June 16, 2007
More Problems, More Help
So far on this trip we have had a mechanical problem every day. It has changed our plans, slowed us down, but it hasn’t stopped us yet. Today the issue was tires. Low tire pressure caused our dear Helen to lean to one side. Her tired haunch made us worry about driving conditions.
This morning we measured pressure in each of the tires and filled them back to where they used to be. The guy at the Goodyear Tire finished up and wished us good luck. After making a five-point turn out of the shop we made our way back on the road.
Standing upright once again, Helen lugged along, determined to get out of Missouri.
We reached the border under a cloudy, late afternoon sky. We needed two pictures; one by the “Welcome to Kansas” sign, and the other in front of the “Welcome to Missouri” Sign. We missed the Missouri sign on our way in. Crossing the highway, and border on foot we quickly posed for a mock “entering Missouri” pose.
It was when we were walking back from taking these two pictures that the next problem presented itself. About to climb in the side door we were blasted with air pouring out of our rear inside tire. The tube inside the rubber had popped. Like a big long sigh through her rear inside tire, she returned to her tired lean. Thankful that we weren’t on the road when it popped, we looked around for ways to fix it.
The two $10.00 Aldi’s car jacks were seeing sunlight for only the second time in five days. Remember the last time was when they fell out on the road. We needed blocks to set the jacks on so that they could reach the Bago. Ian and I walked up a dirt drive to ask our new neighbors if they had anything that could help us. We caught the first guy we saw outside in his front lawn. Sean Smith was his name, and he also was not wearing a shirt. There were some large wooden beams in his lawn that he helped us haul down the hill to where the other guys waited. Needing some leverage to turn the tire iron, we raided an abandoned truck bed for iron tubes to place over the handles.
Removing the spare wheel off the back gate, we noticed how little air was in our one and only reserve. We needed to get it to an air compresser and fill it up. That’s when our next friend showed up in his white pick-up, also not wearing a shirt. “Need a little help?” His name was Ron Kreg, a Kansas resident heading into town, kind enough to lend a hand. Ian and Luke jumped in the truck with our spare to fill it with air. The remainder of us stood around, shirts still off, listening to Sean’s life story. It wasn’t long and he headed back up to his house, telling us we could keep the giant wooden beams from his front lawn if we needed them. We declined the offer, knowing there wasn’t any room for any unessential items inside the Winnebago.
Ian, Luke, and Ron returned with a tire full of air. We threw it on where the old tire failed us. Sean came back down the hill, this time with his brother Dustin. They both had more stories to share with us, as Dan and Micah strained under the weight of the back dual tires. When it was done, it began to rain. There stood nine men, not a single shirt, getting soaked in the rain, nodding in approval of a job well done. We exchanged some information and got out the rain. We gave them the website URL and told our new friends to check up on us when they had the chance. If you guys are reading this, Thanks, we needed you that day, we’ll keep you updated.
It was on the road that night that we got a phone call giving us the bad news from back home. When we found out about Kyle’s car accident, the inside of the Winnebago got real quiet and serious. We knew him through football, mutual friends, school, and family. A few of us had talked to him just before we left on the trip. The weather fits the mood here. It’s been raining off and on all day. I hope that back home, our friends are doing okay. We’re praying for everyone involved and effected.
Another Wal-Mart tonight. Tires aren’t looking so good from Tulsa, Oklahoma. Any more problems will have to wait for tomorrow.
Winnebago Guys,
Tulsa, Oklahoma
1,039 miles from home
Wednesday, June 20, 2007
Sunday, June 17, 2007
June 15, 2007
June 15, 2007
One problem after another…
It was a full day of mixed emotions, on our first Friday of the trip. Breakdowns are unavoidable, and frequent stops make progress slow. The small electrical fire last night gave us a few new problems that were hard to diagnose. It triggered a chain reaction of battery, alternator, regulator, and gauge issues. All very exciting to have on busy highways. When we pull over the driver signals to the pit crew to get ready to run out and fix stuff, something different every time. We’re getting pretty fast at it. I am running my laptop right now through a power inverter connected to the Winnebago in an attempt to use as much electricity as we can to prevent a surge. A series of temporary fixes keep us going, as I type this on Interstate 44 heading west towards Springfield, Missouri. We hope to get out of this state as soon as possible, hoping that by crossing the border we stop having mechanical problems.
