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How NOT to Tow a Car Four Down While Your Son Has To Poop
Today starts a
(perhaps) once-a-week (or so) column (or something) by the other half of the
Adventure Mobile parenting team and the driver of our illustrious home,
Michael.
Our tale opens and closes during an otherwise uneventful trip
from Ithaca to Albany, NY. In my
defense, I am still getting used to the turning radius of the bus and have yet
to install a fresh water tank. These
things will become abundantly clear as our story unfolds. You see, about 3 miles outside of Schenevus,
NY, Jonah announced with much wiggling and bouncing that he had to go to the
bathroom. #2. Now.
We have a bathroom on the bus, but it doesn’t work without
water (flushing being an important part of the bathroom-using process,
especially in a moving vehicle). Since we
have no source of water except our “street” connection while at campgrounds (at
least for now), using the toilet in the bus was not an option. So we got off at the very next exit, which
promised two different locations that would likely provide the proper facilities. We were incorrect. We found ourselves driving through the center
of a town in what was obviously in final preparations for a town parade: onlookers
everywhere, traffic cones, fire trucks, closed streets, police directing
traffic. We trundled down the road with
a groaning Jonah past the onlookers (who may have thought the parade was
starting) and past the only gas station in town - a station large enough for
four cars at most and on the wrong side of the road. Stopping there would have meant blocking the
entire station and maybe the entire road in addition to risking being caught in
a parade. I hoped we might find another
candidate facility, but were directed onto a side street that emptied onto a
country road. Lots of cars, houses,
horses, but no bathrooms.
We drove for about 5 minutes (Jonah bouncing and moaning) before
I decided we needed to turn around and try our luck in town. The only problem was there didn’t seem to be
anywhere to turn around.
---
Now, when towing a car four wheels down (also known as
flat-towing), you cannot back up. Not
even a foot; not an inch. I’ve been told
this from many places and knowing what I know of physics and car design, I’m
not about to try it for myself. That’s a
might-need-to-buy-a-new-car kind of experiment.
So while I’m towing Sally, I try to make sure I’ve got enough room to
turn around if the need presents itself.
Earlier on this particular trip we stopped to do a little
hiking and to view a waterfall. I think
Missy blogged about this yesterday, so I’ll cut to the chase (even though it
was awesome); we were done and needed to leave.
The parking lot looked like it might be a tiny bit too small to make the
turn; instead of attempting it and getting stuck across traffic for 3-5 minutes
while we unhooked the car (so I could back up to finish the turn), I decided it
would be prudent to unhook the car first and hook it back up after completing
the turn. Wouldn’t you know that Billy
made the turn without a problem and with a good 5 feet to spare. I had worried unnecessarily.
---
Back outside Schenevus, NY, the day’s previous turning
success proved to be my downfall. I saw
a large Y-type intersection that looked about the size of the day’s earlier
radius, and I decided to go for it.
Four feet short.
Now I’m a 45 foot long roadblock across both lanes of a main
route into town with a tree at one end and the probable loss of my car’s
transmission at the other. And the
parade was about to start.
Pause with me and image the following scenes transpiring
simultaneously, in slow motion, with no sound: Jonah is bouncing in obvious
distress, Missy’s buried herself under a blanket in the living room (to avoid
detection), I’m running wildly out the door of the bus to unhook the car, and townspeople
in vehicle after vehicle stopping to stare (like they had another choice). Maeryn is happily watching a movie in her
bed, but that’s where the film speed returns to normal and the sound comes back
in.
So, I finally got the car unhooked, tow bar stowed, and the
car out of the way. This only frees up
one lane, but it’s enough to direct traffic around, one lane at a time. The road cleared, I’m able to back the bus
up, get it turned and out of the travel lanes.
After extracting Missy from her blanket of embarrassment and after a few
arguments (due mostly to my embarrassment), we were hooked back up and our way
back to the interstate by another route.
When we finally found an appropriate spot for Jonah to, um,
take care of business in the woods, he informed us he couldn’t do it; he was
happy to watch the movie with Maeryn until we got to a better place. In his defense, there was a small fiasco with
a vision-blocking blanket and having to squat at the side of the road.
All in all, it was a … memorable trip.
For more information on our towing setup, see the pictures
below.
The whole system
assembled. You can see the tail lights
on top of Sally.
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1 comment:
This sounds EXACTLY like something that would happen to us. :(
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