-Gramps-

It is very quiet around the house. There is no tapping of little doggie nails on the hardwood floor. No tinkling of a metal dog tag against the side of the food bowl. There is no cheerful crunch of the doggie eating his breakfast. Life continues to go on. Diane will laugh at a joke, e-mailed to her from one of our friends, when it arrives in her mailbox. She will cry when a sympathy card, snail mailed by one of our friends, shows up in the standard mailbox. She also cries after taking a phone call from family or friends. Diane was really moved when Miss Vickie, owner of Salty Dog grooming, sent a card and a dish garden. I mostly mope around, feeling sorry for myself. It obviously isn't going to be easy to recover from this loss. I find myself googling puppy sites, wondering if we should consider another dog. Wisdom says it is too soon. Exercising wisdom, in and of itself, does not remove the pain of loss. I have heard that chocolate makes one feel better when one is hurting. If we stocked much chocolate around here, I would eat it all. I am hitting the Chips Ahoy pretty hard. Prayer is better for me than chocolate or cookies. It is easier on the waistline. I look out my office window at our motorhome and I can't help but think how much we will miss our pup the next trip out. Nickolas was such a large part of our life in the coach. He spent his last good week with us at a motor coach rally. Diane and I hosted the event. It was for the Workhorse Chassis Motorhome Club. WCMC is a FMCA International chapter. The rally took place at Camp Hatteras, in Rodanthe, North Carolina, the first week of October. Fifty nine coaches were in attendance. We called it The Sound and the Sea Rally. The rally was a lot of work for me and Diane. Fortunately we had a lot of help. We planned all the events for the week, decorated the tables with shells, hung large kites and windsocks from the ceiling and on the wall, provided printed name tags, ran the fifty/fifty lottery and we were a two-person complaint and problem department. We catered most of the meals, had lots of seminars, (including a Wi-Fi and computer security Q&A session provided by me) and, on the last night, my son's band "Long Division" played.Their set started out a bit rough, but once they adjusted the volume for a bunch of non-college folks, it ended up sounding really good. I booked an absolutely hilarious comedy lecturer who had the audience eating out of his hand! I happened to be the lecturer and my subject was my Rules for Owing a Motorcoach. Actually, I was pleasantly surprised at how well the whole week went. The formal surveys turned in by the attendees were mostly positive. The last day, I helped some people with coach problems get their jacks retracted, their steps in, and watched them pull away. I then went kite flying, four at once, with Nickolas sitting by my chair. Unfortunately, about half way through the week, we noticed that Nickolas was not feeling very well. We were not alarmed, but by the day after the rally, he was not doing well at all. After we returned home he just got worse until the end. Sometimes the two of us find ourselves just sitting and staring at each other. We both know what the other is thinking. Diane is holding Nickolas' favorite blanket, I am looking at his favorite spot on the floor wishing that my four-footed special someone could still fetch my slippers for me. I don't bother to go fetch them for myself. Diane and I continue to move forward. Each day gets a little easier, but our hearts are still raw to the touch. Today my daughter Christine is over with our grandsons and Bella the sweet Bulldog. Tonight we will watch Toy Story 3 and have a few laughs. Tomorrow, well, it will just have to take care of itself. This weekend we are hoping to return to Camp Hatteras. We will be attending our Good Sams Chapter Christmas/Thanksgiving party campout. Diane and I are looking forward to being with a lot of friends. It always helps to be with friends, especially RVing ones, when trying to get over the loss of a friend. I should know. This makes two for me. Gramps

This was a premonition.....

Nickolas is gone to the place where good dogs go. His life on this earth ended just the way he wanted it to end. In memory of him I reprise these words: The Human Whisperer Nickolas, the family pupster here! I asked Dad if he would let me post again. Last time, I hijacked his blog and posted on the sly. This time he said okay. I wanted to leave him and Mom a note. They may need what I write here one day. I am almost 85 years old now, in relative terms, and so I can say that chances are I have a little bit of time left, but only a little. I don't worry about the end of my life. Mom and Dad do that for me. They comment on how white my face is compared to how it used to look. They talk about how slow I am to get up from my nap in front of the TV. They don't like for me to wear myself out going up and down the coach steps. They concern themselves with how hot I am, because I pant a lot. Mom bought me this slick blue water-filled pad to help keep me cool. I am not crazy about it but I sleep on it, and that makes her feel better even if it doesn't do much for me. They really worry about a tumor that is growing on my left side. They talk about how much they hope it isn't cancer, but if it is, what they can do about it? Mom and Dad, especially Dad, could stand to learn a bit about life from me. Like I said, I don't worry. I don't worry about that lump or much of anything else. I don't give much thought to the squirrels that I can't chase around the back yard anymore. Actually, I never worried about them when I was younger, either. The moment one takes off up a tree, that's it for me. I find something else to think about-like breakfast. I can say for sure that life is far too short to spend time worrying about anything, except dinner. I love both of my people a lot. They have always given me a good life. I still have a good life even if things are changing. I can't hear much of anything anymore. I used to hear the brakes on Dad's old truck three blocks away. Mom was always amazed when I went to the door to wait for him, long before he pulled up in front of the house. Now I am sometimes surprised by him at the door instead of the other way around. But that is okay. I still follow him to his office desk, furiously wagging my tail, and he never fails to give my back a good scratch. Sometimes Dad is so tense when he gets home at the end of the day. I know it is my job to do something to help him, so giving the dog a good back scratching does as much, if not more, for Dad as it does for me. There was a time when Dad and Mom were saying something about Dad having a kidney stone. Dad was in pretty bad shape. I saw him on his knees next to his bed. He was sweating and moaning. The pain was so intense that Dad was starting to panic. I jumped up on the bed to be near him. I kissed his nose and then lay down. He put his hands on me and buried his face in my side. I did what I was supposed to do, I soaked up his pain. It took a little while but Dad calmed down and I could sense that he started to feel a bit better. I usually stick close to Mom, but Dad needed me, so I stayed right there with him for the rest of the day. During our last trip out in our coach (I like to call it the Bus) Mom and Dad watched this movie about a person who helps to heal horses. This person is called a horse whisperer. Dad says that I am a Human Whisperer. I am not sure what that means, but if being a Human Whisperer means being there for my people, reminding them that life should be lived mostly in the present and that love and kindness are what keeps us going, then that is what I am. I love my people. They are like gods to me. They are bigger and stronger than me and I trust them to look after me. I hope my love for them is a reminder that there is a greater power that is stronger and bigger than they are who loves them, too. I think it does. Many years ago we were on a camping trip, in a tent; this was before we got our fancy bus. It was a beautiful fall day and Dad grilled T-bone steaks for their dinner. The smell was great. I knew that they would share the best part of these wonderful smelling things with me. They would give me the bones. I was so excited to get one. Dad looked at me, happily chomping away, and then he looked at the mountains around us and the woods with all its bright colors. "This is just a bone", he said. "What?" Mom asked. "What are you talking about?" "This life and this world is just a bone" Dad said. "This is just a taste of what God has in store for those who love Him. We should learn to love life and Him more." When the end of my life finally comes, just before I take my last nap, I hope the last thing I see is the love for me in the eyes of my people. I hope the last thing I feel is my Mom rubbing my head and my Dad scratching my back. I hope the last thing I do for them is to whisper that I love them and that life is good, keep on living it well, and thanks for giving me such a good one.