Even as I write the cabin is flickering with lights, shorting out, and regaining power. To prevent a fire we draw as much energy away from the battery by turning on all of the lights, music and computers. The lights only work through a surge, causing a quick flicker every few minutes, but to prevent windshield glare we covered the lights with paper plates and duck tape; a real pro job of it too. The Winnebago is like a weed, you can hurt it but it just won’t die.
Earlier today we stopped by a river to take another bath. Inside the Winnebago during the day, it gets really hot. We really needed a clean up, bad. Past a dozen cow farms and down a dirt road, was the bridge was parked by. Bathing suits, towels, and soap in hand, all of us made our way to the bank. The water was a comfortable temperature and we decided to stick around for a while. Catching crayfish became not only a game, but a hunt for dinner. Four hours and thirty crayfish later, we ate on the side of the bridge. All of the crayfish were boiled, only a few of them eaten. The owner of the property drove up in her truck and offered us a place to park and stay for the night. We talked it over and decided that we should probably catch up for lost time yesterday. Complete strangers have been really nice to us so far and very interested in our road trip. We’ve made a few new friends so far, and hope to make some more.
The neighbor’s dog came down to investigate and we played with him for a while. We gave him the name Matt, after Jordan Miedema’s old dog, who he reminded us of. We took off, pulled back onto the road and almost tipped over. The top-heavy Winnebago doesn’t handle big curbs all too well, but we made it. There is a thin layer of dirt over the body from traveling on the dirt roads back here. Helen is a versatile vehicle, dominating pavement and gravel wherever she goes.
Tensions between the guys are dying down from where they were earlier today. Frustration was at its peak when we pulled into a BP gas station to try and fix our battery problem. There were a few different opinions on how Helen should be fixed, none of them succeeding on the first try. Realizing we were expecting too much out of out 35 year friend, we all chilled out a little, and lightened up. Now, problems are just humorous as they are always happening. We know that we aren’t invincible anymore, but also that we can’t get too stressed out about it. Right this minute, we’re between problems and doing great. “Jump on It” is blaring and everyone is feeling much better. We’re looking for a someplace to park for the night, hopefully outside the state of Missouri, hopefully.
One problem after another…
It was a full day of mixed emotions, on our first Friday of the trip. Breakdowns are unavoidable, and frequent stops make progress slow. The small electrical fire last night gave us a few new problems that were hard to diagnose. It triggered a chain reaction of battery, alternator, regulator, and gauge issues. All very exciting to have on busy highways. When we pull over the driver signals to the pit crew to get ready to run out and fix stuff, something different every time. We’re getting pretty fast at it. I am running my laptop right now through a power inverter connected to the Winnebago in an attempt to use as much electricity as we can to prevent a surge. A series of temporary fixes keep us going, as I type this on Interstate 44 heading west towards Springfield, Missouri. We hope to get out of this state as soon as possible, hoping that by crossing the border we stop having mechanical problems.
Even as I write the cabin is flickering with lights, shorting out, and regaining power. To prevent a fire we draw as much energy away from the battery by turning on all of the lights, music and computers. The lights only work through a surge, causing a quick flicker every few minutes, but to prevent windshield glare we covered the lights with paper plates and duck tape; a real pro job of it too. The Winnebago is like a weed, you can hurt it but it just won’t die.
Earlier today we stopped by a river to take another bath. Inside the Winnebago during the day, it gets really hot. We really needed a clean up, bad. Past a dozen cow farms and down a dirt road, was the bridge was parked by. Bathing suits, towels, and soap in hand, all of us made our way to the bank. The water was a comfortable temperature and we decided to stick around for a while. Catching crayfish became not only a game, but a hunt for dinner. Four hours and thirty crayfish later, we ate on the side of the bridge. All of the crayfish were boiled, only a few of them eaten. The owner of the property drove up in her truck and offered us a place to park and stay for the night. We talked it over and decided that we should probably catch up for lost time yesterday. Complete strangers have been really nice to us so far and very interested in our road trip. We’ve made a few new friends so far, and hope to make some more.
