried to lift the front end with the tow truck winch, but 20,000 pounds was just too much. It strained but managed, raising the RV high enough to block it up. Another problem reared its ugly head. The airbags had been slashed and needed to be replaced to level the chassis. The rebuilt transmission was finally ready and installed. Now the fun of getting it into the backyard, through the gated fence created another problem, they just weren’t wide enough. So, Jerry removed the gates from their hinges, folded the RV mirrors in and pressed onward. After inching through the tight squeeze, he parked it in the back yard. He hooked up the electric and water from the house and we set out to ‘evaluate’ the repairs.

Half of the interior lighting didn’t work. The control panel for the stove, water, gauges for the gray water and black water tanks and the onboard propane tank were inoperable. Tiling was ripped from the walls and the glass lamp shades were smashed. The ceilings, walls and carpets were disgusting! One thing that did work…we had kick-ass A/C! So the ‘rebuild’ and ‘cleanup’ began. First, we needed to fumigate. It was polluted with Palmetto bugs. For days the shop/vac hummed, the air filled with the scent of bleach and ‘Febreze’, little by little it was coming together.

The first week of June and the inside electric was still a problem. Luckily I had saved two small fuses I’d found on the kitchen counter. The fuse-box was checked and rechecked, but Jerry and his mechanic friend Chuck had completely missed the open fuse connections. Replacing them, the important stuff was functioning again.

Work was at its peak, and each junk vehicle had at least some, if not quite a bit, of fuel in the gas tanks. So Jerry began the ‘fueling’, every little bit helped to fill the 75-gallon tank of the RV. The days were long but the preparations for the trip continued. The last week of June arrived, the airbags still weren’t fixed, but Jerry couldn’t do them. It was Tuesday, June 28th. We planned on leaving Friday, July 1st by 12 noon.

“I’ve made an appointment with someone Chuck knows to put the airbags in. He can do them tomorrow. The leveling gear still isn’t working, but I’ll take a couple jacks with us,” Jerry said confidently, and added, “Looks like we’re going ‘RVing’ ”.

“It’s a holiday weekend, and we still haven’t made campground reservations yet. That might be the decision maker here,” I replied.

“Let’s get the airbags fixed first and then I’ll call. Look through the RV Guide and see what’s close.”

I looked for campgrounds near my son and folded down the pages in the guide. The cell rang and we were off again on another ‘pick-up run’.

Jerry took the RV and had the airbags replaced. Wednesday evening he checked the air pressure. There was a problem. One had lost all its air. Thursday morning he called the man back and told him the problem. The RV went back to the shop and discovered the replacement set had a manufacturer defect, and a second set was put in and they were fine.  The remote steps were also fixed to extend and retract when the door opened and closed.

Days before Jerry had tried to find someone to mount towing brackets on the front of the tow truck, but he had no luck. Everyone was busy and couldn’t even fit it in until after the 4th.

Thursday afternoon, less than 24 hours before we wanted to leave and we still didn’t have reservations. Jerry called the first on the list, I held my breath with my fingers crossed and miraculously we were in luck. Fifteen minutes from my son, available for the whole month and reasonably priced. Now we were set. All we had to do was load up.

Friday morning; food, clothes, mattress from the house and essentials were packed into the RV. It had ¾ of a tank of fuel, we were good to go. The only added expense, not accounted for, was ‘driving’ the tow truck instead of towing it behind the RV. Jerry was driving the RV…I had to drive the tow truck. Until that trip, I’d never been behind the wheel!

We managed to pull out of Pensacola at 3 p.m., 3 hours behind schedule. I sent text messages to my kids, told my son we’d see him Saturday evening. The trip, with good weather and no traffic trouble, would take 19-20 hours and an overnight stay would add another 6 to 8 hours. It was a hot and humid afternoon and we both looked forward to driving in the A/C.