This is a very strange thing to report, but Nickolas is back at the small animal hospital at NC State School of Medicine. It has been a long and very weird night. It seems that the pain pill I gave our dog, a dose big enough to knock out a full grown man, didn't do much to our dog but allow him a couple hours of very deep sleep. Diane who had been keeping vigil beside him, out on the deck the whole time wating for him to finally slip away, came to the door to speak to me. I was looking out the door and suddenly Nickolas popped up his head, turned and looked at Diane, then got up and came to the door. She and I just stood there in shock. I opened the door and let him in, and he went immeadiately to his water bowl and slowly drank from it. Then he looked up at us, laid down and went to sleep. A real sleep. Diane and I looked at each other. I had no idea what to do. About an hour earlier, just after we decided to end his suffering, I went out to the coach to get my camera for one last picture. While out there I thought of how empty the coach would be with out Nickolas in it. I lost it and told God just what I thought of my pup dying. I hope the neighbors didn't hear what I was saying, coach walls are not all that thick, but at the moment I was reminding God of his abliity to heal a small dog, of all the prayers that had come from my wife and myself and if nothing else, I still needed Him to get me through this. I looked at Nicolas sleeping peacefully, obvioulsy there was still some life in him and he was not as ready to leave us as it appeared. I just stood there in a kind of stupor and then I told Diane, " That's it, we are going to take him to the animal emergency hospital right now.....grab your purse." I made a phone call to the hospital, told them of our situation and they said bring him in ASAP. We did, and to make a long story short, after a lot of fluid, a pain injection, and blood work and some other things, we took him back to NC State where he is presently in a good but guarded condition. With medication to treat his pancreas, iv fluids, and iv supplements, he has the chance for a surgery free full recovery. What else can I do except thank God. I will keep all of you, the members of my Coach Family posted.

As I write this our precious Nickolas is fading from this world. I gave him the pill that will allow his suffering to end. It is the hardest thing I have ever done, but I had to do it. He has been sick for five days now. He could not hold down any water or food. This thing came on so suddenly. We rushed him to the vet where they could not find the cause. It would take blood work, more needles more pain and maybe even more surgery to even begin to find out what is wrong. . It was impossible to put our loving dog through that again. Something just didn't come out right after the surgery to remove that awful lump from his side. He couldn't control his bladder, he started to loose muscle tone, and he drank water by the cupfuls. We put him on PPA, a very powerful incontinence drug and that seemed to help. For awhile he seemed to make an effort to be his old self, but I could sense he was depressed and he started to fade before our eyes. I prayed constantly for him. I have not had a conversation with God like the ones I have had the last couple of days since my son was born. I almost lost Joel and my wife back then, but God answered a sinner's prayer and because of the combined work of God and the doctors, my son and wife were made well and whole. This time my prayer is not getting the response I hoped for. Nickolas just got worse. Does that mean that God is not listening? Does it mean he doesn't care to exercise just a little bit of His universe creating power to fix my little dog? I can't answer that in words. God is who HE is, faithful to the end. I know that He loves me, my wife, and my dog. Sometimes, in the midst of a tragedy a bigger thing may be happening. Our dog is so, so, sick but once again Nicolas is giving something special to me. He looks me in the eyes and I can see appreciation and love. I know that its there. I cannot make him whole but he trusts me and Diane to look after him. My prayer changed from "God heal him!" to God help me to help him. I will admit that I do not understand why my simple prayer is not given the answer that it asks for, but I have to look to God the same way Nickolas looks at me, with simple trust. That's all I can do. I am grieving, but if I get angry, then I loose more than just my pup; I loose my relationship with The God of the Universe who sent His Son to make things right between the Father and me. This will be Nickolas' last gift to Diane and me. She and I have held hands, held each other, and prayed together with more passion than we had in years. That is surely a good thing. We will rise above this loss, this huge loss. It will not be easy but it is what Nicolas wants us to do. A few minutes ago Nicolas asked to go out into our yard. He layed down in the grass, which is something he never does. I could see him smelling the air, the birds were singing and suddenly there were more of them than usual and Nickolas just watched them fly around him. I think he was saying goodbye to this life. He was preparing himself to leave this earthy place. Right now he is asleep on our deck. Unless God does work a mircle I do not expect Our wonderful dog to wake again. It will be so hard to live without our Coach Buddy, our friend, my wife's shadow, her constant companion. But live we will. So help me God. Goodbye Friend, you were so loved.

If your chassis battery is good and fully charged the Trik-l-start will not go into charge or maintaining mode so no lights at all. I had the same thing happen with mine. I had a chassis battery with a bad cell, and the TLS would light up but once I replaced the battery it has not lite up since. I did check it by "faking" a low charge by connecting the TLS to one six volt house battery. The charge light came on.

Thanks Todd. Just to update eveyone, Nickolas's medication, which is a minor dose of PPA, seems to be working. He still drinks a lot of water but he is holding it. He still can't make it through the night but he lets us know he wants to go out. That's okay, I can't sleep through the whole night anyway. Derrick

I know someone must be asking that question. I have asked it myself. I don't have a good answer. The bad answer is that there have been lots of distractions the last few weeks. The first distraction being caused by the need to look after a pup named Nickolas. Diane and I decided to subject him to some pretty extensive surgery that, thank the Lord, appears to be mostly successful. He is missing part of three ribs, some chest wall and a big malignant lump on his side. I have been amazed at how quickly he has recovered. However, a problem still remains. The shock of surgery seems to have made an old dog older. Since coming out of recovery he has an extreme thirst, and as a result of that, well, he doesn't always make it outside on time, and he can't make it through the night at all without waking up wet the next morning. That has required us to put him to bed wearing some special waterproof doggy jockey shorts. Nickolas doesn't like the idea that he is wearing diapers, so we don't use that word around him if we can help it. Our pupster looked awful after surgery. His back and side were shaved and he had staples running from his belly to his back. People looking at him just cringed. When I looked at him, I just hurt. We lived full-time in the coach for almost 10 days at Deer Creek after he came home. He spent four days at NC State School of Veterinary Medicine in Raleigh, North Carolina. We needed to keep him in a confined space. No, running, no jumping and no climbing stairs was allowed. He went in and out of the coach on a portable ramp. It was not fun for him or us. Things improved rapidly and he received a good report on his last visit to the vet school, which took place on our way home from Galax. We spent the night in the State Fairground campground. We were all alone in that huge place. It was just across the street from the school, so staying there could not have been more convenient. Since coming back to our stick house, things have been very busy. Lots of phone work and customer service calls (nothing new there). We have also had to make lots of follow-up calls to vets, trying to cure our dog's incontinence problem. Now we are looking at the possibility of Cushing's disease, or Addison's disease or diabetes or maybe just old age. No one knows for sure, even after a lot of blood work, urinalysis and other things that keep draining funds from our retirement account. Poor Nickolas remains in an agitated state, never knowing when the leash being clipped on means that the car will take him to some location where unpleasant things happen. I have a theory that Nickolas needs to be left alone. Let him get over the loss of ribs, muscle, and having a lot of pain and confusion. Treat him like a normal dog and he will heal himself. No one really liked my theory, for awhile. Finally the decision was made to treat his "leaking" problem with drugs and see how that goes. We have a FMCA international rally to attend this weekend. It is the Workhorse Chassis Motor Club rally and I am the host and rallymaster. I have been working on this rally for over a year and I know that Nickolas is looking forward to it as much as I am. The rally takes place at Camp Hatteras in Waves, N.C. Nickolas loves a good romp on the beach and, by golly, I'm going to see to it that he gets one. He has comtributed so much to our lives. The whole point of his surgery was to try to make Nickolas' life last a lot longer. I am praying that his life continues to be a good one. I owe Nickolas at least that much. Gramps

8/18/2010 We are back in our stick house in Portsmouth. Nickolas is doing very well, and who knows, he might just post his own update sometime soon. I did install the new Wifi transmitter at the resort. It works quite well. Not long after a conversation I had with the manufacturer of the access point, they added client isolation. Now that is good customer response!

