Never as easy as we'd like

   Friday, May 14, we finally took Carlton the camper on his maiden voyage. I wish I could tell you that it went off without a hitch, but, well the hitch was the first problem.

So, the morning started out cool but clear and sunny. By the time we were actually packing up the camper, it had warmed up nicely. Of course, having already seen the forecast, I knew that was only a ruse. I haven’t lived in northern Wisconsin pretty near my entire life without realizing to never trust the weather. But more on that later.

I hadn’t previously noticed a heinous design flaw on the hitch. Not until, as I was lowering the camper unto the truck’s hitch. When my hand – specifically my left ring finger – smacked into the hitch, catching my wedding band.

 It really wasn’t as bad as this looks. And, yes, I took off my ring as soon as I’d taken the picture. And no, my fingers are not that fat! It was just a bad angle.

Then as we were hooking up the battery, my arm touched something which gave me an electric shock. My son, the electrical engineer, said later that night, that it was impossible for me to get any sort of electric shock from touching something outside, around the battery.

Unfortunately, I didn’t get a picture of the battery. I suppose it’s not too late for me to take a picture of my arm with an arrow pointing to the place where I got shocked, but – no – enough with the arrows.

Somehow, we managed to get on the road without further incident, even though it was 45 minutes later than my goal for departure time.

We’d only driven two miles down the road, when Hubby pulled over as the trailer was pulling funny. When we had picked up Carlton, the dealership installed this distribution hitch which was supposed to magically distribute the weight and control sway. For starters, the thing they added to the hitch of the truck weighs forty pounds, so I’m not sure how that is helping with the weight.

But anyway, when we brought Carlton home in April, this system somehow did allow the truck to pull the trailer easier and kept it from swaying when we passed semi-trucks on the highway. When we took off on that first camping trip, however, it didn’t seem to work as magically.

Hubby turned into the park-and-ride and stopped the rig. We both walked around the truck and trailer, not sure what we were looking for, but everything looked okay. All we could figure was that the added load of water in the tank and other supplies had added enough weight to make a difference. Once we were on the highway, we didn’t notice any drag, or pull, or whatever you want to call it.

We pulled into Buckhorn State Park at 4:55, only fifty-five minutes late, but we got there. Found our spot, leveled the trailer, unhooked it, went to unlock the camper door, and discovered the keys were no longer in my pocket. After searching every where in the truck and on the ground for them, I started wondering if I could pick the lock like they do so effortlessly on those crime drama shows. Later, Hubby confessed that he was wondering which window would be the easiest to break in through. His set of keys, by the way, was locked safely inside Carlton.

I finally found mine on the bumper of the truck, just enough under the tailgate that we didn’t spy them right away. (This picture is a re-enactment. I can’t photograph everything that happens as it happens.)

Anyway, sorry for the ramble. In the end, after camp was set up and all was right with our little world, Hubby and I laid down on the queen-size bed and were wonderfully pleased by how much more comfortable it was than it had been at home.

Next time, what we actually did that weekend.