Can a Woman Drive a Big RV?

In this RVtravel.com weekly video tip, Candy Wood, Vice-President of RVingWomen.org, answers the question posed by many novice women RVers, "Can I drive a big recreational vehicle?" This was videotaped at The Rally in Redmond, Ore., in July, 2007.

Gifts from Atwood

While I was working at The Rally, I looked for a mobile RV repair person since my water heater had stopped working. It had been repaired and worked for a few days, only to stop just before I left for Redmond. Since I had been blessed with full hookups, I wanted to take a shower inside the RV.

I couldn't find an RV repair person but someone from Camping World told me the Atwood people were sitting outside at a table under a tent. They weren't selling anything. Instead, a gentleman listened to my problem, took my name and site number, and said he would send someone to look at the water heater.

The next day, two tech specialists from Atwood Mobile Products in Elkhart, Indiana, Will Troyer and Mike Williams, showed up and immediately assessed the problem. They pronounced my water heater "a dinosaur." The new circuit board I had installed ("It probably cost you quite a bit to have this done, didn't it?) was not the proper one for an outside installation due to exposure. Will told me to return the board for a refund. The water heater had leaked in the past and was successfully repaired. They pronounced it safe to use. Mike removed the circuit board and the rubber pad under it, which also removed yet another loose wire. Then he installed a brand-new circuit board just like one used in a new water heater. He replaced the fuse, showed me how it was connected and gave me a spare. When he plugged in the fuse and I pushed the button, the electronic ignition worked flawlessly. Then he told me when I returned home to remove the old drain plug, empty the tank and run water through it to rinse out any sediment. He gave me two new extra drain plugs and recommended some plumbing tape for a secure seal.

It was a hot day (90 degrees, I believe) and I gave them ice water. They drank, thanked me and drove to their next customer.

The cost? Free. Their repair? Priceless.

Experience is a teacher: day 3

A former Chrysler mechanic was called out of retirement to work on the rig. It turns out the alternator was fine, there were two loose wires and the ground wire was bouncing on the engine, causing the problems. I had run the generator while I drove and the house batteries were fully charged. The starter battery was down to five volts.

At 1:30, both the mechanic and the man who runs the repair facility showed me the work they had done. New wiring was installed, a new regulator was installed and I was told to start the engine. It clicked but didn't turn over. I was reminded that the starter battery had almost been depleted and I was assured within 10 minutes, it would be fully charged. The head of the repair facility looked me in the eye and said, "I know. I guarantee it will be fine or I wouldn't let you drive it."

As you can imagine, I was very apprehensive about getting on the road again. We started the engine with the magic starter button and I saw the alternator gauge begin to move toward the middle. Another deep breath and we headed for Redmond.

We arrived at the fairgrounds at 3 and found the registration area. Andrea went inside with the paperwork while I sat in the RV with the engine running. No shutting off the engine until I knew exactly where we were going to be parked. She came out and said since I was a day late arriving, no one knew where I was supposed to go and suggested I try the exhibitor registration (since we were working in a booth).

I pulled into the exhibitor registration area and left the engine running. I tried to explain who I am and what I was doing there, begging for a 30 amp spot instead of dry camping. Finally, Bob Livingston (the same man who wrote the RV repair manual) was called, he found me on the seminar instructors list and I told him about the problems we had. I pleaded for an electrical hookup, pointed to the idling RV and told him I was afraid to shut off the engine. He said, "Follow me. I'll take care of you."

He climbed in a golf cart and we followed him into a brand-new RV park that was being set up next to the fairgrounds. He directed me into a back-in site with full hookups. Wow! Our 10.5-hour trip had taken 48 hours but we arrived safely.

I turned off the engine.

Experience is a teacher: day 2

We awoke at 6 and tried to start the RV. No luck. Scott from the local towing company gave us a jump and told us how to start the rig with the starter button using the house batteries. We left at 7 and headed north.