I sure am glad to see the site back online. I missed it.

When I write a blog entry about a current trip in our coach, I tend to just write it in a matter of fact style, like the following: Well a lot has happened in the last week. Diane and I hosted an FMCA chapter rally at the Deer Creek RV Resort in Galax, Virginia during the last weekend of July. The campground Is located just across the golf course from our home at the Deer Creek Motorcoach resort. Some people call the golf course Derrick's Nine Holes, because I am the person who plays there the most. We had fifteen coaches from the Colonial Virginians show up for the rally. The rally went great, for the most part. We arrived on Wednesday evening and our fellow Colonial Virginians started arriving on Thursday afternoon. Thursday morning Diane and I did a lot of shopping at the local Wal-Mart (where else would we go?) for lots of stuff to provide a full meal for everyone on Friday night. We left the store with hamburgers, hot dogs, sausages, potato salad, cole slaw, baked beans, cookies and a lemon cake. Our co-hosts Bob and Stephanie planned breakfast for Saturday and Sunday Mornings. For Saturday morning breakfast, we had French toast sticks, pancakes, sausage, and fruit. Sunday was a continental breakfast with Danish, Bagels and Saturday's breakfast leftovers. Saturday night everyone went to a wine and cheese party at the Deer Creek Motorcoach Resort (Not the one in Florida) clubhouse. That was followed by a pot-luck supper. We had a golf tournament planned for Saturday Morning but due to drizzle and fog we had to cancel. Those who planned on playing didn't mind. We all enjoyed the cool mountain weather, which was a nice change from the terrible heat back home. Not much emotion or story in the above. Let me try to add some of that for you. I have been working pretty hard lately. No days off for some six weeks and that includes July fourth. Even with all those work days I have still been under quite a bit of stress to get it all my projects done. I know, that seems to be a recurring theme in my blogs: Stress. It seems to be the nature of my business and my nature to let stress sometimes get the best of me. I am working on correcting that. I would like to save the best of myself for my God, my dear wife, my kids, my rving friends as well as other friends and of course, my dog. Unfortunately there wasn't much of the best part of me on the day we left for the rally. We pulled out a bit late in the morning, and just as we hit the road I discovered, actually Diane informed me, that she turned off the fridge because it was alarming. There was no propane flowing to it, even though our tank was full. At the same time I discovered that the dash air was not cooling. These two problems started to make me hot. I asked her why she didn't tell me this before we left. She said she didn't want to bother me, I was getting customer calls all morning and she didn't want to add to my problems. Add to my problems? No dash air, the propane is not working? How could that add to my problems? I knew that the immediate, but temporary solution to this was to turn on the generator. This would allow us to run the fridge and the roof air, but all I could think about is how much is this going to cost me to get these problems fixed? I stared to over think this situation and this fueled my soon to get worse state of mind. After all it was going to be one of the hottest days of the year with no dash ac. I just got back from a long trip to Elkhart to fix the slide and now two more problems. When will it end? Maybe my blood sugar was low from skipping breakfast. Maybe I was just worn out from all the work pulling cables through hot fiberglass insulated ceilings for days on end. Maybe it was because this has been a tough year to find work, get it done and then get paid for it. Maybe it was because I was worried about our dog, who was scheduled for surgery the Friday after the rally. Maybe it was all the above. I lost it. I ranted about my business, the coach, and only God knows for most of the drive to Galax. Diane, bless her heart, just sat there and hardly said a word. She just let me vent. I don't remember most of what I said. I am sure it wouldn't be worth repeating anyway. When we started to climb I-77 just north of Winston-Salem, North Carolina, I finally calmed down. I looked over at Diane and apologized for being such a jerk. She had tears running down her cheeks and she managed to mouth the words, "its okay" to me. I didn't say another word until we reached the gate to the Motorcoach Resort. Diane pushed the remote, the gate opened, we drove through and it was like a switch was thrown. I started to feel better. We set up "camp". It was after six thirty by the time we finished. We went to dinner with our neighbors Judy and Gordy. They both noticed that I was looking a bit ragged, and Diane calmly told them I had been working hard lately, to put it mildly. For most of the night I lay awake thinking about the day's drive. The next morning I was swamped with phone calls from multiple offices belonging to one customer. Diane and I were at the Wal-Mart at the time, I was shopping for golf balls when the first call hit me. The problem was not with my equipment, it was with their internet provider. I told them that, but they wanted me to take care of it because they didn't know how to talk to the great big nasty internet company. It took me until eleven pm that night making phone calls, but I did get the ball rolling to solve the problem for them. Friday I was determined to give all my attention to the rally. I managed to do that. I helped people check in, set up tables, did a bit of decorating, set up a sun canopy and my grill. I cooked forty some hamburgers while Bob did the dogs. We had a great meal for everyone. The food was good and the service was quick. Afterwards we talked about the golf and mini golf match, and reminded everyone where Saturday's meal would be served. I was beat and left for the coach while Diane played tiles. Saturday's breakfast was great. Saturday's weather wasn't. It rained all day. Actually I think it rained the next three days off and on. I wanted to have the golf match but what's a little rain when you are in the Blue Ridge Mountains? We all made the best of it. Some people went sightseeing; some just sat around and talked. I sat around and listened to the people chat. I wanted to be reminded that the world isn't just about me. That is one of the ways owning a coach has improved my life, by allowing me to be involved in other lives outside of work. It's like medicine to me. I need to remember that. Saturday night we had the wine and cheese party. I answered questions about Galax and the surrounding area. I also answered questions about the resort. After dinner I provided some minor entertainment. I told them all about my FMCA blog with its rules for owning a motor coach and then I read rule four to them. I will remind you that rule four is "Owing a motor coach is a never ending learning experience". Rule four also includes a bunch of one liner, truisms, that some people find quite funny. Fortunately all the guests at dinner did the same. Sunday morning was foggy but not for long. By noon most everyone had left. Everyone said they had a great time and hoped to return next year. Monday, August second, was my fifty seventh birthday. The best thing about it was that I wasn't working. We didn't do much that day but sit around the coach, do a bit of walking, and we went to dinner in town. The food wasn't all that good but the company was great. The next day Diane and I drove into Sparta North Carolina and found something that we both liked. A store with Columbia clothes on sale for half price. I bought a bunch of nice things. We came home and ate leftover hamburgers, watched a bit of TV and called it a day. Wednesday had a different feel about it. Diane wanted to do laundry and clean up the coach a bit. She planned on leaving the next day for Raleigh, NC to stay with her cousin Elaine. From there she would take Nickolas to the NC State School of Veterinary Medicine. Nickolas was scheduled to have a malignant tumor removed from his side. This could be an extensive operation with loss of some chest wall and some sections of ribs. I planned on staying behind to work on the Motorcoach resort's WIFI. That was okay by me considering how much I dislike hospital waiting rooms. I had already ordered a new high powered access point that hopefully would broadcast to the fartest end of the resort. Diane left with Nickolas just after lunch, so I found myself all alone. I made arrangements to borrow an extension ladder and so just after Diane left I was at the top of it mounting the new transmitter. All was going okay until a big thunderstorm came out of nowhere. Lightening chased me off the ladder. The rain started coming down in buckets and then we lost power. I managed to mount the transmitter but without power I was done. My WI-FI install would have to wait. Fridays are usually pretty quiet for me. Not many phone calls. The Friday of Nickolas surgery was no exception. This was a good thing. I wasn't in the mood to talk much anyway. I thought our pup was going to be in the OR early, but it didn't happen until six that night. He came out around nine. Diane called me to say that everything went well. The doctors wanted to keep him there until Monday. My time in isolation would be a bit longer than expected. I didn't do much the next two days. I finished a book, watched some movies, made some minor repairs to the coach roof and unstopped the propane line. That was about it. Diane and Nickolas arrived back here at Deer Creek about two hours ago. The poor pup looks a bit scarred and stapled but he is doing well considering. We will be here a few more days. We need to give the dog a bit more time to recuperate before we head back to the heat in Tidewater. Once we get there its back to business, the coach will stay parked for a couple more months. I do need to get some Freon for the dash AC. Didn't I mention that? According to our resident RV doctor, there is nothing wrong with the dash AC that a good dose of Freon can't fix. It seems I got upset over almost nothing. I am working on that.