The first leg of the trip, Pensacola, Florida to Birmingham, Alabama up I-65 was 250 miles, approximately 4 hours. Leaving when we did, it would probably take 5 hours or more, being Friday, close to rush hour and the beginning of a long holiday weekend. We expected some delays, but not what would happen. The generator constantly overheated and shut off, cutting all power to the RV, including the A/C. Having to stop numerous times until it cooled enough to restart it, the 4 hour trip turned to 8. By 11 p.m., we were both exhausted and frustrated. We pulled off I-65 and parked in a 24-hour Wal-Mart for the night. The generator worked all night and so did the A/C.

Saturday morning we set out for the rest of our trip. Jerry had rigged the generator door to stay open some 6” and the extra airflow remedied the overheating problem. Driving through Tennessee towards Knoxville on I-75, it was time to fuel up. The RV took $150 and the tow truck $50. Getting back to the interstate, it was now around 10 a.m. We were approximately halfway. Soon after we fueled, the RV problems began. It had no power and stalled repeatedly. I stuck behind the RV, traveling less than 40 M.P.H. with the hazard flashers on, pulling over at a moment’s notice to stay behind Jerry and the RV. The generator stopped running again. We’d wait; he’d get the RV started and drive along the shoulder as I got out into traffic so he could pull out in front of me. This went on repeatedly until he’d run out the fuel from the last fueling, a whole tank full of BAD GAS! Never stop at an off-brand station to save a few cents per gallon. Lesson learned!! We pulled off I-81 just south of Roanoke, Virginia, some 12 hours later. We refueled and found another Wal-Mart. We were only 5 hours from our destination but could go no farther.

Sunday morning, we left Roanoke around 8 a.m. All seemed to be working fine. We pulled into the campground, paid for our month-long stay and found our ‘lot’. It was a tight squeeze, on a hill. Directing Jerry from the rear of the RV, the motorized steps had unfolded and scraped along the ground, dislodging the closing mechanism so they wouldn’t retract. We finally got situated around 3 p.m. Sunday.

The 4th of July came and went, we ‘set up business’ for the Lancaster, York, Harrisburg area, and all month we spent most of our days on the road. We stopped to see a friend the day before we left and told her of our ‘horrendous’ trip. I made the comment, “Well, with a trip like that coming up, the trip back should be a breeze.”

The visit with family was fine and we were stopping to see my daughter in Greenville, South Carolina on our way home. On Thursday, July 28th, we packed up, unhooked and pulled out for home just before 12 noon.

We were on the road just two hours and the ‘fun’ began once again. Traveling through Harrisburg to get to I-81, the leveling jacks lowered without any warning and scraped and sparked on the ground. We were stuck in the middle of an intersection not able to move. Dragging our ‘ass’, we pulled into a shopping center parking lot to evaluate. After almost an hour, Jerry came up with an idea. He released the hydraulic fluid and they raised themselves. By now it was nearing rush hour. We finally did make it to I-81 and headed south. We stopped near Roanoke, Virginia for the night.

Friday morning, going a different direction home, we headed down I-77 toward I-85 at Charlotte, North Carolina. More problems with the generator, the stalling, oil pressure, and we never arrived in Greenville until 9 p.m., over 12 hours for a trip that should have only been 6. The generator oil plug had worked its way loose and had lost most of its oil. We went out to eat, visited with my daughter for a few hours and then went back to the RV. Parked in Wal-Mart again, everything worked fine.

We got up Saturday morning, had breakfast and started for home. On the road by 9 a.m., the last leg was pretty non-eventful and arrived back in Pensacola around 5 p.m. The house had been shut up for a month, in the worst heat of the summer. The RV was parked in the front yard, and we slept in it and the ‘kick-ass’ A/C for two nights after we got home.

It is now parked in the backyard and will remain there until EVERYTHING is in running order. I wrote this story, as a witness to the events, not as the driver of “the Beast”…

2011 © Gretchen Steen