The neighbor’s dog came down to investigate and we played with him for a while. We gave him the name Matt, after Jordan Miedema’s old dog, who he reminded us of. We took off, pulled back onto the road and almost tipped over. The top-heavy Winnebago doesn’t handle big curbs all too well, but we made it. There is a thin layer of dirt over the body from traveling on the dirt roads back here. Helen is a versatile vehicle, dominating pavement and gravel wherever she goes.
Tensions between the guys are dying down from where they were earlier today. Frustration was at its peak when we pulled into a BP gas station to try and fix our battery problem. There were a few different opinions on how Helen should be fixed, none of them succeeding on the first try. Realizing we were expecting too much out of out 35 year friend, we all chilled out a little, and lightened up. Now, problems are just humorous as they are always happening. We know that we aren’t invincible anymore, but also that we can’t get too stressed out about it. Right this minute, we’re between problems and doing great. “Jump on It” is blaring and everyone is feeling much better. We’re looking for a someplace to park for the night, hopefully outside the state of Missouri, hopefully.
Thursday, June 14, 2007
June 14
June 14, 2007
Sleeping in, going nowhere
“We are on a five, freakin’ lane highway!”
Last night was a late night for everyone. Luke and Ian braved midnight highway through St. Louis and into Eureka, Missouri; still the only two of us to drive yet. We pushed hard to avoid the big city traffic during the day. There were a few other, unhappy, drivers on the road with us that night, but we made it through in one piece. The twisted overpasses and crowded streets below seemed much younger and more complicated than Helen, who was just passing through. The Gateway Arch was a nice site at night, with the spotlights on it. No good pictures, sorry.
Windows open, we went to bed around 3:00am Holland time, 2:00am here. Sleeping in was our reward, and we did until 10:30 before cleaning, and washing up for a new day. The terrain of central Missouri is testing the limits of old Helen. The winding roads through the forested hills of this particular section of historic route 66 are slowing us down. We gauge the performance of the Winnebago on how many horns we get honked at us and angry drivers giving us the “number 1” sign.
The power converter from yesterday has drained our battery and ruined our alternator. We are at a stand still right now, about to head to the mechanic down the road. It’s going to take a new alternator, at the expense of a warm fridge, dead phones, and a bundle of cash. Not much else we can do but eat more Air Heads and try to stay cool. Rockey, the store manager from yesterday was probably right about the power converter. We’re starting to think that the fridge will have to be a pantry instead. Keep praying for us, we need to win the lotto (we’ve been playing in every state), we need the Bago to start, and we need to get moving or we could be out here for a long time…
It is 6:15pm here in Pacific, Missouri. We brought Helen to a mechanic’s shop called “The Shop” that was conveniently less than a quarter mile from where we decided we finally needed help. The people at “The Shop” were really nice. Dona the lady at the front desk took care of us in the waiting room. She offered us a stove for our Velveeta shells and cheese, chips and salsa leftover from the break room, a fridge to keep our cokes cold, and electricity to plug into to air condition the Winnebago. We were hesitant to ask for anything, but quick to take anything offered our way.
Being 35 years old makes ordering parts difficult. Two parts stores nearby didn’t have the right alternator for us, a creative makeshift combination of the old and new alternator proved to fit. The real test is ahead of us. We don’t know if it will charge our battery further down the road, but for now, it starts and it moves. So far today we’ve traveled roughly ten miles, but we may push through the night again. There is less traffic and we can go a little slower without making anyone mad.
Just one more paragraph to say how nice the people in Missouri are. Everyone is offering us help and genuine concern. Dona the desk lady and Dave the mechanic along with all the other guys here stayed late at the shop to help us get back on our way. They’re excited for us and we’re excited too. Getting back on the road will be a relief after a day full of stress and doubts.
