Let’s Catch Up

Dear Reader:

Our Dog House is gone.  Sold to some people from Europe.  And it did not go well.

To recap, Rayman asked the RV dealership to send the check to us in Portland.  THAT did not happen.  They claim they sent it to Morro Bay.  It was sold on 8/23.  We had not received on 9/4 so we started raising hell.  We asked for electronic funds transfer.  No.  They did not do that.  So they agreed to overnite a new check.  It did not come.  We asked for the tracking number.  It finally arrived on 9/10.  It is an understatement to say that I was besides myself.  Oh, and at the start of Autumn, the first check has still not arrived.  They cancelled it when they wrote the second check.


MOVING ON (without the Dog House, sniff sniff)

We decided to take a road trip.  After all, we’ve been in Portland all summer without one (except our two trips to Bend which I expounded on in earlier blogs).  The plan was hatched.  A trip to Montana.  We actually aren’t that far away.  SO away we went this a.m. in our little Ford CMax hybrid.  To make the trip more interesting, we wanted to leave the freeway.  This necessitated taking highway 14 on the WA side of the Columbia River to Walla Walla, WA.  Okay.  Well.

A disclaimer.  I was not driving.  We had stopped at a scenic rest stop to rest and change drivers. 


Our view from rest stop.

Rayman took the helm and after pulling out on the road, a funny couple of thumps ensued and then it got really loud in the cabin of the car.  Rayman thought it was road noise and wind.  I thought otherwise.  So, we stopped.  I was right.  The under carriage dumaflahchie had torn away from the bumper.  We tried to put it in place and drive the car again.  No go.  So, we called AAA road service.  They said it would be 45 minutes.  



Our view from the place we stopped to call AAA.

Where were we?  On Highway 14 about 20 miles east of The Dalles but on the WA side.  There was nothing there.  Not even a tree.  While we waited I called the Ford dealership in The Dalles.  Talked with Fred.  He suggested AAA just remove the part and we could drive on.  Because we planned to take back mountain roads, that did not sound like a workable solution.  I found out from Fred that there was an Enterprise rent-a-car in The Dalles.  I called them.  First I got the national number.  They reported that the local Dalles location had all kinds of cars.  Then I called the local location.  They had one Chevy full sized van.  Period.  By this time it was about 3:30.  They closed at 5 p.m.  Also…they were closed on Sat. And Sun.  I looked at owner’s manual.  It said Ford offered towing service.  I called Fred back.  No, Ford didn’t offer that at their location.  Did they have loaner cars?  No.  OMG.  And then the phone rang.  It was the tow truck driver.  He was the only tow truck driver at work today.  It would be another hour before he arrived.  

Panic set in.  We decided if we could get to the Ford dealership, perhaps they could take the under carriage off and we could just go back to Portland.

I called my cousin.  She accused us of loosening the screws on the under carriage so we would have a bloggable story to tell.  I mean, how could this have happened?  Why always to us?  We howled with laughter.

Then the tow truck driver showed, up (earlier than expected because he had no earthly idea where we were, really).  He could not fix it.  I told the tow truck driver that this constituted the second tow truck ride for us in less than a year.  Really.  With the same car.  So, he towed us to the Ford dealership and I got to meet Fred in person.  He looked like a Fred.  I recognized him immediately. No tatts on this guy.  The tow driver was a hoot. 

Rayman rode in the backseat.  I road shotgun.  Beau was in the car on the bed of the truck.  Poor  Beau.  Traumatized I’m sure.

Back to the story.

The Ford guys “secured” the under carriage.  Fred said we should be okay.  How much did we owe?  Fred said, “nothing”.  We apparently had bonded with all the phone calls etc.



On the Road Again.

So.  While keeping our wallets in our pockets, we headed out east to Walla Walla.  And the cream on the pie was that we witnessed a fabulous sunset albeit in the rear view mirror as we cruised along the Columbia.  

We arrived in Walla Walla.  We checked in.  It was about 7:45.  Luckily there was a restaurant across the parking lot.  We walked over and as we approached the place, three guys lugging a huge pig on a spit walked by.  I asked where they were taking the pig.  To the roaster.  A portable barbecue. Not a view you see every day.

We had dinner and as we were leaving, we stopped by the roaster.  Three guys were outfitting the pig in chicken wire.  I asked if that was to prevent the meat from falling off the bone.  Bingo.    A big party was scheduled for tomorrow.  Too bad we’ll miss it.  It’s on to Missoula, Montana on backroads with lots of curves.  What could go wrong?

I’m officially exhausted.  Will polish this up and send it tomorrow.  



Fading light of the day…just like me.

Leave Comment