Hey Todd, Not that I remember. Some parents did video some games, as a matter of fact I have footage of Joel pitching that I have not looked at for a long time. I found the the old score pad for this game in old file cabinet in our garage. Diane had marked every pitch, and every out with notes about the plays. Joel and I just reviewed each inning. Between the two of us we relived the whole game and I wrote it down.

It was an amazingly (is that a word?) fun thing to watch that ball zoom over the fence, but I, we, still have a game to win. The Last Inning (The Giants and the Phillies-Part Two) Once again, I have to corral all my players back into the dugout. They are still whooping and hollering and Chris is really pleased with himself. "Did you see that coach, did you see that? Blam! Right over the fence. Sorry I hit your van, coach." I hadn't noticed that the ball bounced off MY car! "Hey, that's okay," I said. "I'm just glad that you hit it out of the park, it was great. Now take a seat and let's win this game." Chris ducks inside of the dugout, but before he sits down he grabs the wire fence, gives it a good shake like a caged animal and yells at the Giant's pitcher. "Hey Pitch! That's what you get for laughing at me!" The whole park hears that outburst. I can't let that go, so I turn around. "That is not necessary, Chris. We don't gloat. It is not good sportsmanship. You will apologize to the pitcher now." "Sorry Pitch!" Chris yells again. "Coach, you need to get your team under control!" "No problem Blue, I am taking care of it." I ask myself, "What is the ump's problem? He seems to be a bit slow today." "Chris, after the game you make sure you shake the Pitcher's hand. Understand?" Chris, looking a bit deflated, sits down. The ump walks over and hands something to Chris. It is the home run ball. "Great hit, kid." Chris's face lights up. "Thanks, Ump!" The ump nods and says "Batter up!" I send Jeffery to the plate and tell him to go get a hit. Jeffery, grinning, jogs over to the batter's box. "Play Ball!" yells the ump as he pulls down his mask. Jeffery stands there and takes six pitches, three are strikes, without moving his bat a bit. Bottom of the fifth Phillies 8, Giants 2 I do not want to let my team relax too much. This is Little League. Earlier in the season the Cubs scored seven runs on us in the top of the first. We beat them 20 to seven. We could have scored more if the 13-run mercy rule had not stopped us. Things can happen, so I just want to shut the Giants down and end this. As Joel heads out to the mound I tell him to keep on pitching the same way he's been doing it. He nods at me. The Giants leadoff is a big lefthander. Joel throws the first pitch a bit outside, and the batter fouls it back. Joel throws to the same spot. This time the kid looks at it. Ball one. Chris, who is now catching for Joel, shifts and gives Joel an inside target. Joel throws; the batter swings and takes it for a base hit over CJ's head to right-center field. Both Jeffery and Ian make a mad dash for the ball. I swear, because they argue over who is going to get it. By the time they figure it out, the runner is way past first. Ian tosses to CJ, who turns toward third, but there is no play. The leadoff is safely on third. "Shake it off Joel, no big deal, just get the batter!" Giving up a triple does not faze Joel. He throws his next three pitches for strikes. The batter goes down looking at the third one. One down and two to go. Play is at first but we have to guard the plate. The next batter goes for the first pitch. He hits a high pop over the first base line. Chris is on his feet in a second, follows the ball and catches it in front of the bleachers. He turns and looks at the third base runner. Two outs and one to go. I don't know how Joel is doing it, but he bears down and throws three hard inside fastballs. He makes the batter look like a deer caught in the headlights. Three pitches, three strikes, backwards K. The Inning is over. That triple was the best hit the Giants have had all day and Joel made sure it counted for nothing. Top of the Sixth The Score is still Phillies 8, Giants 2. Shawn leads off. He fouls the first pitch (good for him!) and then takes four straight pitches, all balls. Jonathan is up next. First pitch is a ball, second pitch outside for ball two. The third pitch hits my batter right in the helmet. It doesn't bug him a bit as he jogs happily to first. The pitcher and Zac get into a bit of battle. Zac fouls off the first two. The pitcher throws two for two balls. Zac fouls off another one and the pitcher heaves two more pitching errors. Zac heads to first. WC virtually repeats Zac's at bat and earns a walk with no place to put him. Shawn comes home. Phillies 9, Giants 2 TJ walks on five pitches, and Jonathan scores run number 10. Ian, well Ian just stands there and swings and misses the last pitch he gets, the third one. The Giants have one out on us. They are now facing the top of our order with bases loaded. Not good for them. Not good at all. The Giants pitcher knows things are not good and that knowledge must make him really nervous. His first pitch hits Matt in the side, and he reaches first as Zac crosses home plate. Phillies 11, Giants 2. Matt is on first, TJ on second and good ole WC on third. CJ, who is on deck, moves to the plate. I am standing behind the backstop just in front of the first base side dugout. I can see WC on third base and I am watching him and my other runners. They are set and ready to run on contact. CJ can hit and I know he wants this one bad. He fouls the first pitch. He hits the second one to the outfield past first base but it lands foul. Everyone on my side of the field is yelling so loud it hurts my ears. The next throw is in the dirt. The catcher scrambles for the ball. The pitcher runs in to cover the plate. My third base coach is waving WC home, but he hesitates. What is he waiting for? Run! WC breaks for home but that seconds hesitation may cost him. The catcher throws the ball to the pitcher, who steps in front of the plate just as WC runs into him. They go down together. The pitcher comes up showing the ball. "He's out!" Yells blue. WC gets up and starts arguing with the ump. "He was holding me!" I walk over as my third base coach comes running in, grabs the umpire and points back to the Giant on third base. "Ump, he grabbed my runner's shirt! WC would have been safe!" The Giants coach is now out of his dugout and we have a real "situation" here. "Come on, Ump, this is crazy." My base coach is not going to take this. "Ump, I am telling you. My guy was interfered with." The Ump looks at everyone. "I didn't see it. The runner's out!" WC looks very unhappy. He pulls off his helmet and tosses it toward third base. The Ump takes one look at that and tosses him out of the game for unsportsmanlike conduct. My base coach just shakes his head. My parents and players are booing the umpire. I tell everyone on the bench we still have one out left and the bases are loaded. I tell WC that he did great the whole game, but he should not throw his helmet or his bat. He tells me he is sorry. I was feeling bad about the Giants situation, but after treating WC like that, I have lost my sympathy. First base is open, with two outs. I grab CJ. "Look, it's 1 and 2, with two outs. Get on first anyway you can." "You got it, Coach." CJ is a team player. I know he wants the big home run, but now he settles down to business. The pitcher doesn't. He throws four straight balls. CJ is on first, bases are loaded again. "Way to watch em CJ!" Joel is up. He wants to round the bases and he will wait for the pitcher to make a mistake again. It is a battle, but Joel has the first pitch advantage. It is a ball way outside. The second one Joel fouls off. He fouls off the third. The count is 1 and 2. The fourth pitch comes in, low and inside, ball two. Joel steps out of the box. He adjusts his gloves, takes a couple of swings and steps back in. Here comes the pitch, way high for Ball three. The Giants coach calls time. His pitcher walks over to the base path. I can't hear what is being said but both the coach and his player look agitated. They don't want another walk, they only need one out, so they need to put the ball in play and get the easy out. Here we are again, 3 and 2. Pitcher throws and Joel fouls it. Pitcher throws again, same result. The tension is thick in the air, spectators on both sides are yelling to their players. Everyone is on the edge of their seats, waiting for the next pitch. This game is really fun. My son is up to bat. What could be better than that? The next pitch is slow and hangs over the plate. Joel hits it and runs for first. My base runners take off at the same time. It is a long, slow fly into left right field. It lands between the two outfielders; both are running for the ball. By the time they get there Joel is halfway to second base. TJ crosses home plate. The Giants second baseman is frozen on the base path. Joel pushes him out of the way and crosses second. Matt, between second and third, needs to pick it up or Joel is going to run into him and CJ. I see the throw coming in as the second baseman wakes up. He takes a couple of steps into the outfield to catch it. Joel is almost at third. Matt and CJ make it home. My players start pouring out of the dugout. The Giants bench is yelling to the infield. "Throw it home! Throw it home!" Joel rounds third. He might not make it! The throw comes in but it is way too high. It sails over the catcher's head. The Phillies rush home plate and surround Joel as he crosses it. The folks in the bleachers are jumping up and down. The guys practically carry Joel off the field. Phillies 15, Giants 2. We have a 13-run lead. Mercy Rule is in effect. The game is over. Not quite yet. The Giants coach rushes out of the dugout yelling at his catcher, who has retrieved the ball, to tag the plate. He is claiming Joel didn't touch home. Joel says he did. Joel's team was all around him, so I couldn't see the plate at all. The Ump just stands there. "Blue, I'm telling you he didn't touch the plate." says the Giants coach. I am thinking that I would never pull this kind of stunt on his team. There is no way that the ump is going to call out a kid who just scored an inside the park grand slam. "Runner's out!" The Ump yells. "Come on Ump, he ran all over that plate and everybody knows it!" My third base coach is getting mad. The Ump has made his call. "Play Ball!" Back in the dugout I lean down to Joel. "You did step on the plate didn't you?" "Yea coach, I did. I know I got a home run ... but its okay, we are having fun, let's just play ball." "So what you are saying is; let's give them one more at bat and show em what we are made of?" "Yea, coach, we don't let up, Joel will get em!" says Matt. I am very proud of my team and we are having fun. What could be better than that? "Okay. Phillies hit the field!" They run out of the dugout with a yell. A couple of parents come over to me, including Diane. I walk with them back to the bleachers and shrug my shoulders at the parents. "Hey coach, what are going to do about that?" one father asks me. "Nothing, the guys want to keep playing." They did. With his team yelling the whole time and the Phillies fans adding to the noise, Joel worked three Giants batters, including two from the top of the order, to a 2 and 2 count before he struck them all out. The last two went down without swinging. With the last out the team gives Joel a hugh cheer. The game between the Giants and the Philles is now officially over. Phillies win 14 to 2. The scorekeeper from the Giants walks over to Diane to compare scores. Diane looks at him. "I don't know how you are scoring it, but my son got a grand slam." "Yeah, he did and he also got three up and three down, quite a kid you have there." "Thank you" is her smiling response. Joel got his grand slam (off the record), and Chris got his big home run. I coached a game that, obviously, I would never forget. Years later, a few days after Joel was graduated from William and Mary, Diane, Joel, Nickolas and myself were staying in our motor coach at the Stone Mountain RV Resort outside Atlanta, Georgia. One day, during our stay, at around 5 p.m. Joel and I were sitting just above first base at Turner Stadium (named for my old boss) in Atlanta. We were watching the Braves take on the Florida Marlins. It wasn't a very exciting game but it was a beautiful June night. Like that time from years before, I was at a baseball game with my son. We were having fun. What could be better than that?