Lessons learned, we are getting to know our vehicle a little better everyday. We know just how hard to push her and when we need to take breaks. When to add oil and when to change the fuel filters. We’ve made it through day three without buying a bus ticket home, I think we may get farther than you think…
Winnebago Guys, from the desk of Aaron Tubergen
Pacific, Missouri
552 miles from home
Sleeping in, going nowhere
“We are on a five, freakin’ lane highway!”
Last night was a late night for everyone. Luke and Ian braved midnight highway through St. Louis and into Eureka, Missouri; still the only two of us to drive yet. We pushed hard to avoid the big city traffic during the day. There were a few other, unhappy, drivers on the road with us that night, but we made it through in one piece. The twisted overpasses and crowded streets below seemed much younger and more complicated than Helen, who was just passing through. The Gateway Arch was a nice site at night, with the spotlights on it. No good pictures, sorry.
Windows open, we went to bed around 3:00am Holland time, 2:00am here. Sleeping in was our reward, and we did until 10:30 before cleaning, and washing up for a new day. The terrain of central Missouri is testing the limits of old Helen. The winding roads through the forested hills of this particular section of historic route 66 are slowing us down. We gauge the performance of the Winnebago on how many horns we get honked at us and angry drivers giving us the “number 1” sign.
The power converter from yesterday has drained our battery and ruined our alternator. We are at a stand still right now, about to head to the mechanic down the road. It’s going to take a new alternator, at the expense of a warm fridge, dead phones, and a bundle of cash. Not much else we can do but eat more Air Heads and try to stay cool. Rockey, the store manager from yesterday was probably right about the power converter. We’re starting to think that the fridge will have to be a pantry instead. Keep praying for us, we need to win the lotto (we’ve been playing in every state), we need the Bago to start, and we need to get moving or we could be out here for a long time…
It is 6:15pm here in Pacific, Missouri. We brought Helen to a mechanic’s shop called “The Shop” that was conveniently less than a quarter mile from where we decided we finally needed help. The people at “The Shop” were really nice. Dona the lady at the front desk took care of us in the waiting room. She offered us a stove for our Velveeta shells and cheese, chips and salsa leftover from the break room, a fridge to keep our cokes cold, and electricity to plug into to air condition the Winnebago. We were hesitant to ask for anything, but quick to take anything offered our way.
Being 35 years old makes ordering parts difficult. Two parts stores nearby didn’t have the right alternator for us, a creative makeshift combination of the old and new alternator proved to fit. The real test is ahead of us. We don’t know if it will charge our battery further down the road, but for now, it starts and it moves. So far today we’ve traveled roughly ten miles, but we may push through the night again. There is less traffic and we can go a little slower without making anyone mad.
Just one more paragraph to say how nice the people in Missouri are. Everyone is offering us help and genuine concern. Dona the desk lady and Dave the mechanic along with all the other guys here stayed late at the shop to help us get back on our way. They’re excited for us and we’re excited too. Getting back on the road will be a relief after a day full of stress and doubts.
Lessons learned, we are getting to know our vehicle a little better everyday. We know just how hard to push her and when we need to take breaks. When to add oil and when to change the fuel filters. We’ve made it through day three without buying a bus ticket home, I think we may get farther than you think…
Winnebago Guys, from the desk of Aaron Tubergen
Pacific, Missouri
552 miles from home
June 13, later that day
June 13 (evening), 2007
The boys were tired from a full day of stop and go driving. The fuel filters were clogging up fast on the fresh, east end of historic route 66. A group of tired male high school graduates is a hungry group of boys. The quality of food and beverage has already become worse than the night before. The fridge hasn’t been plugged in since be left and the cooler cracked, spilling water, ice and deli meat onto the bathroom floor. Cookies, airheads, and scotch-a-roos have become dinner entrées already in our second day.
