Sept 1st

“Mercury Forecast Edmonton 27 degrees, Calgary 27 degrees, Mesa 37 degrees”

There’s no better word for this trip than chaotic. What should have been a straightforward day turned into a marathon of emotions: pleasure, anger, impatience, frustration, annoyance, fear, and absolutely no enjoyment.

The weather tried its best to set a positive tone—cool, sunny, and perfect for a drive through the mountains. We left Calgary at 6:30 a.m. with a simple plan: get to Salmon Arm, pick up the motorhome, and return home the same night. That plan didn’t survive long.

A fatal accident shut down the highway, leaving us sitting for two and a half hours while police completed their investigation. When someone loses their life, the officers have a duty to be thorough, and they were. After the standstill came another hour of slow crawling before traffic finally opened up. When the two vehicles involved passed by on tow trucks, both were completely destroyed. It was shocking that only one person died. All of it caused by the same thing we see far too often—drivers making reckless decisions for the sake of saving a few minutes. And it didn’t stop there. On the way home, people were still trying to squeeze past closing lanes, cutting off semis and myself in a motorhome, and proving once again that common sense is not universal. I learned quickly to move over fast before the end and let the guy trying to pass suck it up. I watched the traffic in my mirror and could see Jackie struggling as she was following me with these idiots trying to save a few minutes.

By the time we reached Salmon Arm, nearly nine hours had passed. I checked in, picked up the RV, and asked for the rims to be retorqued after a short drive. They assured me everything was done. I didn’t even make it out of the yard before the ABS light came on. Dealerships and their “test drives”—another reminder of why I call them ripoff artists and hiring not well trained employees. They pulled it back in, cleared codes, and claimed a sensor had jiggled loose. An hour wasted, and we were finally on our way again.

We started the drive home already behind schedule. By 10 p.m., in pitch darkness with a filthy windshield, I had to call it quits. I couldn’t see with the oncoming traffic lights. We parked at the Field visitor center, ending a sixteen‑hour day.

During my usual walk‑around inspection, I found oil sprayed all over the front tires on the inside. In the dark, I couldn’t tell if it was brake fluid, but the reservoir was sitting at minimum—technically acceptable, but far from reassuring. A leak like that can lead to catastrophic brake failure, and the thought of a 30,000‑pound RV losing brakes on mountain roads is enough to keep anyone awake. I didn’t sleep at all. Jackie didn’t either. Between the road noise, trains every hour, bright streetlights, and the fact that we had piled all our holiday gear on the bed and were forced to sleep in the living room, rest simply wasn’t an option.

By morning, I had a plan. The brake pedal still felt solid, so I decided to risk it—drive slowly, rely on the grade brake for most of the braking, and avoid any sudden stops. We left at 6 a.m., and thankfully the roads were quiet. Even so, descending those long 6‑ and 8‑degree grades was nerve‑wracking. The RV gains speed quickly, and holding it back without relying heavily on the brakes is a challenge. My engine and transmission screamed their way down those hills, but I didn’t have a choice if we wanted to get the motorhome home safely.

We made it without incident—something I thanked the Lord for more than once while dropping down those steep slopes. When we arrived, I checked underneath again. Both front wheels were completely covered in oil.

The first call was to the repair shop. Predictably, the initial response was, “Not our fault.” That is BULLSHIT. After some discussion, the conclusion was that the front hub oil seals may have failed—something that is their responsibility. They may not have repaired them but they had an impact on them when removing the caliper. They should have noticed them and they were NOT leaking when I dropped it off. I started searching for a shop in Calgary and finally got booked into Shaw GMC for Thursday morning.

The plan now is straightforward: have Shaw repair the issue, get the RV back into safe condition, and then pursue a credit from Gemm Diesel. If the parts themselves were defective, I’ll ship them back to Salmon Arm.

A horrible trip, another repair‑shop nightmare, and both of us exhausted. Jackie had a couple of important calls to make this morning, and I honestly don’t know how she managed to focus after the night we had.

After 51 years of camping, we may need to decide whether it’s time to stop. Maybe it’s time to spend more of our days out at Oasis instead. I’ll see how I feel in the spring. If we do decide to stay put, I’ll buy a new trailer—not to tow, but to leave there permanently.

Glad to be home.

With September the school year is here. I loved school. It is shame that we don’t allow frosh anymore as it was a fun event. Sure some guys got black balled, bras snapped, titty twisters happened, embarrassed and degraded but all in good fun. Kangaroo court, penalties for failure to behave like clean the hallway with a toothbrush etc.

Look at these kids. Handsome and smart. Look at Attie looking like a prep boy. He is going places in this world for sure. Grade 10, Grade 6 and Grade 3. Time flies.

Thought of the Day

Retirement is extremely hard. No one gets out alive !