When you move to a new place, especially in a different state, it’s a lot of work to find new sources of supplies and services that you had compiled over more than 40 years living in the same house. So when our trusty Volvo needed service after we moved to the North Beach, I called the closest Volvo service center I could find, some 80 or so miles away in Tacoma. Didn’t get a real person, so I left a voice mail. Nobody ever returned the call. I guess working on 20 year old cars wasn’t their thing. We used a place in Grays Harbor but Volvo wasn’t their specialty so it felt like we were paying them for learning time, in addition to fixing time. We really wanted to use somebody who already knew the Volvo ropes. We had such a place in Portland, we felt they had served us well for years, so when something really complicated came up, we decided the best thing would be to drive it to our old city for repair. We had been vaccinated by then and had acquired KN95 masks, so we figured we could do it safely. While I drove the Volvo, Ric drove Rigby so we would have a bubble to overnight in with our dogs, as we didn’t know how long the repair would take.

While we waited to hear about the car, we went to the Costco we had patronized when we lived in Southeast Portland, buying a whole lot of everything because we were still in hoard-for-the-pandemic mode and Rigby’s refrigerator and freezer would get it safely home. As it turned out, the Volvo was finished around 4 pm the same day, just as it was starting to snow. So we decided the best course would be to drive straight home, rather than risk getting snowbound more than three hours away with lots of perishable food on board. We figured I-5 would be fairly snow free because of the amount of traffic and the road to the beach would be okay for driving because of course it doesn’t really snow at the beach.

We usually try to drive more or less in tandem, but I noticed Ric was driving really slow, but I figured he was just being overly cautious as he is sometimes wont to do. Because I’m such a stickler for not using the phone while driving, we weren’t in communication. As long as we were still moving north, I figured we were making progress, so just be patient.

But finally, my phone rang and I answered it. “It’s really hard to drive Rigby,” Ric said. “It’s like the accelerator isn’t really controlling the car, the engine isn’t responding well. Like the engine revs but it doesn’t speed up the car.”

“Wow,” I said, “I wonder what that could be??”

“I don’t know… but wait, maybe it’s getting a little better. Let’s see how it goes.”

Onward into the night. I thought it looked like Ric was making more progress, so maybe it’s just one of those weird things that comes and goes and you never find out why. By this time we were getting close to the place on the freeway where the guy who always seems really mad about everything has his huge billboard where he puts up his meanie slogans. Soon after we passed Centralia, Ric calls again and says the problem is getting worse and we need to find a rest area where he can try to figure out what’s wrong and fix it. So I propose we meet up at Grand Mound where there’s a really big open paved area and figure out what to do. It’s pitch black dark, still snowing, and very cold. Not suitable conditions for troubleshooting car trouble, in my humble opinion.

When we get face-to-face, Ric describes just how ridiculously bad it’s driving and admits that something has to be really wrong. We decide it’s bad enough we have to get it towed to the Mercedes place in Tacoma, so Ric calls a tow company, making sure they understand what they will be towing so bring a big flatbed truck. [Once in his prior Sprinter, a gas pumper in Oregon (where you can’t pump your own gas) put regular gas in the Diesel engine, which put it out of commission and he had to get it towed and it took a tow company three tries before they believed they needed a big flatbed to do the job.]

But remember, Rigby is jammed full of a pandemic hoard of Costco purchases, which we had to reload into the Volvo (without refrigerator or freezer) before driving the rest of the way home not on I-5 but country roads and it turns out it does actually snow at the beach and all the way to the beach. 

We got home around 10 pm and an hour later, after we finally got all the groceries unloaded and put away, we collapsed and told one another that sometime we’ll tell this story and it will be funny. Maybe someday.

Rigby’s problem turned out to be caused by something something wheel sensors something and it wasn’t all that long before we got a recall notice for that exact issue. But guess what? The part needed to accomplish the recall was not available. It turned out that Rigby had been only temporarily fixed by replacing the faulty part with the same part that was being recalled because the part that would really fix it could not be had. So, yes, it could happen again, and not only that, it could happen in the other wheel as well. Yikes.

This is what is known as being on the horns of a dilemma. We could drive Rigby but now that we knew what could happen, did we feel safe driving Rigby? It took us a while to figure this all out because I don’t know about you, but I am a reasonably intelligent person and fairly highly educated and I cannot understand anything that recall notices say past the second word in the first paragraph. And forgive me for wondering if this is on purpose. Because of course it is.

We got on the waiting list for the recall, and then we got another recall notice. It took me a while to figure out it was for a different thing, something something emissions something. And guess what? You got it. The part or parts needed to fix that one weren’t available either. Another recall wait list! 

“We should get to you by November.”

Then: “You’re on track for January, and we’ll be able to do them both at the same appointment.”

Then: “We need to move your appointment to May.” I don’t remember the reason because what the hell difference does it make.

We quit answering the phone so it couldn’t be delayed again. Not really, but it crossed my mind.