In a word...yes!

You know what someone once said: "Motor coaching is a never-ending learning experience."

Me too Todd. He has helped us get through a lot of stones that get tossed our way, and not just kidney ones.

Nickolas, the family pupster here! I asked Dad if he would let me post again. Last time, I hijacked his blog and posted on the sly. This time he said okay. I wanted to leave him and Mom a note. They may need what I write here one day. I am almost 85 years old now, in relative terms, and so I can say that chances are I have a little bit of time left, but only a little. I don't worry about the end of my life. Mom and Dad do that for me. They comment on how white my face is compared to how it used to look. They talk about how slow I am to get up from my nap in front of the TV. They don't like for me to wear myself out going up and down the coach steps. They concern themselves with how hot I am, because I pant a lot. Mom bought me this slick blue water-filled pad to help keep me cool. I am not crazy about it but I sleep on it, and that makes her feel better even if it doesn't do much for me. They really worry about a tumor that is growing on my left side. They talk about how much they hope it isn't cancer, but if it is, what they can do about it? Mom and Dad, especially Dad, could stand to learn a bit about life from me. Like I said, I don't worry. I don't worry about that lump or much of anything else. I don't give much thought to the squirrels that I can't chase around the back yard anymore. Actually, I never worried about them when I was younger, either. The moment one takes off up a tree, that's it for me. I find something else to think about-like breakfast. I can say for sure that life is far too short to spend time worrying about anything, except dinner. I love both of my people a lot. They have always given me a good life. I still have a good life even if things are changing. I can't hear much of anything anymore. I used to hear the brakes on Dad's old truck three blocks away. Mom was always amazed when I went to the door to wait for him, long before he pulled up in front of the house. Now I am sometimes surprised by him at the door instead of the other way around. But that is okay. I still follow him to his office desk, furiously wagging my tail, and he never fails to give my back a good scratch. Sometimes Dad is so tense when he gets home at the end of the day. I know it is my job to do something to help him, so giving the dog a good back scratching does as much, if not more, for Dad as it does for me. There was a time when Dad and Mom were saying something about Dad having a kidney stone. Dad was in pretty bad shape. I saw him on his knees next to his bed. He was sweating and moaning. The pain was so intense that Dad was starting to panic. I jumped up on the bed to be near him. I kissed his nose and then lay down. He put his hands on me and buried his face in my side. I did what I was supposed to do, I soaked up his pain. It took a little while but Dad calmed down and I could sense that he started to feel a bit better. I usually stick close to Mom, but Dad needed me, so I stayed right there with him for the rest of the day. During our last trip out in our coach (I like to call it the Bus) Mom and Dad watched this movie about a person who helps to heal horses. This person is called a horse whisperer. Dad says that I am a Human Whisperer. I am not sure what that means, but if being a Human Whisperer means being there for my people, reminding them that life should be lived mostly in the present and that love and kindness are what keeps us going, then that is what I am. I love my people. They are like gods to me. They are bigger and stronger than me and I trust them to look after me. I hope my love for them is a reminder that there is a greater power that is stronger and bigger than they are who loves them, too. I think it does. Many years ago we were on a camping trip, in a tent; this was before we got our fancy bus. It was a beautiful fall day and Dad grilled T-bone steaks for their dinner. The smell was great. I knew that they would share the best part of these wonderful smelling things with me. They would give me the bones. I was so excited to get one. Dad looked at me, happily chomping away, and then he looked at the mountains around us and the woods with all its bright colors. "This is just a bone," he said. "What?" Mom asked. "What are you talking about?" "This life and this world is just a bone" Dad said."This is just a taste of what God has in store for those who love Him. We should learn to love life and Him more." When the end of my life finally comes, just before I take my last nap, I hope the last thing I see is the love for me in the eyes of my people. I hope the last thing I feel is my Mom rubbing my head and my Dad scratching my back. I hope the last thing I do for them is to whisper that I love them and that life is good, keep on living it well, and thanks for giving me such a good one. Nickolas

