Road Trip Mishaps: Part 4 of 5

What long trip would be complete without a few misadventures?  All in all, things went pretty well. However, not perfectly.  Once again I was reminded, &%$ happens.  Our main coping strategy was not to blame one another, maintain a sense of humor, and have confidence in our ability to problem–solve.  When in doubt, call AAA.

Kitschy Kanab

Our motel in Kanab, Utah was an early reminder of how thin the walls were.  We could hear our next door neighbors as if we shared a room with them.  I attributed their groans and heavy breathing to an unusually active sex life.   Then they had their TV on all night. I couldn't figure the man and woman out, until I saw them the next morning. It turned out they were an older couple with COPD and were just trying to breathe.  I needed to let that one go. 

We had to drive across the parking lot to get to the breakfast room.  It felt silly, but was just a bit too far for me to walker over and stay upright. One morning on the drive over, the van made a strange sound and we knew exactly what the problem was.  The right, front tire was flat, not low—completely flat.  Earl called the rental company, who offered to provide a new car in a couple of hours.  Given the amount of gear in the van, that wasn't at the top of his list to do.  The rental company offered to call AAA.  "Gee, thanks," he said.  "I can do that". The AAA tow truck driver came right over, removed a large staple from the tire and patched it. I waited uncomplainingly (that was as helpful as I knew how to be) in the room.  We were back on the road in an hour.

Another motel had a toilet that ran continuously.  It was quiet, but annoying and the management said they would switch us the next day.  It was Memorial Day and the maintenance crew had taken the holiday off.  Since it was quiet, we opted to be patient.  However, when I got up in the middle of the night to go to the bathroom, there was water all over the tile floor.  Now, that is a problem for most people, but it can be lethal for someone with no balance.  I had to wake up Earl and have him mop up the water.  I didn't like having to do that, but figured it was better then a wife with a head injury.

Sedona

Skeeter allowed Earl and I to enjoy the downtown area of Sedona.  After loading her in the van, we went to visit the Cathedral built into the rocks.  It was going to be a perfect place to scoot as well, but when we got there, we couldn't find the key. After Earl toured the attraction and I waited in the car, we decided to drive back downtown where we had originally parked. Amazingly enough, we found the key. That was the good news. The bad news was the key had broken off so we only found the top half.  Even worse news was that the other half had broken off in Skeeter.  Even if we had remembered to bring the spare key (duh), it wouldn't have helped. What was the resolution of that dilemma?  Earl figured out that if we put the broken top half very carefully into the key hole, it matched up with the broken part and worked.  The last half of the trip, that's what we did. When we got home, the scooter store fixed the problem and gave us a new key.

Zion

In Zion National Park, Earl and I discovered that some people don't make a distinction between accessible and wheelchair accessible.  To the ranger,  Accessible meant anyone can get to the pathway once you take the steps.  Wheelchair Accessible means Skeeter and I can get get to the pathway because there are no steps.  Earl always checked out a route before we ventured out. The park ranger assured us this path was indeed accessible, but neglected to mention the stairs.  Skeeter and I were right there, for Pete's sake.  We ended up going back on the road with the shuttles, bikes, and hikers.  Even with the traffic, it was preferable to getting back on the park shuttle. 

'Hmmm, go or no go'

I am known for taking Skeeter places we probably shouldn't go. I am also known for getting into trouble.* In all fairness to me,  a route can start out looking okay and turned unexpectedly to crap.  I've gotten stuck in mud, ruts, deep gravel, and deep sand in places that initially looked passable.  Oh well, no guts, no glory.  I'm imagining the people we pass are thinking, "Gee, she's adventurous." They're actually thinking "Is she stupid?"  Actually, I'm not and can usually tell the difference between a 'let's go for it' path and an 'I'm not going there' path.  Occasionally, I get it wrong and the hiking trail in Bryce Canyon was one of those times.  As Skeeter skidded toward the edge, I decided this trail was an 'I'm not going there' path and decided to wait for Earl in the car.  However, Bryce Canyon is a good place to do in your spouse, if you're of a mind.

We had an extra day and decided to go to Monterey Bay for fresh calamari.  After enjoying the 17 Mile Scenic Drive, we stopped at a restaurant that had calamari on the menu and was accessible for me.  To make a long story short, as we left the restaurant, we discovered that we had locked the keys in the van.
"Yep, I can see them right there," grumped Earl.
Yes, I know we should have hidden a spare car key, but we didn't—okay? Earl walked me back into the restaurant to have a glass of wine (smart man), and wait for the AAA driver.  He came 15 minutes later, popped the van door, and retrieved the keys in 15 seconds.  "Just like New York," he said.  You gotta love AAA.

Toward the end of our trip, Earl and I decided to go cycling on a path in Ashland, Oregon.  It was one of those alternate routes with a short section that turned unexpectedly to crap, going from small gravel to big rocks.  Big rocks aren't a problem for someone who is walking.  However, if you're on a recumbent trike, it feels you have three flat tires and no shock absorbers.


The lesson: Anticipating travel mishaps, staying flexible, and having back–up plans can encourage marital harmony.

*Sample of previous posts (take your pick):
What happens in Tucson...
Out of Power--Adventure #3
Trip to Bed, Bath and Beyond--Adventure #5
Runaway walker
Skeeter and the Wine Country