Really it did.
We packed up and got ready to go. I was standing in the grass near the truck, and as Jim walked by, he accidentally kicked up a rock towards me.
I bent down and picked it up and was pleasantly surprised to see it was a heart rock!
I said, "Look, Hon, you kicked a heart rock to me!"
Jim replied, "See, I LOVE YOU. And You say I don't give you any signs!" Then he leaned over with his sweaty face and kissed me.
What'd I tell ya? Good start.
We hopped on the Interstate, and I started chatting with Jim, sharing with him all your concerns over his back. (HE DOESN'T READ MY BLOG.)
I found an exit on the left side of the road and the exit sign was indeed on the left of the sign like I said in my post here.
We drove thirty, 30, 30 miles when we heard it.
Yes, folks. Blow #3, in 6 days on the road.
Here's the deal. Two years ago we replaced all six tires at a dealer, Les Swab, on the West coast. You may recall last Spring when we left AZ we had two blowouts - one right in Washington where we bought the original tires. The dealer gave us a new tire; we just had to pay the difference in price because they no longer carried the original tire. Fine. Then about 2 weeks later, another tire blows. Same deal. We find another Les Swab dealer and they swap out the tires. Now with these tires blowing, it makes 5/6 original tires blown. Something tells me that these tires aren't right, you agree? I want Jim to replace that last tire before it blows. We already have enough damage to the trailer. That side of the trailer WAS JUST FIXED A COUPLE OF MONTHS AGO from the other blow out.
The flapping tire tread not only damaged the trailer, but also cut the electrical line for the one slide-out.
But my story doesn't end here. Oh no.
Jim and I climbed back into the truck; Jim sweating and hurting, me frustrated and near tears.
Jim lets out a sigh and turns the key to start the truck.
Well, not nothing, just a click, click, click, click.
Oh, no. This is NOT happening!
We have an extra battery right on the truck. Jim hooked that up but to no avail. It must be the starter or something else.
Luckily we have roadside assistance. Jim called them and we waited 1 1/2 hours for the honking big tow truck.
In the meantime, I saw a barn down the way and took a picture of it. I used the "posterize" effect. I liked how it turned out.
Also, how about some barbed wire against blue sky?
So, the big tow truck showed up. He towed us to a local campground. Could you imagine the sight we made - 40 ft trailer towed by 18 ft truck towed by gigantic tow truck?
The driver was very nice. He pulled us through the site, let us unhook the trailer, then he towed the truck aside. He's coming back in the morning to tow the truck to a local dealer.
Do you know what's amazing through this all? Jim's attitude. He's calm, doesn't get upset. Just takes things in stride.
Me? I cry, ask, "WHY US?" etc.
I can't help it. I'm Italian/Irish. I'm emotional.
I told Jim, "Hey. Maybe there's a reason for this. Maybe there's a casino near the campground. Maybe I'm supposed to go there and gamble and WIN BIG!"
Jim said, "Yeah, right!" And snorted!
(I stand corrected about the law regarding changing lanes if there is a disabled vehicle pulled over to the side. That only applies to emergency, police and service vehicles - not personal ones. It is just a common courtesy to move to the outer lane.)