King of the Road

Hours spent on Craigslist have finally paid off! We found and purchased a 1985 Chevrolet “King Of The Road” motor home. We picked it up Tuesday night. It's actually in pretty good shape for a 26 year old motor home. Everything pretty much works and most of the things it will need are cosmetic. The husband says the upholstery is beige. I say it's peach and therefore most of it will be going. It will sleep 6 and has a refrigerator, stove and very small oven. The boys have proclaimed it “Awesome” and my youngest has even begun packing...for next summer. I really hope that box of wine fits in the fridge.  Here it is!

We bought it locally and it has stickers affixed to the side and back that indicate it was originally sold through a local dealership. We think we are the third or maybe 4^th owners and it has been very well maintained. It does, however, have some issues. Which brings me back to our Tuesday night adventure. The husband spent a good portion of the afternoon at the DMV getting the license plates, so I had hoped once I got home from what was a very long first day of final exams we could relax, have dinner, then go pick up the motor home. But, since the husband was filled with all the excitement and exuberance of a toddler on Christmas morning he proclaimed that we MUST GO NOW. At rush hour. During exam week. Okey dokey. So we troop over, kids in tow, and the current owner has it running in the driveway when we arrive. This should have been clue number one. He goes over a few things and then we all pile in to take it for a drive around the block. That's when the current owner informs us of 2 facts:

1. Someone left a light on and the battery was dead. He had replaced it, handed us the receipt, and said something about it not being “fully charged so don't shut it off.”
2. He did not fill the tank and the gas was running low.

Now, those of you with children know that toddlers on Christmas morning are not known for their listening skills and at that moment, keys to his new toy in hand, neither was the husband. We all shook hands, I got back in the van to follow them home and we were off. The motor home had traveled maybe a mile or 2 when the husband hung a left. Into a gas station. On a 4 lane road. At the end of a freeway exit ramp. And it's still rush hour. And he shut it off.

I'm sure you can guess what happened next. After feeding it about 100 bucks worth of gas, it would not start. Wouldn't even turn over. And we were now blocking an entire side of the gas pumps. I remember a lot of car horns. And some “colorful language.” I was dispatched back to the original owners home for a set of jumper cables, a trip that should have taken mere minutes. However, in the time it took us to fill up eleventy thousand parents had arrived to block the road in front of the boys and girls club down the street while they dropped off their progeny for a little league baseball game. And the original owner was no longer at home. Half an hour later I hit up a home center, bought a set of jumper cables, and headed back to the gas station. It took about 5 minutes of revving the engine in the van, but we finally got it running and were on our way again. We made it home in one piece and I fed the kids eggs. At 8 pm. I'll let you guess what I had for dinner.

We put the battery on a charger the next day and I'm happy to report that we have since been able to get it started. We're beginning to plan our first trip, probably sometime in July, and not too far from home. I'll be packing the jumper cables.