Tuesday dawns just pleasantly cool and I look forward to another day in shorts and tee shirt. After some computer work, breakfast, and the morning “chores” of dumpin’ ’n’ pumpin’, I’m back on I-10 and on my way to see Cousin Steve in Mesa, Arizona. He is Patt’s brother, and it’s been a long time.
As I drone along, I realize I’m going to be “early” to Steve’s house, so I mount an effort to get a couple of maintenance items off my list. I stop at a rest area to consult the computer to find there are Itasca dealers in both Mesa (a “suburb” of Phoenix) and Tucson, which I will pass through on my way. I get back on the road and call the Mesa dealer. I describe the armrest problem and he indicates that if the pin has gone bye-bye, he would have to order the part (the whole armrest, actually) and his appointment book is filled until late April. I interrogate him for all the info I can get on how this armrest works and how I might get it fixed. So I learn a little more about the problem and then I call Tucson. These people are more accommodating, inviting me to stop by and they will see what they can do. I like their attitude, and I don’t reveal all the details of my problem. I fear the worst, but I have some extra time and resolve to stop and see if anything can be done. I wish I had the time and space to fully describe this dealership, but suffice it to say there are a gazillion RVs there for sale and dozens lined up for repair in the big service bays. My problem seems insignificant and it turns out the service rep can’t offer me much, but he takes me over to the parts department and we all discuss the missing pin, sympathetically. However, they refer me to a parts supply house around the corner and a mile up a rough road that is under construction. This place has every nut, bolt, pin, spring, and other small fastener known to man. I take my armrest in with me and the sales rep takes me in the back. First he produces a solid pin that is exactly the right length and diameter, but it would just slip right back out. It would probably work with Loctite, but he then produces a tough roll pin that is just a little oversize and I drive it in with a few taps of a hammer. It won’t come back out and I think it is tough enough to take the pressure. Voila! For a couple of bucks, I have my armrest back in the seat.
In the excitement, I forgot about my windshield washer problem, so I went back to the RV place. I am sure the old tubing has just shrunk with age and exposure, so I just need to put in new tubing. The dealer only has enough of the tubing to do one wiper. For $2.45, I buy their remaining three-foot piece. Then I drive across the street to another equally huge RV dealer and buy another three feet there…it costs $7.90!
Leaving Tucson, the wind is really starting to pick up and with it the dust. Thus the justification for the series of signs I frequently see since entering Arizona: “Caution Dust Storms May Exist,” “Zero Visibility Possible,” and “Do Not Stop In Traffic Lanes.” These last couple of hours to Phoenix/Mesa are a steering challenge and I can smell the dirt.
The GPS guides me faithfully right to Steve’s house which is in a very nice residential area where the clearances are a little tight for DD, but thankfully his street is not a dead end. With Essie in tow I nearly block the entire front of his lot, which is on a curve and fans out toward the back. The family comes out to greet me, Steve, his wife, Darla, her daughter Amber, 22, and their son, Stevie, 12. They take a quick look inside DD and we discuss where to put her. Steve and I consider the gravel “driveway” (not the main driveway to the garage) alongside the house that goes through double gates into the back yard near the swimming pool. I could probably get her in there, but the open gates would pose a safety hazard for the many children in the neighborhood. I suggest a nearby store parking lot, but Darla and Amber insist a better place would be at K-Mart, which is closer and where they have seen RVs park in the very large lot. There is a lot less congestion there, and Darla calls on my behalf to confirm that it is all right with them for me to park overnight.
I take Steve with me for the ride in DD and we go get her situated out in a far corner of the K-Mart lot near a couple of 18-wheelers that are also parked there. We climb in Essie and motor back to the house. Darla and Amber are off on some errands and to take Stevie to Karate class. This gives Steve and me a chance to catch up on the years gone past, and it is great to share some stories with mutual understanding. He’s a great guy and we have certainly come a long way since we used to play in San Diego as children.
By 7:30 or so we all reassemble and head out to a cool place called Giant Hamburger, where they make them just like at home—and the fries are outstanding! Then we all go over to my “house” so they can see DD with her slides out and all. What a nice family Steve has. Amber is really pretty and full of sly humor. Stevie is well-mannered and wears a truly happy smile; he is full of curiosity and asks me lots of questions about DD. I show them all the neat stuff and turn on the TV. We sit around in the living room and I make my biggest goof of the trip—I forget to get out my camera. It would have been so perfect, all of us there in one place, and I mentally kick myself as I lie in bed later, realizing there is no way to recover from this mistake, as I won’t be seeing them again in the morning. My apologies to all.
