“Slow down!”
“I am going slow.”
I bark, reducing my speed from seven miles per hour to three.
“You’re making me
nervous.”
“I’m doing the best I
can, there are cars trying to get around me.”
“They can wait.”
“Stop yelling…”
“I’m not yelling, I’m
nervous.”
And so it goes.
We are heading out for our first road trip since buying a 36
foot fifth wheel. On the sales lot, the
“coach” held the promise of serenity. Dark shiny polished wood, faux tile floors,
luxurious leather recliners and a king sized pillow top mattress. Clearly this
was designed to remedy whatever 21st Century malady ails you.
Visions of quiet morning sunrises with freshly brewed coffee swim in your head
as you sign the bundle of documents needed to take possession. The week and a half needed to install a hitch
capable of towing 20,000 pounds (and the propane generator I insisted on to
“camp” in style when there are no 50 amp services available) seem to drag on
forever.
And finally the day arrives.
“Good afternoon sir, how may I help you?”
“I’m here to pick up my trailer.” I proudly beam, feeling
this should impress the pudgy acne faced boy, who must have been told to expect
us (we did receive our Good Sam Elite Membership cards just days
before…)
“So, you have already completed orientation?” He asks,
clearly more amused than impressed.
“Uh, no…” tumbles my sheepish response.
And for the next two hours we are guided through switches,
control panels, gadgets, hoses, and “Never, do this - before you do that’s”.
“Can we still return this?”
The mechanic chuckles as if he has heard this many times
before. “Ah, you’ll get used to it. This
stuff is easy.”
I swallow my plea to reconsider.
And before you know it, the truck is attached and we are
heading out of the lot. Which naturally
has VERY wide driveways to accommodate idiots (like me) who have been driving 6
foot vehicles at high speeds for thirty years and suddenly believe they can
manage the equivalent of a semi-truck.
My confidence does not increase when I look in my extended
rear view mirrors and see two mechanic’s leaning into to one another and
watching me. I can only presume that
they have placed a wager on how long it will be before they see me in the
collision repair center.
I will NEVER forget my first left hand turn. Neither will
the lady in the Honda I almost ran over.
But alas, we got our “rig” to its assigned spot in the
storage lot and rush home to choke down a muscle relaxant with a shot of
tequila.
2 things I would suggest (Greg might have more)...
ReplyDeleteextended mirrors (you probably already have them)
and a lube disk (http://www.amazon.com/Husky-34914-Fifth-Wheel-Lube/dp/B001EN0552)
Have fun!!
Thanks- we'll take all the advice we can get!
ReplyDelete