(this post is about Thursday, March 31, 2011)
Standin’ on the corner, in Winslow Arizona
What a fine sight to see…
It’s a girl, my Lord, in a flat bed Ford
Slowing down to take a look at me…
You all know the song…. by the Eagles…. and here we are in Winslow!!!!
The reason we are STILL in Winslow is because the motorhome check engine light came on two more times in the morning on our way from Flagstaff to Winslow. Now this time we got a code from the dash readout. Yes, injector three is giving us intermittent grief. Argghhhhhh Steve had changed out both fuel filters, so we knew it wasn’t the fuel. The codes flashing showed what the problem was. So we pulled into the Flying J on the east side of town and talked to a few truckers. They advised us to use High Chaparral Truck Repair, just around the corner and down the road a bit. Well, that is just what we did.
Most diesel truck places don’t even want to work on RV engines. The location of most diesel engines in large motorhomes are very difficult to access, due to bedroom slides, little trap doors and workers having to be so careful of grease in and out on their shoes and clothing. So truck repair shops charge a higher hourly rate for motorhome repairs to make up for the added trouble of dealing with RVs.
On the phone, Steve assured him that since our motorhome had a large king sized bed that totally lifts up out of the way, and a mechanic can get right in there and stand on top of the engine. Having a side entry door helps too, so the workers are not walking through the entire length of the rig through livingroom carpeted areas. We have plastic tablecloths to set down on the floor for added protection too.
The owner, Dave Prine, agreed to take a look at our rig. We drove right over, and he said yes, it’s best to replace the injector now rather than do further damage. He seemed very knowledgeable. His shop was busy getting a UPS driver back on the road, and taking care of a few other vehicles. All customers seemed happy and left with smiles on their faces. He ordered an injector out of Albuquerque and said we were welcome to boondock overnight in his parking lot! The new injector should arrive on Friday morning. Steve is comfortable letting him work on our rig, which is hard for him to turn over his baby to someone else.
He recommended a few places to check out while we were in the area, such as the Painted Desert County Park just north of town… My oh my, that was an amazing place! We were driving the Tracker north through sagebrush and tumbleweeds, and suddenly the flat land opened up into the most wonderful colors of sand and hills and dunes and stripes of terrain! It looked like the Bad Lands of S. Dakota, but instead of all rock, this was all sandy textures. It was very windy, and we were being “sandblasted” as we stood on the rim.
We drove along the rim on a rough road that was blocked off, but we explored it a bit anyhow. The colors of the sands varied in each level, and the photos don’t do it justice.
Once we got back to the motorhome, we started to cook up some supper in the Easy Bake oven (yummm Aldi’s chicken pot pies) but Steveio had noticed that we were next door to the Dairy Queen! While supper was cooking, we HAD to go over and buy a bag of dilly bars to stow in the freezer in the motorhome. Steve is a Dilly Bar Addict!
What is a Dilly Bar you may ask? Well, it’s ice cream formed in a round circle on a stick, coated in crunchy dipping, in either chocolate, butterscotch or cherry.
When I was a child, the Dairy Queen in our town would have printing on the stick to be discovered once you ate the Dilly Bar. Sometimes it was just a Dairy Queen symbol, but other times it said “FREE DILLY” which meant if you brought back the stick, you would get one for free! That was at the Dairy Queen in Cedarburg, WI that our family friend, Loretta Heidemann worked at. We always loved stopping there.
Once we ate up our supper, we went BACK to the Dairy Queen… for a real treat! Wowzer, those are HUGE!
(I had the one on the right, with sprinkles, for Roger to drool over once he saw the picture)
I could only eat up half of mine. We should have shared one, but Steve wanted different toppings on his than what I wanted on mine. He ate all of his.
As we curled up to go to sleep, with the sounds of the yard dog barking it’s head off across the street. Oh well, life in the city I suppose. Dukie told him off. LOL
And …. as we went to sleep…
we took the advice of the Eagles, while strains of that song filtered through our brains:
JUST TAKE IT EASSSSSYYYYY