The mystery of the locked RV wheels

What? We just got this thing!

We started on our latest trip - we've been keeping to one every month since we shelled out for the RV - and man, it was rough going. When we reached the stop sign at the end of our block, I wondered whether or not we had lined up our emergency numbers before we shoved off. (Because they certainly came in handy couple of months ago.) The rig was shuddering as we continued along.

A couple of blocks later we could no longer ignore it and pulled into a warehouse parking lot. We smelled burning as we came to a stop at an empty corner of the lot.

We tried to drive around. We tried to. We found out that the front tires of the trailer were locked. It has four wheels, and the front axle was completely locked. We were literally leaving rubber on the pavement. So we had been dragging our wheels for three whole blocks!

It was a Friday afternoon and we frantically googled and dialed phone numbers before 5 o'clock weekend closing times. We did so for three hours, puzzling over what was wrong and how to get out of this jam. Not only was the trailer screwed, but we had no way of getting it anywhere. That we were ironically so close to home didn't matter, because can you even tow an RV trailer? Thank god it was at least beautiful weather. But time was running out.

Meet the Breakaway Switch

A few of our frantic calls hit pay dirt. AAA came out and could not help us. Time to cancel their extra RV service that we pay for. But we did learn was that it was the breakaway switch on the hitch, where the lanyard had come unplugged. This was courtesy of Winnebago Chicago (over the phone he was gruff but helpful) and Frank from Illinois Tractor and RV Repair who came out to do a field call. Frank said our lanyard wire was too short and so the lanyard probably pulled loose during a tight turn. He pulled out some slack and provided a few other pointers about hooking up the trailer better.

Long shot: Breakaway switch and lanyard with white tag, underneath hitch. 

Close-up: Here you can see the wire lanyard

From below: The lanyard loop is attached to the plug, all fixed now. 

The lanyard runs back from the van, and if it pulls loose it stops the trailer - a safety feature.

Three hours later these newbies were back on the road. This lifestyle's going to be a learning game. Despite the late start we covered the length of Illinois that night and crossed the Mississippi by moonlight, bedding down in the bootheel of Missouri. Old man river won't you keep on rolling.

Roll On

Out on the road, things don't always go as planned...

We took off on a big trip west. It came together quickly. The perfect small travel trailer came on the market, and they don't last long, so we put our money down. It's a toy hauler, meaning the back flips down into a ramp that will be great for the wheelchair, and it's 16 feet long, so it should be OK for us to sleep and eat but still be able to fit in most campgrounds at the national parks which is our goal. The catch is that the toy hauler is all the way on the other side of the country in Arizona, but we've wanted this for a long time, so now the trip is part of our adventure.

The big day comes, and we got a late, late start. We don't travel light: as my health becomes more and more involved, so do the number of suitcases, bags and the like. Stuck with the work as usual, Mab has a hard time planning and packing. What can be packed, and what will still be needed in the morning before we leave? What will we need handy in the car? In the hotel? In the RV? These things frustrate her.

To make things worse, in loading the van, the stacked containers she uses to store the luggage toppled, creating more confusion.

Then when we finally loaded up, the van lift that transfers me from wheelchair to passenger seat had no charge. Sometime during the past week a button had jostled and turned the unit on. So, while we embarked and the lift was charging up, I sat in the back of the van. I'll do this for short trips when it's not worth the hassle of transferring. But being in the back of a cargo van (no windows installed yet) can be a drag, especially during a road trip. The music's garbled, there's no one to talk to and nothing to see. I sit tall, so all I see through the front windows are grass, pavement and sometimes the bottom half of cars and buildings flashing by. So here we are, driving down colorful Route 66, but all I'm getting is Route 33.

But I remembered something Mab has told me about travel, and she's done more than her share. She said that no matter how much you plan, things rarely if ever go exactly according to plan. You've got to be willing to deal with whatever comes up, and roll on to experience your trip. And sure enough, the traveling I've done has gone that way, and so it was today. It's kind of the way you have to be with a disability anyway, willing to roll on.

UPDATE: 48 hours later, we were driving through the desert brush and oil pumps of arid west Texas. We weren't where we were supposed to be: We should have been a couple hundred miles to the north, but we took a wrong turn for Abilene instead of Amarillo, because we were both punchy the night before and they both start with "A." But we rolled on until our newish vehicle with only 15,000 miles on it lost all power on a four-lane interstate. We pulled over on a thin strip of shoulder with loaded oil rigs whipping past on one side, and a steep ditch on the other, so that we were stuck there in 100° heat. Of course it was Sunday afternoon and the roadside services were slow to help.
I have MS, so after two hours in the heat I was seeing Jesus. Jesus was wearing a brown law-enforcement uniform, and turned out to be a sheriff, hallelujah. Big Thanks to him and Nissan Roadside Assistance and to Dale at Westwind Transport of Big Spring, Texas, who towed us to a completely accessible hotel with lovely air-conditioning. Thanks to these guys, the middle of our story has a happy ending.

We were stranded in the hotel until Monday. On Tuesday we lost the room to somebody with reservations. All that day we sat in the lobby, with Hoyer lift and all those bags around us, while we furiously made phone calls to the Nissan warranty garage 100 miles away. (We were waaaay out in nowhere.) It was a little bit exciting where we'd end up.

But long story short, we got the van back and on Tuesday night were back on the road. The rest of the trip was brilliant.

Roll on.