Another good reason to use a good surge protector.

Brad,, Nice to have a new blogger on board. I look forward to more. Gramps

I am trying to move in the opposite direction. I want to set my stuff free....or free me from my stuff if you prefer. We still have one bird in the nest whoose nestegg is growing and thoughts of buying a house are in his head. Once he is out, who knows, maybe we can stuff what we need in one motorhome and go hit the road for a very long time. Enjoy your new "castle" in South Texas you two!

It's been awhile since I blogged and a lot has happened since the 23rd of May or whenever it was since I last posted. I say a lot has happened, but not really. Diane, Nickolas and myself traveled to our spot at Deer Creek Motorcoach resort, the one in Galax, Virginia, not Florida. Barry, the owner and developer, asked me to point that out. While there, I did my best to improve my golf game and beef up our Wi-Fi. The golfing was fun ... more about that later. A bit about our Wi-Fi. It is not an easy thing to do, cover an area the size of a driving range, which is what Deer Creek used to be, and allow owners to log on from inside their coaches. Most stock Wi-Fi devices, be it a router or access point (it's a bit complicated to explain the difference), cover a 100-foot radius well. I am not trying to cover a radius at Deer Creek. I am trying to project the signal in a half circle uphill with some coaches sitting higher than the one in front of it. In a few spots a coach blocks the line of sight of the coach behind it to the Wi-Fi router. I fixed this by adding a third access point with a high gain antenna on the roof of the clubhouse. This plugged my coverage holes, but still I need a bit more punch to get to the far corners of the resort. That will be fixed by adding an inline antenna amplifier to the mix. That will be taken care of during our next trip out there. As well as making a change to beef up "Internal security." Let's talk about public Wi-Fi for just a minute. A lot of RV parks, including the one next to Deer Creek Motorcoach resort, offer free Wi-Fi. Some of these networks are unsecured, meaning you don't have to have a password, or network key, as it sometimes called, to get onto it. If it does require a security key, the only thing that key does is keep some people without one from getting onto it. Let me tell you something else that the key may not do. It will not protect you from other people in the campground, or at some other public Wi-Fi who are logged on with you. Public Wi-Fi works a bit on the honor system. You could be sitting at a restaurant logged on to a hotspot with an encryption key and thinking you are as safe as if you were on your home network. However, the person two tables over could be looking through your files. You see, if you have your computer set up to share a printer and or files, you could be exposed. You should turn off printer and file sharing when you don't know if you are connected to a network with client security. Vista and Windows 7 will ask if you are connecting to a public hotspot and will turn that feature off if you tell it to. Xp also will let you turn off file and printer sharing, but you have to know where to go to do that. I know what most of you are thinking: I don't use file and printer sharing, and I renamed my Windows workgroup, so that helps secure me also. The first part is mostly correct. The second part isn't. Renaming your workgroup to something else doesn't help at all. Renaming only hides computers near you from showing up in a certain screen and keeps you from showing up on other XP computers. But, and this is important, if you know where to look other users still can be found. The connection is still there. It comes down to this. Most public hotspots are provided by the use of small, inexpensive routers and access points, most of which do not provide isolation from one user to another and it is up to you to look after yourself. If you have a network in your coach with multiple users, it becomes a bit harder to do this. If you disable printer and file sharing, your laptop will no longer talk to your desktop, or you and your spouse can't communicate, and your laptops won't communicate to each other. To fix that you may need to get your own wireless router and set it up to repeat the public signal. That way you stay logged on to your own network and you can isolate it from the rest of the RV park. RV parks spend more time trying to get coverage and keep unwanted people off their WI-FI network as opposed to trying to protect their guests from each other. Remember this: When it comes to public Wi-Fi you have to look after yourself. Maybe that should be a rule!

It has been a year, this week, since I started blogging here at FMCA.com. Boy, time sure flies when you are having stress. I have had a boat load of just that over the last year, I am talking about stress. It started building up more than usual around Christmas 2008 after I realized something was physically very wrong with Mike, my friend and business partner. By late March he was gone. Many of you know the story. He "passed over," to use that innocuous phrase, just after our trip to the FMCA convention in Perry, Georgia. After the rally we traveled on down to Florida to visit my daughter, her husband and new son. It was a good thing that I was away with family when Mike died. I don't think I could have handled witnessing Mike's last few moments alive in the hospital. During some of our last phone conversations, it was usually me who broke down and cried. Mike didn't care for that at all. He was always joking and kept telling me that he would be okay. I couldn't figure out if he was trying to reassure me or if he was just in denial. I guess it was a bit of both. I didn't want to loose him. We had been friends for twenty years. I didn't like looking at what my future would be without him. It didn't look good to me all. I was partially right. It hasn't been all good so far, but it could have been a whole lot worse if not for this site. On March first of last year I stumbled upon the FMCA forums. I joined and wrote some kind of blurb introducing Diane and myself. The next thing I knew I had an e-mail asking if we would take a profile survey, which we did. Not long after that, we were on the home page in the Meet the Member feature. I didn't realize at the time that this was a rather new Web site and it, just like my motorhome, was about to improve my life in many ways. That brings me to the purpose of this one-year blog entry. To say thanks. I want to thank Todd of the FMCA.com staff for making this blog and the good things it has done possible. I want to thank Gary and Janis, who googled "38PLT UFO," found our FMCA profile, made a phone call, and soon became great close friends. They have helped me make it through this last year. Diane and I wouldn' know what to do without you. I would also like to take this time to remind all my friends here of my Five Rules for Owning a Motor Coach. It never hurts to have a review. 1. Owning a motor coach improves one's life ... if you let it. 2. Keep your temper on a very short leash, because when you own a motor coach patience is not only a virtue but a necessity. 3. Enjoy the view! Don't be in a hurry to get there, wherever there is. It isn't just the destination that matters; the journey is good for you, too. 4. Owning a motor coach is a never-ending learning experience. 5. Always remember rule number one. These rules are important. Forgetting them has consequences, and they are not pleasant ones. All of the rules have a flip side. A motorhome can make you miserable ... if you let it. If you don't keep your temper on a short leash, what do you think will happen? I threw a walkie-talkie against my garage door once. Don't ask why. I will tell you that I remember that display of behavior every time I use that scratched-up radio. I was able to put it back together after it flew apart. I learned from that experience. If I quit learning, I will just make more mistakes. If you have not read my archived entries about these rules why not take the time to do so? You might just learn something about yourself in the process. In closing, I have enjoyed my year here. I hope that all my readers, however many, have gotten something positive from my little blog. Thanks for viewing. There will be more. Derrick AKA "Gramps"