A stop at the “Loves” truck stop solved all of our problems. The 12v. power converter we had been using was enough to charge a cell phone here and there, but the stereo, fridge, laptops, and other necessities had been left powerless. There was a bigger, better converter in the store that we thought would power our Winnebago luxuries. Store manager Rockey supplied us with kind, but pessimistic advice, doubting our decision to buy a 400 watt converter. He was right, it didn’t work. But then a darker colored, even more powerful converter for the same price ($10.00 less after mail-in rebate) appeared in the display case. It was more difficult to install but we exchanged the 400 watt failure for the 500 watt powerhouse that would help us prove Rockey dead wrong. After a long break at the truck stop, we enjoyed cold beverages and non-melted candy bars. The laptops and phones stayed charged as the Winnebago (now called Helen) idled coarsely in front of “Loves” truck store. Another battle won in the name of Helen in this war against the road.
A few miles down the road, at the first light we encountered another minor set back, more exciting than troublesome. A side compartment containing a couple of car jacks and a shovel opened up and dropped cargo. Unsure if the boxes on the side of the road were ours or not, we made a quick right and a recovery team was launched out the side. Satisfied with the survival rate of our dropped luggage we regrouped and hopped back into Helen. A few on the run bottle rocket launches out the window, and everything is back to normal, as normal as things get in the Bago. Freshly cold mountain dews in hand for the first time since we left, we lug down the road towards Missouri, prepared for whatever our next state has to offer. Bring it on….
Winnebago Guys, from the desk of Aaron Tubergen
June 13, evening, 2007
North of Springfield, Illinois
395 miles from home
The boys were tired from a full day of stop and go driving. The fuel filters were clogging up fast on the fresh, east end of historic route 66. A group of tired male high school graduates is a hungry group of boys. The quality of food and beverage has already become worse than the night before. The fridge hasn’t been plugged in since be left and the cooler cracked, spilling water, ice and deli meat onto the bathroom floor. Cookies, airheads, and scotch-a-roos have become dinner entrées already in our second day.
A stop at the “Loves” truck stop solved all of our problems. The 12v. power converter we had been using was enough to charge a cell phone here and there, but the stereo, fridge, laptops, and other necessities had been left powerless. There was a bigger, better converter in the store that we thought would power our Winnebago luxuries. Store manager Rockey supplied us with kind, but pessimistic advice, doubting our decision to buy a 400 watt converter. He was right, it didn’t work. But then a darker colored, even more powerful converter for the same price ($10.00 less after mail-in rebate) appeared in the display case. It was more difficult to install but we exchanged the 400 watt failure for the 500 watt powerhouse that would help us prove Rockey dead wrong. After a long break at the truck stop, we enjoyed cold beverages and non-melted candy bars. The laptops and phones stayed charged as the Winnebago (now called Helen) idled coarsely in front of “Loves” truck store. Another battle won in the name of Helen in this war against the road.
A few miles down the road, at the first light we encountered another minor set back, more exciting than troublesome. A side compartment containing a couple of car jacks and a shovel opened up and dropped cargo. Unsure if the boxes on the side of the road were ours or not, we made a quick right and a recovery team was launched out the side. Satisfied with the survival rate of our dropped luggage we regrouped and hopped back into Helen. A few on the run bottle rocket launches out the window, and everything is back to normal, as normal as things get in the Bago. Freshly cold mountain dews in hand for the first time since we left, we lug down the road towards Missouri, prepared for whatever our next state has to offer. Bring it on….
Winnebago Guys, from the desk of Aaron Tubergen
June 13, evening, 2007
North of Springfield, Illinois
395 miles from home
Wednesday, June 13, 2007
June 13
June 13, 2007
The first morning away from home was pretty laid back. Some of us slept in, but the crazier half went running. We all cleaned up a little in the Wal-Mart bathrooms (very nice by the way) and planned out the day.
Showers were top on the list of priorities. There was a lake nearby and a place called “Indiana Beach.” We wanted to take a dip and wash off there, but it turns out that the beach was inside some amusement park that we didn’t want to pay to get into. We traveled further up the river that fed into the lake, to take a bath. It was all private property and illegal to go into. We chose not to break any laws, and hit the road to make up for lost time.
