(Sarah's dream of Baja)

I don't know how to explain this day. Grandma and I had a great night in Roseburg at the Rising River RV Park. They have the nicest shower rooms that practically turn into a sauna after a few minutes. We had eggs and sausage for breakfast. Grandma makes the greatest breakfasts.

I filled the water tank on the Airstream and we got in the Land Rover with our fingers crossed that our driving would be as uneventful as yesterday afternoon. There are some serious mountains south of here and all was going well for about 45 miles, even with the tanks full. Then the beep, which comes with a warning not to drive over 30 miles an hour. Try driving 30 miles an hour on I-5 when trucks are screaming by you with loads of logs on the back. It's scary as hell. We pulled off at the next intersection, which turned out to be one of those off-but-not-on exits go in our direction, and took a little country road for a mile or so before we could find a place to pull off. Remembering what Scott at Land Rover Portland told me yesterday, I adjusted the weight distribution hitch up one link on the chain and took a little more load off the hitch. We drove another mile or so before we found a place to turn around. Thanks to those people in the little shack with the scary dog and what seemed like a million cats for letting us trespass without pulling out a shotgun.

We had to head back north to the next exit for a turnaround. My adjustment did not work. The beep came again and again, and on a particularly steep rise the back of the Rover started bucking. So we got off at the next exit and knew we had to dump the water. We had traveled safely without water yesterday and thought we could do the same empty, also knowing that we would be expected to be full of water on entry to Mexico. I called Adventure Caravans, the leaders of our RV tour through Baja, and explained the situation. Ron told me that the leaders of the tour would help me with the water and get us through safely if we could just get there. Grandma was reluctant, but we dumped water anyway, and resumed our trip south.

It was only minutes before the beep came again. I told Grandma, that's it, our trip is over. She said yes, and how sorry she was for me. The suspension would soon overheat and we would be stuck again waiting for it to cool down, and who knew how long it would be before it would give out altogether. We need to be in Chula Vista by Friday and that was no way to get there. I also had put our safety first. So we found the next exit, turned around, and found the next rest stop to let the suspension cool. I took Sarah for a little walk, found the pop machine for a diet Coke, and spent those few minutes feeling really sad. I thought about heading back to Seattle without completing this trip after all I had done to plan it and the sacrifices to make it come true. I also thought about the experiences I would miss with Grandma and Sarah.

After about 20 minutes we hit the road north to Seattle again, and before long another beep. We were nearing Canyon City and it was about 11:30, so we decided to stop for an early lunch and let the suspension cool thoroughly before moving on. After a little maneuvering we found a place to park and headed toward the Canyon City Cafe. As we were crossing the street a Ford pick-up pulled out, and to my amazement four large men stepped out of it. I had no idea a pick-up could hold that many people. One of them was wearing a University of Michigan jacket, my graduate school.

We sat down and had a really nice lunch. Large salads and sandwiches. The waitress was sassy in the best possible way. I wasn't feeling better about anything, but it was a nice distraction. I was just worried about getting us home.

Then I made what some of you may think is a crazy decision. I bought my Land Rover specifically so I could pull a trailer and it wasn't doing the job. If we made it back to Seattle, I'd have to sell the trailer or buy a different vehicle that could deal with it. And there I'd be with this trip a lost opportunity. So I told Grandma I was going to the bathroom and went to the guy in the Michigan jacket and asked him where he got his Ford. Roseburg, he said. I asked him whether they gave him a good deal. Yep. He wasn't much of a talker.

I went back to the table and told Grandma what I had decided. I was going to stop in Roseburg to buy a pick-up, and we were not giving up on this trip. She looked at me as if I had completely lost my mind. Probably I have lost my mind. I will save you all the details of my experience at Lithia Ford in Roseburg, except to say that Cory is an honest salesperson and and a stand up guy. Grandma had advised not to tell them my situation, otherwise I'd be in a terrible bargaining position. But I had blurted it out within minutes of talking to Cory. After looking at several models and talking to my Dad a few times on the phone (Dad drives the big rigs and knows about these things), I settled on a half-ton F-150 in silver to match the Airstream. They couldn't give me much of a price on the Rover but offered to keep it for me until I can retrieve it and either sell it privately in Seattle or keep it and have the truck as a second vehicle. I don't know yet how I'm going to handle that situation, but for the time being I'm not worrying about it. Cory did everything possible to help me, including figuring out how to complete some paperwork I'd need at the border.

SORRY for this long post, but wanted you all to know what a dramatic day it was. We are back at the Rising River RV park, I have a new truck that by-golly better pull this damn trailer to Mexico, and we'll get somehow get there in two days to rendezvous with our caravan. If you are the praying kind, please put in a request. Either for my sanity or that we make this trip. Take you pick.

I'll post a picture of the new truck tomorrow when there is daylight.

Miss you all, Bill.