Click on any thumbnail above to see a lot more pictures! Gary, Janis, Diane and I are good friends. We travel together and we both own the same coach. It is a Holiday Rambler Vacationer XL, model 38PLT built on the Workhorse UFO chassis. The UFO has the engine in the rear and it is gas not diesel. We get a lot of comments when we pull into a campground together or separately. For example: "Man, your coach sure is quiet, what's wrong with it?" (Nothing) "Well, it sure is a funny sounding Diesel." (That's because it isn't a diesel, it's a gas pusher.) "No Way! Nobody makes one of those!" (Well, Holiday Rambler made mine.) "Are you sure it's gas?" (Well, it was the last time I filled the tank.) "Man I have never seen one of these going down the road." (You may have, you just didn't know it.) "That's crazy, a gas pusher? Where's the engine in it?" (Ahhh...I think it's in the rear.) Is this that UFO thing I have heard about? (Why, yes it is!) "What is a UFO anyway?" (It is a diesel coach that runs on gas.) Jeff Daniels says "Always remember and never forget; you're not a real American till you've been behind the wheel of a Recreational Vehicle." I agree with that but let me add this: People sure think you are an odd American when you tell them your Recreational Vehicle's gas engine is in the rear. Even the techs in Elkhart thought we were an unusual group of coach travelers. Personally, I think one of our coaches should be in the Elkhart RV Hall of Fame one day. We have been there and I know just where they can park it. Better Than New! Pilgrimage to Elkhart Days 5 and 6 Tuesday morning came early. It was cloudy and cold. Gary and I had our coaches ready for their short trip to the service bays by seven twenty. Roger and Walt were there to pick them up ten minutes later. We told the guys how pleased we were with their work so far. I asked Roger if he would repair the second hole in the bathroom floor, and he said he would. He had cut a piece of vinyl from the floor inside the plumbing compartment next to the washer dryer to fix the first rip. That was a small square. He wanted to replace a whole section this time. I felt sure he could figure out something. I also added recalibrating my leveling system, and would they please inspect the roof (another thing I forgot to tell them the day before. It seems I misplaced my list and was going from memory). Walt told us that Ed from BAL still had some work to do on the slide outs and that Tim Belle the tech support manager wanted to meet with us in about an hour. I had had a number of very helpful phone conversations with Tim and was looking forward to meeting him in person. Roger hopped into the drive's seat. I asked him what he thought of the UFO chassis. "Yesterday I almost started it twice. I noticed that the tack was moving so I didn't, it's just amazing how quiet it is." He said I told Roger that I often turn up the rear camera microphone to listen to the engine. I have almost started the engine twice myself. I can only imagine what kind of terrible grinding noise that would cause. I hope I never hear it. Our rigs were moved back over to the service bays. I informed the ladies they would have to wait in the car, if they didn't want to wait inside because we needed to meet with JD and Tim and I wanted to take some pictures as well. That was all right with them. Gary and I walked over to the shop to see JD Adams, the manager of ESC. JD had talked to us both on the phone and I meet him briefly the morning before. He met us in the shop and introduced us to Rod and Mike, whom we had not met yet. We then went into Gary's coach where Ed from BAL was hard at work on Gary's main slide out. We chatted with him and with the other guys until Tim arrived. Tim told us what they had done so far which included installing new cables, all new standoffs (the bracket on the outside of the slide out that the cable attaches to.) and most important a bigger high torque motor that would move the big slide out much faster. What they planned to do today was change the seals on the outside. We told him how much we appreciated it. Walt had some questions about repairing Gary's basement door, and Roger had already started repairing my bathroom floor. I could have hovered around there for a long time watching these guys work. It is easy for me to loose track of time when I am with a bunch of technical guys. With my wife and the dog just sitting in the car on a cold morning; I could loose enough time to get myself in trouble. I suggested to Gary we take pictures and then rescue the ladies. We took pictures and then rescued the ladies. Diane was sitting and shivering with the car engine running. She was looking more than a little cold. "You okay?" "Yeeesss," she said with chattering teeth. "Can we get going now?" "Sure, the museum doesn't open until ten anyway so we would have just been sitting there." "I'm okay." I was relieved to see she wasn't obviously upset with me. Just before we pulled out, our neighbor from Quebec pulled in, truck and trailer. I didn't even notice he was gone. Before he could get more than a few feet off the road his truck died. He had pulled his fifth wheel around to the other side of the service building to fill his water tank. Well, Gary and I couldn't just leave him stranded like that so we spent the next fifteen minutes trying to jump his truck and get it moving again. We started it, but it wouldn't run long. He had to unhitch the trailer and move the truck to where he could plug in a trickle charger. That was the best we could do for him, so we headed off for the Elkhart RV/MH Hall of Fame Museum and Conference Center. Just for your information the MH stands for Manufactured Housing not motorhome. When it came to sightseeing in Elkhart, this was the highlight of the whole trip. We were the first people through the door that morning. JD had given us three free passes and we expected to pay for one ticket but the two gentlemen curator/guides who met us at the door said that would not be necessary. We signed the visitor's registry and the self guided tour began. The museum is divided into four main halls. One is the supplier's hall, the Go RVing hall which has new rigs on display and the RV Founders and Ingram Halls which have a fantastic collection of antique housecars and house trailers. Diane and I visited the supplier's hall first. There we found displays of towing equipment, RV appliances, including some that are also residential, along with displays from RV clubs and campgrounds. There was also one from Workhorse. It was a display of the UFO chassis. Of course I had to gravitate toward it. There was a video that I watched that showed some of the first people who drove the chassis and the first owners. I found it fascinating. I had to tell Diane about it so I went to get her. She walked over, looked at the video for about ten seconds. "That's nice" she said. "Let's go look for Gary and Janis." Feeling somewhat deflated, I followed her to the Go RVing hall. I walked past everything and went straight to the Damon Avanti that was parked near the front window. It is a small Class A with Euro Styling and is powered by a front engine Navistar diesel engine. Nice rig, but we didn't look at it for long. Next we visited the Founders Hall. I was amazed at the assortment of Motor Houses. I looked at the older towables but I really wanted to spend more time looking at the motorized rvs. I was impressed the most by the Mae West Mobile and the Tennessee Traveler with its pot bellied "furnace". I know that most of us are used to a lot of comfort. I have to wonder what earlier House Car-ers, who drove with their backsides resting on wooden benches would think of our plush seats and air ride. I bet they would think we are all a bunch of motor homing weenies. We left the museum sometime around twelve thirty. I remember because I took a phone call just before we left and I noted the time. It was the only one I had the whole day. A miracle! Our next stop was Das Dutchman Essenhaus in Middlebury. It is this large complex with an Amish style restaurant, an inn, shops, and bakery. They serve lunch home style; some may call it country style. We had about a half hours drive to get there, because we planned on taking the scenic route trough Amish country. We arrived forty minutes later and ready to eat. The restaurant is a huge place. It must seat three hundred people or more. There was hardly anyone there. I guess the tourist season had not geared up yet. We told our server we were there for the home style lunch. She informed