Motorhome Checkup Adventures

A week or so ago I took my trusty old motor home in for its smog check and annual checkup (oil, belts, etc.) .  Had made an appointment the week before for the next Tuesday.  So far, so good.

Tuesday:  I arrived at the shop 1/2 hour before the place  opened. ( You know, first in line...)

Have it finished today?   Yep.  

No call Tuesday to pick up the vehicle.  I call right before the shop closes.  The smog is done- service first thing tomorrow morning.  OK.  I ask them to check the fridge and make sure the gas is still cooling it. If not, please hook it up to the electricity.  "Of course," they say.  "Check that right away."

Wednesday:  About closing time I call.  "Oh, we had another motor home we had to work on.  First thing tomorrow morning"  OK...,

Thursday: No call! And I missed calling them.  Grrr.  It is hot. I, the world's worst motor home parker have to park that thing. I am not a happy camper in the sweltering heat of a California August.

Friday about noon:  " It's ready.  That'll be $150."  OK... But you will have to pick me up as I am not walking the 2 miles to the shop in the blazing 150 degree sun.  "We'll be right there"

One hour later, another call. "The guy is on his way"  OK.  I am burning in more than one way, but I am nice.  I am not working in the blazing sun on someone's dam vehicle with sweat and grease running off my face and body. Being a mechanic in the summer is not an easy job.

As we  pull into the shop I see the owner, a quiet, hefty man, striding somewhere with a part swinging from his hand.  He does not look happy. He looks worn, bleak and sweaty.  He earns his money- the hard way.  

My motorhome is parked facing out(they know how I back)so I can easily pull it out and drive away. Good!. 

Cool it.  Be nice to the sweet gal in the muggy hot office.  Do not give the evil eye to anyone.  I manage that, but only barely.  My 'thank you' could have definitely been more heartfelt.

But I am thinking, 'They think us old folks don't need our stuff right away. And those young folks are going to take their business elsewhere if we don't tend to them right now.  And the old lady, she will wait 'til the cows come home, because she will not want to try and find a new reputable place' Grrr.. but pretty much true.

I grit my teeth on my sweaty tongue as I sign away my bank account.  Fair enough.  

I hop in the motor home, drive it home and park it in the drive facing the wrong way. I have to go to the dermatologist in less than an hour. NO time for a "A very Slow, Mentally Challenged Motor Home Backer". 

I leap in the car and zip through my Dr. appointment. All is well. 

By the time I get home I look like a derelict.  I change out of my "public" clothes, and run out and leap in the motor  home.  It won't start. Dam!  Finally I remember there is a button underneath the dash that will let me access the second battery, and it will start the vehicle if I push the button hard enough.  It does!  I look at the heat gauge. It is already half way to hot. Oh well, I shall park this dam thing if it kills me- (well, not quite, but almost). 

I roll it out into the road and around the block so I am facing the right way to back in.  I wait by the side of the road until the traffic clears and  boldly pull out from the curb and across the double yellow center lines.  I am Wonder Woman!  I get it just right, slam it into reverse, and creep backwards. I am trying to set the rear end just so~~ so it will back right into its slot in the side yard.   I am now blocking two cars in the road. I am nervous. I quickly back the baby out of the road. It is way too far over to one side. 

Now the dance begins.  I do not know what I am doing. I zig zag back and forth, sticking my sweaty head out the driver's window to see my front tire. I have learned that backing a motor home has nothing to do with how many turns you have done on the wheel. You gotta watch the front tire to see if it is moving.  Mean while, I have set out two red cones to use as guides. (I do not know how to use them correctly.) I zig-zag back. 

Oh oh, better get out and check to see if I am going to run into anything with the lift that sticks out on the back. Oh- and the other side of the motor home which I cannot see. Last backing adventure, I took out a 10 ft high post. No comment.

I put her in park, slam down the brake, leap out in the  boiling sun and survey my handiwork.  How did I get it here?? It's not where it belongs.... Now,.. if I just set her a little more over 'here' in the back, and move the front a little more over 'there', I will have it made.  

Not so easy.  read that last little bit abut the dance about 15 times, and you will know just how lame a backer I am.  But I do have grit.  I decide I will stay at my station till hell freezes over- which would be a great improvement on the current climate conditions.

Finally, I get her positioned right, and am able to put her in her place- a bit at an angle, but at least upon the one wheel block I have to use.  Wooo Hooo!  I am Wonder Woman for sure!

I proudly hook up the electricity, feeling confident and almost like I just won an Olympic medal.  I hop up into the motor home part itself and open the fridge to get a cold iced tea.  What!! the fridge is as warm as the outside air. It is  OFF!!  I quickly turn off the gas and shut down the valve in hopes the Automatic little light on the front of the fridge will come on and all will be well.  Nope.  Now the dam fridge is not working.  What did they do??  (gotta be someone's fault!)

I call the shop.  The office gal thinks she mentioned checking the fridge to someone.  "Be right Back"  When she returns, she gives me the name of an rv repair place that will check out the problem with my very expensive, practically new fridge.

"Just call first for an appointment"  In this kind of weather? You will wait 'til winter sets in before you get someone to look at your fridge. (Motor home fridges never break down unless it is screaming hot and you need it NOW!)  I am sure there is a long line at every motor home fridge center in southern California and Arizona full of puzzled owners like me.

Instead, I try the trick of randomly pushing all the buttons and holding them down a bit.  Then I go out and open the fridge service compartment and stare at all the unidentifiable components that I have no idea what they do.  I flick dust off a few, study them a bit more, try to read the fine print on the tiny parts, and, having thoroughly finished my inspection, close the compartment.

I go in the house and block it out.  My brother is coming over. He is an electrical genius. I will drop this compliment in his ear before I tell him my motor home fridge will not cool.  He will run out and start searching for problems before he gets in the house.  I know my brother!  He will have just arrived after a 9 hour drive from Yosemite.  And this will be his reward. I am so caring and giving.  There is nothing he likes better than an electrical appliance on the blink. I feel good.