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RV/US Roundtrip BY BOB MIMS


Tis was the RV trip Barb and I had dreamed about, the one several previous excursions had, we hoped, prepared us to take with confidence and the leisure to savour every moment: a 4,000-mile round trip, cross-country tour of America in a little under four weeks.


We had traded in our cranky, 115,000-mile, 2000-model


Dodge Ram pickup for a new GMC Sierra to haul our 23-foot Salem Forest River travel trailer. Te idea was to eliminate as much of the risk of breakdowns as possible. A good move, as far as it went. Tis is to say, that precaution did not go far enough.


On a sunny, spring day we set out from Salt Lake City, our trailer packed with provisions; our border collie, Callie, taking up her cow-spotting perch in the back seat; and our 7-pound chug (Chihuahua-Pug) nestled in the lap of my wife, Barbara. We camped for the night in Rawlins, Wyoming, quaffed our morning coffee and headed in to Nebraska . . . and that’s when our idyllic trip turned into an odyssey of Homeric proportions (or so it seemed to us). It was late on the aſternoon of that day, near


the end of a long, hot and windy drive across the breadth of Nebraska, when I noticed the gas gauge was nearing empty. We had planned to camp the night in Henderson, Nebraska, just across the North Platte River, but I didn’t want to chance going dry – so I pulled into a gas station just off Interstate 80, about 10 miles south of Grand Island. I pumped the gas, paid and was about to climb behind the


wheel when before I could turn the key in the ignition a young woman was at the driver’s side window. “Do you have jumper cables? Could you give me a jump? My battery’s dead,” she asked. I admit I was not overjoyed at the request. We were 35


miles from our night stop, had been on the road, buffeted by the prairie winds for 12 hours, and I was tired. But I saw my


38 RVT 148 • JULY/AUGUST 2012


daughter in those pleading eyes – the same daughter we would be spending time with in South Carolina, the midpoint of our trip. “Sure,” I said, forcing a smile. We had her engine purring


soon, and as I began to pull our rig out of the station’s parking lot, there she was again, frantically waving. I rolled down the window. Now what? “Your trailer wheels look . . . funny. Something looks wrong,”


she said. Oh, yes. Something was wrong, all right. On the right side,


the two wheels were splayed at odd angles. Closer inspection found them hanging on by gravity, only; the bearings had not only burned out but somewhere on I-80, unknown to us, had blown the hubs off, literally shattering them. We ended up parked for the night in the station’s parking lot, unable to move. Finally, a mechanic arranged by our Good Sam’s road


coverage plan arrived. “You’re lucky you stopped,” he said with a whistle. “Tere’s nothing to keep those wheels from just coming off. You probably would’ve rolled and caught fire if that happened on I-80.” Twist of fate, some would say. Luck, others might add. But to


us, it was a God thing that we stopped when we did, and took the time to help a stranger. Te next morning, Rich & Sons RV sent a flatbed truck


to tow the trailer to their shop in Grand Island. Both axles, both wheels replaced: $1,600. I was impressed with the service and professionalism, and also what we didn’t pay for – the friendliness and suggestions for how to spend the day while they fixed our trailer.


OUCH: a trailer towing job! What’s to see in the middle of the Nebraska prairie, you ask?


Well, we were pleasantly surprised to find the Stuhr Museum of the Prairie Pioneer: www.stuhrmuseum.org. Befitting a state of wide, open spaces, this “museum” spans


200 acres and has been honoured by True West magazine as one of the best living history attractions in the U.S. We easily spent a day exploring restore steam locomotives; the gardens and flowers of the Hornady Family Arbor; a log cabin


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