Yesterday, I was just about to pull off of I-10 to head into some fairly remote BLM land beyond cell phone reception range, when my truck’s computer informed me it was low on brake fluid. A few moments later, my brakes started to go. I immediately pulled over, popped the hood, and saw that the brake fluid bottle was empty. I looked under the truck, and the brake fluid line was leaking, in a location between the front and rear axles. Well… that was too big a job for my limited tools on the side of the highway, so I decided to make use of my Good Sam membership. They got me a tow to a nearby repair shop with good reviews in a one-horse town. I spent a pleasant night in my camper and waited for the shop to open this morning. Today, the shop got me back on the road in a jiffy. It was an inexpensive repair, which I knew it would be. Take a look!
When I asked the guy what caused this, he looked at my plates, looked back at me, and said, “New Hampshire.” We both had a good laugh. Yes, New Hampshire did this… or rather, the salt and snow of New England did this. A rock or something must have chipped the cover, and then the line eventually rusted, but it stayed together until yesterday. He told me there are no other leaks in my brake lines and the rest of the underside looked very clean. I knew the previous owner had taken good care of this truck, including oiling the underside, as it is surprisingly rust-free for a 2007 New Hampshire truck (which actually spent a few years of its life in Maine!).
So back on the road we are. I have to tell you... getting my rig towed like this was a fascinating experience. I’m almost 6 tons in weight and almost 12’ high, after all! Thankfully, the tow guy was experienced, and we’re in RV country, so he didn’t even bat an eye. He said he has pulled giant semis and Class A’s out of mountain passes, so it was nothing for him to pull my “little” rig off the open highway.
Of course, I realize I was lucky. If my brakes had completely failed on such a mountain pass, beyond cell phone range, then the best case scenario would have been me enduring a long, cold, and unpleasant walk back to cell phone range. The worst case scenario would have been unthinkable.
I knew the repair was going to be minor, I knew the money was in the bank, and I knew I had nowhere I needed to be and no one to answer to, so this little mini-adventure didn’t phase me (besides the first few minutes when my brakes stopped working!). I’m still free, free, free.
And my friends and fellow nomads, today was the beginning of the rest of my life, didn’t you know? Oh, how much I
will live! Here is the view from my dinette today, and I feel like I'm in a dream world... in a poem by T.S. Eliot... Apropos, it is my first night on BLM land. I will be greeting the new year surrounded by nature, in a dream world. A Happy New Year to you all!
MaTaLa said:
Living an authentic life is a wonderful treatment for any ailment. I hope you're able to follow your dreams!
You wrote this in Gypsy108’s thread, but I am quoting it here because I have to say that I have felt very differently since I hit the road a few weeks ago. I just feel… better. More relaxed, more positive, more grateful… overall just more “well.” Am I in a honeymoon phase with my new nomadic life? Will this feeling taper off, or does it endure?