There’s little debate that the worst part of living in an RV is dumping the waste-water tanks, which for me means every week or so. And the worst part of the worst part of the camper I temporarily call home is the rusted and stiff lever that manipulates the black-tank valve.
I’m not a praying man, but I mumble for luck every time I pull on that lever. Closing it completely requires herculean effort and a careful, straight-on push — it takes the grip strength of either a real man or a farm woman who does the milking every morning.
Today would be dump day. Opening the balky valve went the way it usually goes. As I began to push it closed, however, I heard a sharp crack and felt the lever go limp.
The valve was stuck in the open position.
On one hand, I thought, that was better than it being stuck closed (on dump day, with a full tank). But as every seasoned RVer knows, leaving the black tank open is a ticket to the dreaded “poop pyramid,” a condition that already existed on this used camper when it arrived on The Mountain. That cost almost $1,000 to correct.
I rolled over on my back, scooted under the belly of the camper and looked up at the corroded cable-and-lever mechanism. I could see that the threaded barrel had broken at the bracket holding the dump levers in place.
Shit.
On closer examination, I discovered that two-thirds of the threads were still intact. That hinted at a temporary fix — intended for adjustment anyway, maybe I could move the nuts on either side of the bracket onto the surviving threads, which might hold it securely where it belongs (and make it possible to close the valve).
So that’s what I did. It works, but now the lever is stiffer than ever.
It’ll have to do until the cabin is plumbed.
Since I spilled the beans about my situation two weeks ago, I’ve received encouragement and support (which I welcome), and I’ve fielded questions (many of which I can’t answer).
Here’s some of what I’ve been seeing in private messages, e-mails and phone calls.
Have you heard from Deb or anyone who knows what’s going on? No — total silence.
Have you filed a missing person report with the cops? No, and I doubt that I will. There’s nothing to be gained by it.
Have you checked obituaries? Yes, every couple of days. Results so far have been negative.
Are you still wearing your wedding ring? Yes. If April 3rd comes ’round (that’d mark two months) and I still haven’t heard from her, I’ll take it off. That’s 18 days from now. I can take a hint.
Are you okay? I’m functioning. Of course, I have good moments and I have bad moments. I remind myself (and I’m reminded by others) that I’m a good man who deserves better than this. I remain optimistic that “better” is in front of me — somewhere.
Don’t worry, you’ll find someone. Now that’s taking things too far. First of all, it presumes that I’m looking. I’m not — frankly, I don’t have another pursuit in me. And second, it fails to consider marketability. At 68, I’m pretty sure I’m past my expiration date. If the right “someone” comes a-callin’ and wants to participate in this life, great, but I’m fine on my own.
My heartfelt thanks to those who keep reading, and especially to the brave few who hang close.
Take care of yourselves, Patriots. Stay calm. Stay sharp. Stay free.
#WiseUp #LibertyOrDeath #Ungovernable