Thursday, 7/10/97
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At eight o’clock in the morning was a week ago to the hour that we pulled off the Interstate Highway to investigate the cause of smoke behind us, leaking
transmission fluid. We have had breakfast and are finally pulling the trailer
out of the apple orchard that served as New Germany State Park's overflow campground. We have been the only ones still camping
there since Monday. I some how feel like we should have a crowd standing around
waving good-by to us as we clicked the Ruby Red Slippers together and departed.
We were underway with the next planned stop to be Enon Beach Campground near Dayton, Ohio. The transmission
seemed to be shifting out of first gear a little slowly, but it was two hours later, leaving our first rest stop that we notice
it again. An annoying squeak has begun somewhere in the car. It sounds like near the transmission hump, but it is the sound of something stationary being caused to
move back and forth against something else as we pass over the minor bumps in the road.
The "Engine" light is still going on and off. We start to worry.
Brennan is taking a turn driving as we approach Dayton. We are looking for Exit 47 and the Exit numbers are in the Fifties and dropping. We see Exit 48. We don't see Exit 47. It seems that we should have gotten off at Exit 48 if westbound. It is still early
in the afternoon so rather than have us turn around and come back, Bob as acting Navigator, spots Wright Patterson Air Force
Base Museum on the map in the direction we are going, so we elect to go see the Museum.
We follow the signs and eventually find the Air Museum. We watch the IMAX move "Magic
of Flight" from the 3rd row, center, and finish a fast walk through the museum as the 5 p.m. closing is announced on the PA. Then
we walk out on the Tarmac to see more airplanes stored out side. Finally back in the car, we start to navigate
our way back to Enon Beach Campground. By now we realize the directions I had
written onto our itinerary were for Eastbound traffic. That is now us, and indeed
there is an Exit 47 going this way. At the Campground office, they assign us
site LF9, and we continue into the camp past sites marked with post numbered 1 through 8 along the Lake Front
(LF?), then the numbers stop and new numbers start over again away from the lake. We
make another loop around the campground and this time while passing that last #8 post has #9 facing away from the direction
of approach, indicating that the space past the post is site #9. But there is
a car parked in the narrow site. We stare for a minute, trying to figure out
if we are in the right spot, when a man walks up from the site across the lane from the Lake Front. He says he will move his car. By now
Brennan is saying, "H-U-N-G-R-Y."
We Back the trailer in, unhook it from the Beast, set up the trailer, fix dinner, and are halfway finished eating when
Brennan observes that has been only 45 minutes since we pulled into the campground.
We discover that our hands are slimy black with old transmission oil and smoke deposits that had formed on the trailer
back when the problem started. We are both worried about the prospects of continuing
the trip. The Beast is really behaving strangely, what with the annoying squeak
now nearly continuous and louder, and with the unwillingness of the transmission to shift out of first gear at any speed below
45 mph.
After dinner, we get directions to the nearest Ford Dealer, five miles away.
We drive over to the dealership looking for a grocery store on the way. At
the dealership, it is already past closing time for the shop, but a salesman outside tells us that they reopen at 7:30 am. We pick
up groceries on the way back to camp. We call home to Ann and update her on our
prospects. With great anxiety, I decide that if the visit to the Ford shop tomorrow
morning does not provide a fix that can be completed in one day, that we may as well plan to get it fixed, and return home,
with our tail... or trailer between out legs. To cheer himself up, Bob does laundry
until bedtime.
