Our RV Adventures

Unusual for us on a Sunday morning, we were up by 7am and out the door about 8 heading over to the IHOP on Marina Bay Dr. to meet up with our friend’s Tom and Barbara Linklater for breakfast.

It takes a lot to get me out of bed that early on a Sunday, but breakfast at IHOP, and getting together with Barb and Tom will do it.

While I went with my usual Two Egg Breakfast, Over Easy, with Bacon, Grits, and an English Muffin, Jan did the build-your-own-omelet thing, putting together one with Mushrooms, Cheese, Onions, and Avocado,

and a order of her favorite (glass) burnt Bacon.

Barb’s thinking about getting a website to sell her large inventory of vintage clothing, jewelry, hats, and other collectibles, so we spent a lot of time talking over web stuff.

One thing neat was we were waited on by our long-time favorite waiter, Dean. We’ve known Dean since before we started RV’ing. My mother was in an Independent Living Facility nearby, so we’d pick her up and come hear for breakfast quite often.

And then after we started RV’ing and were staying down TX146 at the Galveston Bay RV Resort we came fairly often too.

Coming home we made a Krogers’ stop for a few things before getting back to the rig about 11am, ironically the time I’m normally just getting up.

It never even made it to 60° today, so we both had to dig some winter shirts back out of the closet.

But with Texas weather you never know.

Thought for the Day: 

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When we last left our hero, that would be me. I was in a cab on the way to the Lafayette, LA airport to rent a car. After my Ford Ranger did a RUD, a Rapid Unscheduled Disassembly for you space fans, on the Atchafalaya River Bridge in Louisiana, I had decided to continue my trip to Birmingham to look in on my mother.

While I was waiting for the cab at the wrecker yard, the 2nd wrecker showed up with all my discarded parts. As the two guys piled them into what was left of the truck bed, I realized that there was more parts in the bed than left on the truck.

While I was waiting I managed to find a bottle of aspirin in what was left of the truck’s glove compartment and took a couple. And by the time the cab arrived my headache was gone.

Walking into the airport I found a pay phone and called Jan who was at work. I told her what happened and that I was fine. I said I was going to rent a car and continue on to Birmingham. I also said I wanted her to meet me at the Lafayette airport Sunday afternoon so I could get home. I then called my mother and told her I was going to be a few hours late, but didn’t tell her why since I didn’t want her to worry.

I decided to visit the restroom before heading over to the rental counter and as I was washing my hands I looked into the mirror. And I suddenly knew why people in the airport had been looking at me funny. Well, funnier than usual, I guess.

From the half golf ball-sized lump on my head about an inch behind and two inches above my left ear, blood had flowed down the side of my head and was caked from my ear down onto my collar and had soaked my shirt with a  large red stain.

No wonder people had been looking at me funny. Well, funnier than usual, I guess. But you would have thought that someone, one of the tow truck drivers, or the cab driver, would have said something to me. Thanks a lot, guys.

Using paper towels soaked in warm water, I cleaned off my head and neck as well as I could, and pulled a windbreaker out of my overnight bag that I had grabbed from the remains of the truck to cover my bloody shirt.

The remainder of the trip to Birmingham was uneventful and I managed to conceal my shirt from my mother when I got there. And likewise, my trip back to Lafayette went just as smoothly.

Meeting Jan at the airport we drove back over to the tow yard to retrieve any remaining personal items from the truck, since I was sure that all the king’s soldiers and all the king’s men were not going to be able to put it back together again. Or anybody else, for that matter.

When we got to the yard and saw the truck, Jan said her knees got weak and she felt faint.

Me too.

It was easy to see that the frame was cracked open and the body was bent in a slight U shape. The rear axle was gone, as was the tailgate, bumper, and the right rear part of the truck bed. The windshield and the rear window were both cracked as was the passenger side window. And walking around to the other side the right front wheel was broken and tilting at a 45° angle.

Two weeks later, I got the check from the insurance company and went right out and bought a new Ford Ranger, this time a new 1994 Ford Ranger Crew Cab 4 Door. I figured that since the first one held together long enough to keep me in one piece, another one was in order. And I guess that I had gotten a really good deal on the 1992 since my insurance payout, based on book value, was only $200 less than I paid for it new two years before.

And every time I’ve driven over the Atchafalaya Bridge since then, I always glance over at the spot where I almost became gator food. The scars are still visible on the concrete guard rail.

As Jan has said many times, it’s a miracle I’m still alive.

In that vein, maybe next time I’ll relate the tale of my best friend and I, and our homemade airboat, involving a old VW engine, an Army surplus propeller, and a leaky rowboat with a rotten transom.

Have you ever wondered what it would be like trapped inside a Cuisinart?

Thought for the Day:

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