Highway 97 in Oregon is beautiful but there aren't many services along the way that are open when you need them. I noticed that the alternator didn't seem to be charging the battery. The engine started losing power and the gas gauge was reading empty. Fortunately, I saw a gas station on the left and managed to coast into it, stopping at the pumps. Then I noticed the large "For Sale" sign with a reference to the realty company. I was in front of the closed Sand Creek RV Park and gas station.
And I was out of gas. Now I needed gas and a jump. I called the road service and was beginning to think I should have their number on speed dial.

A nice gentleman with a tow truck showed up 90 minutes later with five gallons of gas for which he charged $21. The service call was free. We paid and he gave us a jump, showing me how to use the back-up starter button. He also recommended running the generator while I drove to keep the batteries charged. He told us where the next gas station was located and off we went.

We pulled up to a small store with gas pumps and two motorcyclists at the pump. I shut off the engine before one of them said, "They're closed. The guy didn't show up today." Great. Andrea went to the store next door to find someone to give us a jump.

I sat there frustrated and fuming, and thought, "Why not try that back-up button?" I did, it started and I pulled up to the store just as Andrea came out with a couple who were going to give us a jump. She climbed aboard and we continued to Chimult and a real service station with pumps that were open. In fact, people in Oregon pump gas for you. A gentleman filled the RV, I used the magic starter button and we were on the road again.

We made it as far as 27 miles south of La Pine when the engine started backfiring, the battery shut off and the engine died. I coasted to a wide spot on the side of the highway and pushed the brake pedal to the floor (no hydro boost when the engine isn't running). We stopped. I took a deep breath, looked at the side of the road disappearing into the valley floor, felt the buffeting from the trucks passing and dialed road service again.

A tow truck was sent from La Pine and we were towed to Central Oregon RV Parts and Service. We were within an hour of Redmond, our final destination, but the road service would only cover a tow to the nearest repair facility. We arrived around 5 and I told them what had happened. They could work on the rig--at 9 am.

We went to Gordy's Truck Stop next door and had a very tasty meal. They serve a "soup of the moment" which happened to be creamy potato. With real potatoes, real carrots and real cream. Andrea and I sent kudos to the chef. Gordy's also has the cleanest bathrooms we had ever seen. I found the free wi-fi, plugged in and set up in the laundry room (where I was assured of the best signal). Then I returned to the rig and we spent the night.

"Experience is a teacher...

...but here's what makes me burn:
She's always teaching me the things
I do not care to learn."

Day 1: So I picked up my friend and co-author Andrea on Monday at 3 in San Francisco on a level street in an industrial area, perfect for getting on and off the freeway in an RV. We were supposed to arrive in Redmond, Oregon on Tuesday between 7 and noon, and it was a 10.5 hour trip. No problem. We drove north and stopped in Williams at 6 for gas. So far, so good.

When I tried to start the engine, it wouldn't turn over. A co-worker who had an '84 Southwind told me if I had that problem with a hot engine, I should wait about 15 minutes and try again. I did and it still wouldn't start. I asked a man in the next lane for a jump and he whined, "But I just bought my Jeep!" I was trying to figure out the logic of his statement while I called my insurance company. They were trying to find someone to give me a jump when an older truck with a very nice man named Fred pulled into the next lane for gas. After he pumped the gas, he lifted his hood and was checking his oil. Andrea asked if he could give us a jump and he pulled out long, thick jumper cables which worked great to get us started. He said not to use the $6 jumper cables. We thanked him and continued our journey north.

We arrived in Redding around 8:30 and found Costco. Andrea is a member and she went inside to ask the manager about staying in the lot since we were having engine problems. He claimed not to know anything about us staying there, an approval of sorts. Andrea purchased some food, we ate and slept in the lot with no problems.

Response from Midas

I received a call today from Mr. Robert Curcio, general manager of the Midas shop that worked on my tailpipes and nine others. He was responding to my article and email about what happened when I brought my RV into the shop to replace the gas hoses and tailpipes.