As I drone along, I realize I’m going to be “early” to Steve’s house, so I mount an effort to get a couple of maintenance items off my list. I stop at a rest area to consult the computer to find there are Itasca dealers in both Mesa (a “suburb” of Phoenix) and Tucson, which I will pass through on my way. I get back on the road and call the Mesa dealer. I describe the armrest problem and he indicates that if the pin has gone bye-bye, he would have to order the part (the whole armrest, actually) and his appointment book is filled until late April. I interrogate him for all the info I can get on how this armrest works and how I might get it fixed. So I learn a little more about the problem and then I call Tucson. These people are more accommodating, inviting me to stop by and they will see what they can do. I like their attitude, and I don’t reveal all the details of my problem. I fear the worst, but I have some extra time and resolve to stop and see if anything can be done. I wish I had the time and space to fully describe this dealership, but suffice it to say there are a gazillion RVs there for sale and dozens lined up for repair in the big service bays. My problem seems insignificant and it turns out the service rep can’t offer me much, but he takes me over to the parts department and we all discuss the missing pin, sympathetically. However, they refer me to a parts supply house around the corner and a mile up a rough road that is under construction. This place has every nut, bolt, pin, spring, and other small fastener known to man. I take my armrest in with me and the sales rep takes me in the back. First he produces a solid pin that is exactly the right length and diameter, but it would just slip right back out. It would probably work with Loctite, but he then produces a tough roll pin that is just a little oversize and I drive it in with a few taps of a hammer. It won’t come back out and I think it is tough enough to take the pressure. Voila! For a couple of bucks, I have my armrest back in the seat.
In the excitement, I forgot about my windshield washer problem, so I went back to the RV place. I am sure the old tubing has just shrunk with age and exposure, so I just need to put in new tubing. The dealer only has enough of the tubing to do one wiper. For $2.45, I buy their remaining three-foot piece. Then I drive across the street to another equally huge RV dealer and buy another three feet there…it costs $7.90!
Leaving Tucson, the wind is really starting to pick up and with it the dust. Thus the justification for the series of signs I frequently see since entering Arizona: “Caution Dust Storms May Exist,” “Zero Visibility Possible,” and “Do Not Stop In Traffic Lanes.” These last couple of hours to Phoenix/Mesa are a steering challenge and I can smell the dirt.
The GPS guides me faithfully right to Steve’s house which is in a very nice residential area where the clearances are a little tight for DD, but thankfully his street is not a dead end. With Essie in tow I nearly block the entire front of his lot, which is on a curve and fans out toward the back. The family comes out to greet me, Steve, his wife, Darla, her daughter Amber, 22, and their son, Stevie, 12. They take a quick look inside DD and we discuss where to put her. Steve and I consider the gravel “driveway” (not the main driveway to the garage) alongside the house that goes through double gates into the back yard near the swimming pool. I could probably get her in there, but the open gates would pose a safety hazard for the many children in the neighborhood. I suggest a nearby store parking lot, but Darla and Amber insist a better place would be at K-Mart, which is closer and where they have seen RVs park in the very large lot. There is a lot less congestion there, and Darla calls on my behalf to confirm that it is all right with them for me to park overnight.
I take Steve with me for the ride in DD and we go get her situated out in a far corner of the K-Mart lot near a couple of 18-wheelers that are also parked there. We climb in Essie and motor back to the house. Darla and Amber are off on some errands and to take Stevie to Karate class. This gives Steve and me a chance to catch up on the years gone past, and it is great to share some stories with mutual understanding. He’s a great guy and we have certainly come a long way since we used to play in San Diego as children.
By 7:30 or so we all reassemble and head out to a cool place called Giant Hamburger, where they make them just like at home—and the fries are outstanding! Then we all go over to my “house” so they can see DD with her slides out and all. What a nice family Steve has. Amber is really pretty and full of sly humor. Stevie is well-mannered and wears a truly happy smile; he is full of curiosity and asks me lots of questions about DD. I show them all the neat stuff and turn on the TV. We sit around in the living room and I make my biggest goof of the trip—I forget to get out my camera. It would have been so perfect, all of us there in one place, and I mentally kick myself as I lie in bed later, realizing there is no way to recover from this mistake, as I won’t be seeing them again in the morning. My apologies to all.
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P.S.: Darla came to my rescue (thank you!) and supplied a great picture, which I am proud to display here. Left to right: Amber, Steve, Stevie, and Darla.
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