Daily Archives: March 27, 2012
Still Living the Motel Life . . .
Since we were a few minutes too late for breakfast at the hotel, (I thought they said 9:30. It was 9.) we decided to head across town to IHOP.
Big mistake. Worse IHOP meal we’ve ever had. Pretty much everything was either uncooked, and/or cold. Next time it’s either Denny’s or get up earlier.
Leaving IHOP, we stopped off at Rush Truck Center to pick a couple of things up and plug in the coach to shop power. Clayton, the manager said they were just starting to look at the coach and he’d let me know as soon as they knew something.
So Jan and I headed back to the room for an afternoon of doing nothing. We read and napped, and then read and napped some more. Jan worked on her recipe file and I read and napped.
Did I mention I napped?
Finally about 4:30 we headed out for dinner after a quick stop at the rig to check in. Clayton said he was getting ready to call me with what they found so far.
They removed the oil pan and found about two quarts of coolant in the oil.
They then over-pressurized the cooling system and except for a couple of very small external leaks around hose connections, no coolant showed up anywhere.
The Tech even joked he wondered if someone just poured coolant in the oil. He also said they found no sign of oil in the coolant. So whatever’s leaking is only going in one direction.
So tomorrow they’re going to put the pan back on, fill it with oil, get it running, and see what happens.
The good news is, that so far, there’s no bad news.
For supper Jan and I decided to check out Dickey’s Barbecue Pit, a national chain that’s been around since 1941. But somehow we’ve never eaten one.
And we should have. It was really very good. Good sauce, good meat, good sides. And free ice cream for dessert.
Leaving Dickey’s, I dropped Jan off to get her hair done while I read my Kindle in the car. Then it was back to the motel for the night.
Maybe tomorrow we’ll get some more news.
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Thought for the Day:
There are three kinds of people. Those who make things happen, those who watch things happen, and those who wonder what the hell did happen,
fsgsfdg