There are two sides to every story and I will relate his. When he found out I had waited all day and into the night for the job to be finished, only to return the next day to replace the broken weld, he was furious. Mr. Curcio said he had problems with Rick on previous occasions related to the same issue: work was done poorly, necessitating the customer return the following day to have the work completed. He said Rick related well with the customers but his actions in the workplace were not up to standard.

Mr. Curcio said Rick was not terminated. When Mr. Curcio spoke with him about my problem specifically and confronted him, Rick's response was, "Well, if you don't like the way I work, why don't you just fire me?"

In the interest of fairness, both sides of the story have now been told.

Roadworthy: Halleluja!

I am delighted to announce the RV is finally roadworthy. She starts, she stops and all systems work. Tonight, I picked out road music for the trip. Tomorrow I will drive her around the neighborhood, check out the newly-tuned engine and get a feel for the new brakes. By the way, there were spiders living inside the brake drums, indicating no one had worked on the brakes in quite a while. With the remains of mice and wasps inside the RV too, I wonder where it was parked? It's a mystery.

On Monday afternoon, I will leave for the Good Sam Rally in Redmond, Oregon with my friend and co-author, Andrea. The trip should take ten hours but I plan to break that up with a long rest stop after dark. We need to arrive between 7 and noon on Tuesday. Time to have some fun! If you're in the area, drop by the Pine Country Publishing/RV Authors Co-op booth and say hello. Alice Zyetz is coordinating the booth and we're both teaching seminars.

Follow-up: Midas was notified about what happened to Rick the mechanic, my shock at his termination, and the resulting loss of business from the publication of the narrative, especially among RVers who may need mufflers, tailpipes, brakes, etc. Before I received a response, I was mailed a thank-you note and a coupon for a free oil change. Back to the keyboard.

More good news: after hearing about the previous problems with the RV I purchased from the "master mechanic," I am happy to say that all subsequent mechanics who worked on her have treated her and me very well. From Rick and his son Rick at the Midas shop to the man at the Shell station who did the tune-up to Bill and his crew at the brake shop, they were determined to prove that not all mechanics cheat their customers, especially females. Bill and the members of his crew at Seaview Tire & Brake in Pacifica, CA went the extra mile to be sure I was safe when driving the RV. The man who worked on the RV drove it on the freeway and off before calling me to pick it up. (Actually, he really enjoyed driving it with the power of the Chevy 454 since he said that engine isn't used in cars any more). They all treated me like an extended member of the family. Bill kept the costs within my budget and did much more work than he was paid for. When I return next week, he asked me to stop at the shop while they examine how the brakes performed.

It was an expensive lesson. No doubt some of the problems were the fault of the seller. Some were my fault. Some were the result of age or inactivity. This RV will not stay parked for months at a time. It's meant to move and it will.

Who do you trust? Soapbox warning

I was beginning to think my RV was cursed and I would never get to Moscow, Idaho for the Life on Wheels Conference. As someone said, "You're running out of things to fix."

We waited until early afternoon to bring the RV to the shop. Rick drove and I followed in the car. He met the other two namesakes and they discussed the problems.
In ten minutes, they were practically friends and I knew I was in good hands. We left the shop and went to Rick's RV to wait for a phone call. The shop closed at 5.

At 4:50, I called and the very stressed manager said they were still working on the RV. At 6, she called and said, "Some of us have to go home. We have families." Uh-oh.
So Rick and I headed back to the shop. Meanwhile, the dad called to say he would wait for us to get there.

Soapbox mode on: Father and son remounted the tailpipes but couldn't inspect the brakes. Reason? Dad was fired. He took too long helping me because he wanted to be sure I was safe on the road, and didn't get me in and out of the shop with a quick turnaround. He was told to finish installing the tailpipe and leave. The son is still working there, but I don't know for how much longer.

We felt awful. Customers have faces and sometimes our needs are beyond a quick diagnostic and an oil change. We're not just a click in your database. The worst part of this is that the general manager will never know how much business he lost because of one customer. And why would you punish someone for going the extra mile (literally and figuratively)?

