The next day we drove through Death Valley and stopped at the visitors bureau in Furnace Creek, which gave our "foursome" an idea of what the desert really is like. There is a rugged beauty there, if you just stop and look for it.

On the way to Scotty's Castle, we had just passed the 2,000-foot elevation mark and there was a loud roar and a cloud of steam. I quickly pulled over to the side. When I got out, I was greeted by the sight of nice green anti-freeze coming out of my right exhaust pipe. A blown head gasket. I checked the oil and found it was clear -- thank goodness for small mercies. But how to get help? Well, I hitched a ride to Scotty's Castle where I phoned my road-service provider. Once I got through to the right person, it was a matter of explaining where I was. "What road are you on?" asked the voice at the other end of the line. "The road through Death Valley, about 12 to 15 miles from Scotty's Castle, towards Furnace Creek" I replied. "What road number is it?" asked the voice. "I don't know, but it is the only road through here" I reply. "We have to have the road number" says the voice, so I stretch the phone cord and look around the corner at a map which tells me it is Hwy. 267. I tell the voice this, and add that that is in the Nevada section but that we are in California. They have to know the right number, so I put down the phone and go over to a nearby souvenir stand and ask what road it is.

Eventually, I get the information and relay it to the voice. I am asked how big my unit is, how many people are with the unit, and after considerable humming and hawing, with me asking to be towed to Tonopah (77 miles north), I am told they are not sure where to send a tow truck from -- perhaps from Lone Pine, which is well over 100 miles away, or Furnace Creek, but that wrecker may not be big enough to handle us. Finally I am told they have a wrecker on its way from Beatty, which is only about 50 miles. So I get out on the road and try for a ride back to our group. Not much luck -- nobody wants to pick up a hitch-hiker. But finally, I asked someone stopped to make a turn onto the road if they would give me a ride back to our disabled motorhome. They did.

I think we had lunch (I was so upset I don't remember) while we waited for the tow truck to arrive. In a little while, I see one coming, but think to myself, "this one is not for us, it's too small!" But the truck pulled up in front of us and, not only was it many years old, dilapidated, with a badly worn rubber sling, it was also driven by two fellas that I felt only lacked big hats and a bandoliers. After some discussion, I found they did not have the proper wrench with which to drop my driveshaft -- and to tow the rig without disconnecting the driveshaft would probably ruin my transmission. In addition, they would not tow me to Tonopah, but only back to Beatty. I asked if there were qualified repair shops there that could fix my engine. They replied that they were all closed down, but they had a shop and could probably get me back on the road in a few days. It sounded like all the horror stories I had read about in RV magazines. And without disconnecting my driveshaft, I told them, I wasn't going anywhere. They said they would tell my service provider and have them send someone else.

After they left, my friend Keith looked at me and asked "Now what?" I said I didn't trust the fellas to call, and I was going to hike back to Scotty's Castle and make another call. He decided to come with me, and we stood for a long time waiting for a ride. Finally we got back to the phone, and I went through the whole rigmarole again. Finally "the voice" tells me they have a wrecker coming from Indian Springs, about 30 or 40 miles from Las Vegas. I am then advised they will be there in a couple of hours. I hang up the phone, turn to Keith and say, "Two hours? That's nearly 150 miles so they would need a helicopter to get here that fast!"

I think we had supper. The sun went down. The moon came up. We sat and waited. And waited. And waited. Finally, we took to looking through binoculars to see if any vehicles were headed our way. You could see vehicle headlights coming over the humps in the road for probably 30 or 40 miles, but they all seemed to disappear before they got to us. Finally, around 8:30, we saw a vehicle with what appeared to be clearance lights, so I announce that the truck is finally coming. Nobody believes me. Five or 10 minutes later, the tow truck pulls up -- to loud cheering!

The driver said he was told we were at Devils Hole, but didn't find us there so he kept coming. When he didn’t fine us at Furnace Creek, he continued on to Stovepipe Wells, where he phoned our service provider and was told again that we were at Devils Hole. He asked where we phoned from and when he was told Scotty's Castle, he told "the voice" that he had another 40 miles to drive and hung up. He dropped the driveshaft, got us all hooked up and away we went. After much consideration, we decided to go back to Pahrump rather than on to Tonopah. We could not face a number of nights in the run-down campground we had previously visited. The tow-truck driver said we had made a wise decision. Seems there is next to nothing in the way of repair facilities in Tonopah, and there were more places in Pahrump. In addition, the RV park we stayed at in Pahrump was part of a RV Club we belong to, and they had very nice facilities and friendly people.

End of story? No, not by a long shot. It was around midnight when we got back to Pahrump, about 12 hours after our little mishap. While backing us in to a parking place, the wrecker driver forgot to extend his boom and we lost a headlight ring. Another $50 down the drain. And in the morning, when we tried to find out what we could expect in the way of repair shops, we found out that not only is it Sunday morning, it is also a long weekend. No help until Tuesday!