On the road we stopped for a picture by the Illinois state border. The road was all cornfields to either side for miles. We parked just down the road from the “Welcome to Illinois” sign and walked. Six guys without shirts, with video cameras rolling, must have looked pretty suspicious because we got a lot of strange looks. One truck passed us going at least 60mph, made a hard stop, turned around, and offered us all a ride. We told him we were going to California in an RV just around the corner from where we were standing. He was a little jealous as he turned his truck and trailer around.
Just down the road we hit an overpass that crossed a small river. A perfect place to take a bath. We all hopped in suits grabbed some soap and took off to the Ol’ swimmin’ hole. The banks were just muk, but I think we made out a little cleaner than when we went in.
The rest of the day was spent on the road. The Bago, now named Helen, was giving us a little trouble. It died on us a couple times but “time heals all wounds” as the new motto goes. We are well on our way to Cali. The attitude of all the guys is good. We thought if we make it through the first few days, we can make it all the way. We’ve made it through the first two, we’re waiting to see what comes.
From Subway it’s the Winnebago Guys signing out,
Mclean, Illinois
About 320 miles (estimate) from home
The first morning away from home was pretty laid back. Some of us slept in, but the crazier half went running. We all cleaned up a little in the Wal-Mart bathrooms (very nice by the way) and planned out the day.
Showers were top on the list of priorities. There was a lake nearby and a place called “Indiana Beach.” We wanted to take a dip and wash off there, but it turns out that the beach was inside some amusement park that we didn’t want to pay to get into. We traveled further up the river that fed into the lake, to take a bath. It was all private property and illegal to go into. We chose not to break any laws, and hit the road to make up for lost time.
On the road we stopped for a picture by the Illinois state border. The road was all cornfields to either side for miles. We parked just down the road from the “Welcome to Illinois” sign and walked. Six guys without shirts, with video cameras rolling, must have looked pretty suspicious because we got a lot of strange looks. One truck passed us going at least 60mph, made a hard stop, turned around, and offered us all a ride. We told him we were going to California in an RV just around the corner from where we were standing. He was a little jealous as he turned his truck and trailer around.
Just down the road we hit an overpass that crossed a small river. A perfect place to take a bath. We all hopped in suits grabbed some soap and took off to the Ol’ swimmin’ hole. The banks were just muk, but I think we made out a little cleaner than when we went in.
The rest of the day was spent on the road. The Bago, now named Helen, was giving us a little trouble. It died on us a couple times but “time heals all wounds” as the new motto goes. We are well on our way to Cali. The attitude of all the guys is good. We thought if we make it through the first few days, we can make it all the way. We’ve made it through the first two, we’re waiting to see what comes.
From Subway it’s the Winnebago Guys signing out,
Mclean, Illinois
About 320 miles (estimate) from home
June 12, 2007
Departure Day
A day of many emotions. Excitement, nervousness, joy, frustration, and more nervousness (in about that same order.) The trip started off great. Leaving Providence we stopped in Saugatuck to pick up a few last parts to add to the reserves. Moral was high among the Winnebago men as we hit the road, free from responsibility or commitment of any kind. Soon all of the shirts were strewn on the couches; a no shirt policy inside the Bago was quickly instituted. Windows open, music cranked (when the stereo worked) we worked our way south down I-96.
Our first stop, Niles. We were looking for a gas station when we came across our first unplanned adventure. A park with a playground, a river, and a skate park. The football, Frisbee, and parachute ninja quickly found there ways out of storage and were being tossed around in the mid-afternoon sun. A few pictures were taken, water bottles refilled, and we were on our way.
“I’ve always wondered what it’s like to be the first car in a traffic jam” Slower than most other vehicles on the road, the Winnebago upset a few other travelers sharing the road with us.