Before we figured out just how much of a risk it would be to take a trip without the permanent recall fixes made, we planned a great cross country excursion all the way to Sleeping Bear Dunes National Monument in Michigan, where a wonderful friend from college and his wife live. With a whole lot of interesting stops on the way and back. I spent days mapping out our route and making reservations at campgrounds, we were going to see granddaughter Calla at college in St. Paul and visit Prince’s studio in Minneapolis, among many other cool attractions. We were really excited!

So Ric made a list of some things that needed to be done in the Airstream part of Rigby (the water heater was acting up, the refrigerator wasn’t keeping things cold enough, etc.) and made a July appointment at the Airstream place, which had moved to a different part of the Seattle metro area since we were there last. That would give us plenty of time to get it travel-ready by mid-September, when we had a family wedding to attend in Oregon and from there, would head north and east toward Michigan. Covid seemed to be winding down, and we were eager for a change of scenery.

Days went by, they stretched into weeks. We had no word from Airstream by latter part of August. So bad cop called. That would be me. The one who doesn’t live by cookies and gets right to the point.

It turned out they hadn’t even started work on it. Why? Covid. They said they were doing it next, but I don’t even know if that was true. They didn’t yet have an assessment done and there was no action plan. Why? Covid. When will work be done? Don’t know. Why? Covid. I reminded them we needed it finished by mid-September. No reaction really. Why were we told to bring it in July and given an appointment for then? Sorry, covid. 

In the next call we found out that the insurance company had finally approved replacing the refrigerator, but none were available. Why? Covid. When? Don’t know. Covid.

It became clear we would not in fact be in a position to make our anticipated trip. Well, we do love the scenery on the North Beach now, don’t we? We drove to Airstream to get Rigby so we could attend the wedding. As it turned out, it wouldn’t be wise to make the cross country trip then anyway. Why? Covid. Delta came along, followed by Omicron. 

We took Rigby back after the wedding, so they could actually do the work. Finally, everything was finished except the refrigerator. It took so long that we had to pay them to winterize Rigby, and then de-winterize her. The refrigerator finally arrived in February 2023 and they put it in place.

Then we got a call: Okay, the refrigerator is in, but I thought I should let you know it’s not the same kind you had before. This one has a freezer. Uh, really? We have the huge freezer below. We really need the refrigerator space. Can you take a photo so we can see the layout? Sure.

Several days later: Yeah, we’re still hoping to get the photo of the refrigerator. Oh yeah, sorry, I was out sick. Covid?

The photo looked fine, the freezer is small, and after all, our huge freezer is full of tools.

Finally, the Airstream part of the work was done! What a relief! So we drove back to Milton and picked it up.

Now to get the Mercedes recalls behind us. Yay, they didn’t push it out again. The day in May arrives. Told it will take 7-10 days. Got the call it was ready, arranged to pick it up Friday May 20th. Got there, paid the bill, went out and that’s when we saw this (see photo at right). Took a photo, went back in, showed the woman the photo, asked what’s going on? She doesn’t know, calls the service department and directs us to go there. Technician comes out and says, the tailpipe is rusted out, we had to take it off when we did the recall on the emission system, but you have to order it from Airstream and have them replace it.

Huh? This tailpipe is part of the Mercedes chassis. Are you sure we have to go through Airstream. Yep, they’re the only ones who can do it.

What the AF? But Ric and I have faced enough real adversity in our lives, by now we know that sometimes things don’t make sense and you have to do what someone tells you to do because there’s no other choice. It’s not really safe to drive very far without a tail pipe, not to the beach for sure, but we should be okay driving to the Airstream place, which is less than 10 miles away.

But when we get there and get waited on, the Airstream person says, no, that’s not us, that’s Mercedes. Airstream doesn’t touch the tailpipe. OMG just shoot us so we die more quickly and less painfully. So Ric tells Airstream to call Mercedes, talk amongst yourselves and decide who’s right and then give us the verdict.

So after the one who needs to do that gets back from lunch, that’s what happens. But then, the Sprinter person, the only one who seems to be on top of all things Sprinter at Mercedes, who was working in another building that day, just our usual luck, gets involved and figures out what’s going on. Turns out the Mercedes guy was wrong, the Airstream people were right, it’s a Mercedes issue and they’re the ones who need to fix it. So back to Mercedes our little tandem convoy goes. 

No explanation about why we were told it was ready for us to pick up, why no one had given us this rather important bit about how they discovered the tailpipe had rusted out and needed replacing when doing the recall on the emission system even though they called us to authorize them to remove a foreign object from a tire and patch it, nor why we had spent a whole day driving about 200 miles for no earthly reason whatever. 

Looking on the bright side, the Sprinter person at Mercedes felt so bad about our ordeal that she told Ric she wouldn’t charge us for the new tail pipe. 

So we’re supposed to get Rigby sometime soon. I am not invested in the outcome. I can’t afford to be. Maybe tailpipes are on backorder or stuck on a ship offshore somewhere. I have decided to become a robot with no emotions because I can’t afford any more disappointment and I have zero fucks left to give.

It’s next week and we still don’t have Rigby, nor been told when we can expect her. I’ll be in touch when there is news. I started to say good news, then I remembered that I no longer have feelings.

But I have many thoughts, so I will also share my theories about what the hell is going on in our world to cause all this when I report the next developments.