Come Tuesday, we discovered the "preferred" shop is too busy to help, but another good one was able to look after us. Another wrecker trip, another scary ride. The wrecker was too small and his front wheels kept lifting off the ground, making it impossible to turn a corner. After repositioning our vehicle from the slide-out boom to the sling (and bending my driving lights in the process), he got us the repair shop.

Bad news. The shop owner showed the crack in the cylinder wall. I almost cried. A new engine! I decided I didn't want to take a chance on a used engine with no warranty, so that meant a new one. Then when the order was put in, the numbers on my engine indicated that this was a heavy-duty truck engine, not just an engine like you would get for a pickup truck. So away to the bank I go with my two credit cards to get the cash. (They didn't take plastic at the shop) Had to put $3,000 down and pay the rest when the job was done, in a bout a week.

Now, when you have guests that have to get back to Canada to take a plane home on a certain day, and that day is fast approaching, quick plans are called for. How about a van rental? Fine, except the charge would be $135 a day for each of the first two days, plus, plus, plus, seeing it’s a one-way trip. And by the way, you can't take it in to Canada, and we don't want you to leave it at the border, so just leave it in Seattle. Well, how about a plane? That meant flying from Las Vegas to Vancouver, and the air fares were under $150 each, so that looked possible -- but how to get from the airport in Vancouver to our home on Vancouver Island? And then from there to the airport on the day of departure? More complications.

After much deliberation, we discovered the answer -- spread a little sweetness, a bonus for getting the motorhome on the road by the weekend. Yes, it was done by 10 p.m. Friday night. We drove it from the repair shop to the campground where we would stay the night, then pick up the "foursome" who were staying in a motel. Except -- when we pulled in to the park, the engine died. We got it started but it would hardly run. In the morning it started okay, and we took it back to the shop. They adjusted the carburetor and away we went. Picked up our group, went to the store to buy some groceries, and would you believe, it did the same thing again. Once we got it started again, it blew black smoke like crazy. Back to the repair shop. Take the carb off, change the needle and seat, re-adjust it and it runs like a dream. We even drove around in it with the owner of the shop and it performed beautifully. He waves us good-bye, and we are gone! North up Hwy. 95 through Tonopah to Hawthorne, where we start looking for a place for the night. Our schedule is really out the window now! But what's this? The engine misses a bit and it blows some black smoke, and after a short time clears itself. No decent campground in town, but there is a nice one at Walker Lake, so we settle down there for the night.

Back on the road in the morning, fill up with gas and you wouldn't believe it, but the problem has returned. Must be a sticky needle valve, so in Reno we stop and buy some STP gas treatment. Give it a double dose, maybe that will fix it! Wrong again! But we carry on -- we have that deadline ahead of us. On Hwy. 140, west of Lakeview, OR, we come across an RV park that has minimal facilities, but the prices are right (and after spending $5,000 for a new engine, this was a must!) and they have a huge hot pool. A natural sulphur spring sure helps you relax.

Another day, and closer to home. But the problem is still there, and now the exhaust pipe is coming loose and making a roaring noise. Oh well, Bend, OR is not far now, so we will get things fixed up there. Muffler shop is too busy, so I stop and buy some parts and a deep socket and do it myself. So much for the noise. We fill up with gas, and carry on north. But the engine is missing, the black smoke is thicker and this time it does not quit after driving a mile or two. We turn around and head back to Bend, to the GM dealer. "You need a new carb." I figured that, but the price sounds a bit high. Well, that price is for a re-built and we can have one here for you tomorrow. Sorry, we have a deadline to make. We chug and splutter out of town and once on the highway again, driving at 50, the engine smoothes out after about five or 10 miles.

At Ellensburg, WA, we find a nice campground and feel happy that the old beast is finally running nicely. Then in the morning we fill with gas and it does it again. Not so bad this time, and we hit the road and just push straight on through to Blaine, WA. We fill up with gas there, and head for Canada Customs, but it starts again, worse than ever! I pull up to the Customs booth, and have to shut the engine off so the guy can see us. I say to him "What next? First I blow my engine in Death Valley, and now the carb has packed it in!" So we go through the rigamarole of showing the bills for the engine, and he agrees they were necessary emergency repairs so we don't get stung for duty. All the way to the ferry terminal the engine runs, but not nicely. Coming off the ferry and heading home, it is still acting up, but we pull into the driveway before it dies again.

When we took our rig into the shop, we didn't need a new carb. Turned out the folks in Pahrump had switched a couple of vacuum lines, and when the gas tank was full, raw gas was being sucked right out of the tank and dumped into the base of the carburetor.

Our friends went home to England and showed their videos and photos to all their friends there, and people just couldn’t believe we did so much in so short a time. Back there, a trip of a couple of hundred miles is a big deal.

Have we lost our enthusiasm for travelling? No, but we sold old Lazy Daze, after getting it all fixed up like new, and plan to buy a bigger one -- just like we almost did before our "Trip to Remember."