One day and forty-five minutes late, we are off on our new adventure. It is still dark outside and the temperature is minus seven Celcius. This is the first time I’ve been in the passengers seat and I am high up.
The delay happened because Ric decided to have a mechanic go over the RV before we headed out, even though it was safetied, and we had done some additional work on it. Turned out there were two leaks in the engine (oil pan had rusted out and needed replacing), left front brake was broken, right front wheel hub seal was leaking, and left front king pin needed attention. All could have caused major problems on the road.
Lesson# 1: Trust your own navigational skills, but leave the mechanics to their own experts.
The delay also happened to be a good thing, as my health took a turn for the worse days before our scheduled departure. Not sure if it was flu (ME/CFS often feels like the flu), but I had difficulty breathing, and was overly attached to the bathroom. Departure morning, I still have a gut ache, but it could very well be emotional. This is a big undertaking for us.
In planning for the trip, Ric had researched and purchased an attachment for the back of the RV to hold my recently acquired mobility scooter. It didn’t fit, so the wheelchair and my rolator are now on board instead. This is a disappointment and will have to be figured out for future travels.
Lesson # 2: Plan as much as you can, and leave room for flexibility.
Have I mentioned that I like to stew about things? For weeks leading up to our getaway, I have been worried about what food we can bring along (it’s all laid out on governmental sites), whether or not the current political state in the US would affect us, and of course, how my health would hold up for all this.
I have been telling myself over and over again that our life is not going to change for the better unless we do something about it, yet this niggling doubt has lingered. When we hit a snow squall with white out conditions just half an hour out of town, of course I think we are doomed. But, like many things, the storm passes, and we make it to the border before the usual traffic back up. The worse that has happened is that Ric’s side window is frozen shut, but after some comical gesturing and a lot of yelling, he does manage to slide it across and we hand over our passports, answer a few questions, and are on our way.
I feel the knot in my stomach start to ease. We are doing it!
Lesson #3: Leave worry out of it: have faith in the process.
Coming next: Tips for the Road and First Impressions of the U.S.A
Writer, avid reader, former educator, and proud grandmother, currently experiencing life through the lens of ME/CFS. Words are, and always have been, a lifeline. Some of the best adventures, I'm discovering, take place in the imagination.