When he was taking a break from working on my RV, we talked about the days not too many years ago when you could drive down the street you would find a shop that worked on engines, a shop that handled tires, upholstery, etc. There were craftsmen who took pride in their work and knew you would recommend them to your friends and neighbors. Now a customer is a 10-minute job, a 30-minute job or the $2600 Toyota. It's like a doctor referring to a patient as "the gall bladder in 215" instead of Mrs. Jones.

By the way, I was only charged for four hours of labor.

I am outraged by what happened. A man with 25 years of experience and multiple certifications is out of work because he treated the customer like more than a number. And he took pride in his craft because he knew that my life depended on it.

Soapbox mode off.

Who do you trust? continued

The interior work was almost completed on the RV so I called the local Midas shops in the area and found one with a large enough bay to work on a motorhome. It was only three freeway exits away. Time to bite the bullet and get the gas hoses replaced and the new tailpipes installed.

The manager is a woman and though I waited for a few hours, she and her crew were unable to do the work on Thursday so I could leave Friday as planned. I was going to recommend her shop to my RVing women friends since it was easy to enter and exit, and they had a large bay. I found out later that the lifts are only set up for 7000 pounds max, too light for most RVs. I met the father/son team (both named Rick, so the son was called Ricky) who would be working on my RV, told them what had happened so far and made an appointment for 9 am on Friday. They would need to drop the gas tank (with at least 65 gallons of gas in it), replace the bad fuel hoses and install tailpipes). By the way, after they looked at the RV, their analysis was almost word-for-word with that of my friend Rick. These men were trustworthy.

When I said the interior work was almost completed, the shower installation hadn't been finished because the repair guy couldn't get his arm far enough into the opening to attach and clamp the hoses. I still didn't have running water. I was supposed to drive to the shop after the tailpipe installation and have him finish the job there (and install the shower vent). He called Thursday night and said the shop was full of RVs so he had no room. I told him about the appointment at 9 on Friday and he said he would be at the RV park around 8 to do the work.

Later Thursday night, my friend Rick (yep-there are three Ricks in this story) came over and was determined to get my shower working. He did some damage to his arm and shoulder trying to cram it in the small space but after an hour, he was able to complete the installation minus the plastic clamps that fell into the floor and disappeared. He told me what was needed.

Now it gets complicated. I called the repair guy at 7 am to tell him he needed to bring more hose clamps; the rest of the installation was done. He said the shop didn't open until 9 so he couldn't get the parts until then, so he would come to the muffler shop and complete the installation there.

I arrived at the muffler shop at 8:50 am. At 9:30, Steve the repair guy arrived with his Skil-saw, cut a hole in the closet floor and was able to finish the shower installation "with only a small drip from the hot water." Then he left.

At 12:30, Rick and Ricky finally wrapped up the vehicles they were working on and brought mine in front of the bay. They had to work on the ground. I really felt sorry for them as it was a cold, damp day there. A third man helped them when he could. Meanwhile, a man arrived to clean the windows at the shop and a crew arrived later to paint, so customers had to sit outside. Let me tell you, the fun never ends when you spend the day outside a muffler shop.

The shop closed at 6 and the manager stayed until 7. The men said they would keep working until the job was done and lock up. She left and they kept working.

At 11 pm (yes, 14 hours after I arrived and 10.5 hours after they started the job), they were finished. I asked them to follow me to my exit since it was dark and foggy. They were concerned that I would get home safely so they agreed. There are two large sweeping steep downhill curves on Highway 1 and I was a little worried. Oh--I forgot to mention that my windshield wipers are old and they didn't have any at the shop that would fit. The clarity of the windshield was marginal at best. There was a mist in the air and the wiper just smeared it.

So I waited for them to suit up and get on their motorcycles. The headlights and taillights worked but the running lights didn't (probably a fuse). Anyway, I was less than five miles away and three exits from home.

We took off down the driveway, out to the street and onto the freeway a short time later. The RV handled the onramp just fine and we were on our way. As I cleared the top of the hill and began the first curve, my dash lights started to dim. I was steering with one hand and trying to twist the knob for better light. No luck.

