The one thing I’ve learned in my early time since being an RV guy, is that you can never be too cautious when it comes to RV safety. So whether you are driving, hitching up, putting chalks in place, checking trailer lights, ensuring the trailer brakes work, or emptying the dreaded black and grey tanks (which for non-Rv folks are the sewage and soap water residue tanks). No matter what the chore is, it’s important to take your time and get things right.
As I consider myself the Captain of the good ship Ladybug, I also believe it is my duty to impart my wisdom and important lessons to my darling shipmate, Bernadette. Admittedly, this has been at tad challenging at times. While Bernadette may feign interest during my many RV lessons, she is adamant that will have nothing to do with emptying the black and grey tanks. In fact, she quite vocally reinforces that these specific chores are solely my responsibility. While some might think this borderline mutinous behaviour, Bernadette’s strong objections and hard stare can be pretty scary, so I have learned another important lesson and added another chore to my lengthy list. I am now Captain of emptying the black and grey tanks too.
The other day, as we embarked early on our road trip, Captain Pete was feeling pretty darn good. We were making good time, it was a sunny day, and the country music was bopping on the radio. Before we left, I carefully went through my list and checked off all jobs as done. The black and grey tanks were gleaming, and I even circled Ladybug twice to double check that all was good to go. Thumbs up. And we were off.
As we were barrelling down the highway, a small truck towing a Uhaul came roaring up beside us. I was stunned as this rosy-faced woman was screaming at me at the top of her lungs and gesturing rudely!
“What the hell is that lady screaming?” I asked my navigator. “She sure has nerve to be that rude.” So, I tapped on the gas leaving that belligerent lady behind.
Again, that truck sped up beside us and the red faced lady was now hanging half way out of her passenger window. She was screaming louder.
I turned down Hank Snow on the radio and opened the window. “What’s up lady?”
By now, this lady’s eyes were bulging and her rosy cheeks were almost blistering. She hung out the window again and hollered.
I was completely baffled and hollered back, “What the heck do you mean my hair is down?”
“No!” she boomed, “Your stairs are down!!!!!”
It was at that point that I instantly stopped breathing and my heart almost lurched onto the highway. “Holy crap, hang on Bernadette!”
Fortunately, the highway had a good-sized shoulder that I was able to inch over onto and slowly come to a stop. Even for a brave Captain like me, it is unnerving to feel the swhoosh of giant trucks blazing by as I stepped out onto the side of the highway. I carefully slithered around the hood of the truck and ran back to put Ladybug’s stairs safely up.
After returning to my pilots seat, I was trying to calm my madly beating heart and at the same time, felt the burning stare of my navigator. “Next time,” she rasped, “Make sure you check the stairs before we leave, Captain Pete.” Bernadette is a very wise shipmate. And this early day produced another hard lesson learned for her Captain.
P.S. A special thanks to that woman and her husband for their care and selfless efforts to warn us and to keep us safe.