Thirty feet past the Michigan border, fireworks. The shirts went back on, and we all went firework shopping. Outside the store we took a picture with our bunker busters, black cats, moon riders, and Saturn rocket batteries in front of the Indiana border sign (shirts back off)
Leaving South Bend, we noticed the oil pressure was dipping. We stopped to add some oil and headed back on our way. It wasn’t until our next gas stop that we noticed we were leaking more fluid. We pulled into a truck stop, added more fluid, and let it cool down a little. We rode bikes around the parking lot, and pulled our fold up chairs down from the roof. 45-minutes later, we’re back on the road to test how fast we’re leaking. Our goal for the night was to reach Monticello, Indiana. New motto, “Time heals all wounds” so far it’s proven true.
We made it to Monticello at around 9:30 and started looking for a place to crash for the night. The dripping fluids from under the engine weren’t much of a concern anymore as was just stopped caring for the night. The nice lady at the police station gave us a list of places we could bring our RV but they all cost money, something we had spent a lot of on our first day. Stopping at a McDonalds to type this up, Micah discovered a Wal-Mart receipt under our table. We asked for directions to the nearest Wal-Mart, and found it just down the road.
The Wal-Mart parking lot became our home for the night. We set up the grill and chairs, ate brats and hot dogs until mid-night. A few phone calls from home, and a trip to the public bathrooms to wash up and we went to bed.
About eight hours and 196 miles from home we realized that our trip had finally become a reality. No parents or authority figures there to tell us what to do, no school work that had to be done, no overtime to be had, we finally made it out.
Winnebago Guys,
Monticello, Indiana
196 miles driven
A day of many emotions. Excitement, nervousness, joy, frustration, and more nervousness (in about that same order.) The trip started off great. Leaving Providence we stopped in Saugatuck to pick up a few last parts to add to the reserves. Moral was high among the Winnebago men as we hit the road, free from responsibility or commitment of any kind. Soon all of the shirts were strewn on the couches; a no shirt policy inside the Bago was quickly instituted. Windows open, music cranked (when the stereo worked) we worked our way south down I-96.
Our first stop, Niles. We were looking for a gas station when we came across our first unplanned adventure. A park with a playground, a river, and a skate park. The football, Frisbee, and parachute ninja quickly found there ways out of storage and were being tossed around in the mid-afternoon sun. A few pictures were taken, water bottles refilled, and we were on our way.
“I’ve always wondered what it’s like to be the first car in a traffic jam” Slower than most other vehicles on the road, the Winnebago upset a few other travelers sharing the road with us.
Thirty feet past the Michigan border, fireworks. The shirts went back on, and we all went firework shopping. Outside the store we took a picture with our bunker busters, black cats, moon riders, and Saturn rocket batteries in front of the Indiana border sign (shirts back off)
Leaving South Bend, we noticed the oil pressure was dipping. We stopped to add some oil and headed back on our way. It wasn’t until our next gas stop that we noticed we were leaking more fluid. We pulled into a truck stop, added more fluid, and let it cool down a little. We rode bikes around the parking lot, and pulled our fold up chairs down from the roof. 45-minutes later, we’re back on the road to test how fast we’re leaking. Our goal for the night was to reach Monticello, Indiana. New motto, “Time heals all wounds” so far it’s proven true.
We made it to Monticello at around 9:30 and started looking for a place to crash for the night. The dripping fluids from under the engine weren’t much of a concern anymore as was just stopped caring for the night. The nice lady at the police station gave us a list of places we could bring our RV but they all cost money, something we had spent a lot of on our first day. Stopping at a McDonalds to type this up, Micah discovered a Wal-Mart receipt under our table. We asked for directions to the nearest Wal-Mart, and found it just down the road.
The Wal-Mart parking lot became our home for the night. We set up the grill and chairs, ate brats and hot dogs until mid-night. A few phone calls from home, and a trip to the public bathrooms to wash up and we went to bed.
About eight hours and 196 miles from home we realized that our trip had finally become a reality. No parents or authority figures there to tell us what to do, no school work that had to be done, no overtime to be had, we finally made it out.
Winnebago Guys,
Monticello, Indiana
196 miles driven
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