I turned the now completely ineffective wipers off; they had slowed and almost stopped. The headlights dimmed and went out. Great. Now I'm in the dark in the fog with a smeared windshield, no lights and the brake pedal was getting closer and closer to the floor.

OK. I was officially scared. If I couldn't get the brakes to slow me down, I would careen off the cliff into the Pacific Ocean with perhaps enough height to clear the roofs of the houses below. I was practically standing on the pedal. I pumped the brakes and managed to slow a little. I was never so happy to see an offramp in my life. The two guys were right behind me.

I didn't stop at the stop sign but slowed the RV to 25. Thank goodness there was no cross traffic. I turned into the RV park and found the way down the row to my site. All I hoped for was that someone wasn't in the site. I saw my car in the site next to it, turned and pulled it into the space. And stopped.

The guys pulled up behind my car. I went to the door and opened it, my legs wobbly and my hands shaking. The dad said, "We wanted to tell you that when you left the driveway at the shop, you hit the tailpipe and knocked it loose from the weld. It was bouncing on the road."

The son said, "You know you only have one brake light?"

My jaw dropped. "I had NO lights at all and my brakes were failing! I couldn't see out the windshield because the wiper didn't work. Thank goodness I remembered to pump the brakes and that worked."

The guys had no idea. They couldn't see the front of the RV. They congratulated me for handling the RV so well. Then the dad said to get a wire hanger and wrap up the tailpipe so I could bring it back to the shop the next day. I thanked them and they went home.

I called my friend Rick and was still shaking when he arrived. He wired the tailpipe and checked the engine. The alternator had quit and my brake fluid was two different colors, neither of them correct. He recommended having them check the brakes the next day when I brought the RV in for repair. Then he said, "Would you like me to drive the RV to the shop and you follow in your car?" I readily agreed. He went home and I tried to sleep.

Now I can laugh

I knew my RV had mice living in her at one time. They left a nest and nibbled on one of the shelves. However, the little freeloaders really made themselves at home.

When Gail installed my AM/FM/CD player in the dash, he reached in to find the wires he needed. Then he looked at me and said, "You had mice in here."

I replied, "Yes, I know. I had a crew clean out the cabinets and drawers, and shampoo the carpet."

He said, "They were behind the dash. And they liked walnuts." He pulled out several walnuts, some intact and some chewed through to the nut meat.

He reached in again and said, "And they liked...sunflower seeds." He pulled out an empty David's Sunflower Seeds package.

He reached in again and said, "And they liked...Ritz Crackers." He pulled out the entire inner wrapper.

I shook my head and grinned. "Anything else?"

"Nope. That's it."

I guess I should be grateful they didn't send out for pizza!

With a little help from my friends

My beloved old and gracious Wendy was purchased Monday by a very nice man who will be driving her to Burning Man. He and his friend picked her up today and she was a bit balky. Fortunately, my neighbor David was driving by and he had started her earlier in the week. He stopped and after knowing where to strike with my hammer, she started, ran and drove for the first of a few laps around the park. Not only did David get her started, he offered to wash her before the men left the park. They stopped at his fifth wheel where he had all the equipment necessary including a long-handled brush. I'm taking David and his lovely wife Lisa to dinner tonight to thank them, although their assistance is priceless.

Update on the current RV: today is the first day I don't have someone working on her or in her. All the work that could be done here was finished yesterday. The only remaining installations are the cold water connection to the shower faucet (neither of us could get our hands in far enough to reach it) and the new shower vent. Rick, another friend, will be over later to take care of those problems. Tomorrow morning, I take the RV to Midas where they have a bay large enough for motorhomes and they will install the tailpipes. Then I will have her smogged, drop her off at the park and register her. Keep your fingers crossed all the above activities go smoothly.

Friday morning, I will be leaving for Moscow, Idaho and the Life on Wheels conference. I hope to arrive on Sunday which will give me a bit of a breather before the classes begin on Monday.