us that would include fried chicken, home made egg noodles, green beans, mash potatoes and gravy, corn and our choice of pot roast or ham. We chose the pot roast. It wasn't the best country style food I have eaten. That distinction is a toss up between the food served at the Daniel Boone Inn in Boone North Carolina or a little hole in the wall called Lazy Susan's in Spruce Pine North Carolina. As I said it wasn't the best but is was still very good. For desert I had fresh strawberry pie with ice cream, of course. After lunch we explored the place a bit. It had this big meandering country store that took up the four outside walls of the inn. We also visited some other shops and climbed the stairs to the top of a grain silo that had been converted into an observation deck. Sometime around three thirty, quarter to four we were ready to head back to Elkhart. We took the interstate back so it was a rather quick trip. Once again our coaches were parked in their spots, power connected, jacks down and slides out. Once inside, I soon discovered that my tank was full of water. I would not have been surprised to find mints on our pillows. The bathroom floor looked perfect. I went outside the coach to check the main slide sweeps. They had been replaced. I checked the roof and saw that my big bedroom skylight had been resealed. There were a couple of other spots that looked like they had been touched up as well. I visited Gary's coach and we inspected the work done on his slide outs. We could tell that Ed had extended a couple of cables instead of replacing them. Gary and I had talked about doing this a couple of times ourselves. However, we were not confident in how to go about it or what type of connector to use. Now we knew, but of course we hoped we would not have a reason to do it. Gary told me that Walt had blocked off a heating vent behind his loveseat. The hot air trapped itself back there and was virtually baking the couch so at Gary's request Walt took care of it. We had given the techs a long list of things to do. It appeared they had done them all and they repaired the damage from my encounter with the telephone pole. It was obvious that after two days with ESC our coaches were now better than new. The four of us visited for awhile, talking about the trip and what we had accomplished so far. We were all in agreement that it had been worth the journey, no doubt about that. The last thing we discussed was what time to leave in the morning. I said we can't leave too early, not until we pay our bills. I had my doubts about coming to Elkhart, it was a long way there and I always get nervous about leaving my business for long stretches of time. Of course I never really leave my business; it follows me wherever I go, but I was sure glad we made the trip. I knew that I had a good coach, and now with its many problems fixed, I could start to really enjoy it. Diane and I ended our evening by driving to the Elkhart Riverwalk Park. The park runs right beside the river, on both sides, and twists itself around for two miles. It is a great place to stretch one's legs and that is just what we did. Nickolas loves to take walks like this and he led the whole time. Diane and I talked Galax. We looked forward to being back there in just a couple of days. We talked about the trip, things back at home, just simple stuff that old married couples, who travel in a motor home, chat about. By dark we were back at the coach. After dropping Diane and Nickolas off at the door. I drove to a dollar store to buy some bottled water. While there I purchased a set of sheets, after calling Diane to ask her about them, some snacks and a few housekeeping items. While paying for my goods, I struck up a conversation with the young lady cashier. She had seen our coaches come down the street. She also told me her husband was a framer for one of the trailer makers. They were very busy. They had an order for 700 rigs and were working overtime to get them done. I thought that was great news. I hoped that the class A market would soon do as good. Back in the coach, Nickolas and I shared a bag of kettle cooked potato chips while watching NCIS. Not long after that it was bed time. Tomorrow it was back on the road. We would be stopping at a KOA somewhere near Canton, Ohio and we hoped to be out of Elkhart around nine. Day 6 As usual Gary and I were up early. We were getting our coaches ready to hit the road. Gary had hooked up his tow car the night before. I was under the hood of my car pulling the ignition fuse which is the last thing I do when I tow the car. As I was closing the hood Roger walked up. "Are you guys leaving now?" he asked. "I hope not, because we aren't quite done with your coaches yet." They still needed to change my rigs oil. The day before, due to supplier problems the shop couldn't get the correct filter, but it was being delivered this morning. Gary's coach still had a wiper park failure error code. Walt hoped to get that cleared up this morning as well. Gary and I both figured that we came here to get things fixed so let the guys keep on working. About an hour and a half later my oil was changed and my bill was paid. During the time my coach was being worked on, JD, Gary and I were sitting in JD's office just shooting the breeze. I learned that JD had helped set up the Monaco service facility in Wildwood, Florida, then transferred to Elkhart where he worked for Monaco both in the coach and towable divisions. As the economy started to put holes in Monaco's ship, he was asked to come to ESC and had been there a good while by the time Gary and I first started talking to him. I also found out that ESC shared its facilities with a graphics company that custom painted new coaches. What that meant was that for the most part ESC could take care of about anything. Walt came in and mentioned that they were having trouble clearing Gary's wiper park failure alarm. They had done what the Workhorse techs had suggested which was to disconnect the chassis battery, do some kind of ground, and then connect it. I suggested that they call a service manager at Workhorse and ask him for help. His name is Eric and I have him on my speed dial. He knows more about the UFO then anybody I know. I think JD was a little skeptical that a regional rep would take his call. I told him to tell Eric that Gramps said to call him. So he made the call and I could tell that Eric answered. JD said that Gramps said to call, and I could tell that JD got a pretty good response from Eric. They talked for awhile and the conclusion was that the coach really needed to go to a Workhorse Service Center where they would have the latest and greatest diagnostic software. We all agreed that would be the best thing to do. At that point Eric asked to speak to me. We had a pleasant catching up kind of conversation. I told him the coach was working great and the guys at ESC were really taking good care of us. Eric was actually going through airport security somewhere and we made plans to talk again. Roger let us know that he was finished with my coach. We said our good byes. I once again hooked up my tow car and we were on the road again. That was it. Our coaches were now in really great shape. Gary had the wiper problem, but that will be fixed eventually. Later there was one thing that Diane wished we had asked the guys to do. She would like to fasten hinges to the solid stove top covers so that they could just be folded back when needed and not be a falling hazard. (See my blog about turkey soup). We would like to make a trip to Elkhart again. When we do we will be visiting JD and his crew. I don't think they will have any problem with taking care of Diane's wish. We drove until lunch time and stopped at a Flying J's for sandwiches and gas. Not too many hours after that we drove back into the hills behind Canton Ohio and soon we were at the local KOA. It was in a remote spot but it was also a very scenic spot. We sat up camp and Gary fired up his grill. We cooked hot dogs and sausages. We used the coals to start a camp fire. We just sat there staring at the fire and counting the stars. All of us were thankful that it had been such a successful trip. The next day would find us splitting up our little caravan. Gary and Janis would head east on I-64 to Charlottesville while Diane and I would stay on I-77 to Galax. I looked forward to that. I wanted to relax and play some golf, actually a lot of golf. I had a new to me set of clubs. Diane and I also wanted to visit with my parents and see our friends again. But that is another story.