国产吃瓜黑料

GET MORE WITH OUTSIDE+

Enjoy 35% off GOES, your essential outdoor guide

UPGRADE TODAY

Don鈥檛 panic when things go south.
Don鈥檛 panic when things go south. (Photo: JJAG Media)

When Shit Goes South on the Road

In the face of unexpected pitfalls, you learn that it鈥檚 not about the problems you encounter鈥攊t鈥檚 how you deal with them

Published: 
Don鈥檛 panic when things go south.
(Photo: JJAG Media)

New perk: Easily find new routes and hidden gems, upcoming running events, and more near you. Your weekly Local Running Newsletter has everything you need to lace up! .

Since the day we purchased Artemis, the Airstream, people have repeatedly聽told us that trailers are second only to boats when it comes to聽repair costs and maintenance headaches. The day we picked her up, a hose clamp came loose, which sent water trickling from the fresh tank and the previous owner scrabbling beneath the shower to stanch the leak. 鈥淚f you鈥檙e not a handyman, you will be,鈥 he said, once he鈥檇 stopped the drip. 鈥淭here鈥檚 always something to fix.鈥

Almost two years later, we鈥檝e had a few issues, but nothing that seriously聽slowed us down. Until last week.

We鈥檝e spent the last few weeks flying around the country for work, so picking up Artemis where we鈥檇 stashed her in Santa Fe felt like a homecoming. Jen was lucky enough to draw an elk tag in the Gila Wilderness this year, which meant we were in store for some quiet camping and dark skies. All we had to do was hook up, drive south, find a site, and relax. We got about halfway through that list before plans rattled apart.

(JJAG Media)

On the 20-mile dirt road into the Gila, Jen, who was driving, slammed on the brakes and jumped out of the truck. 鈥淲e鈥檝e got a problem,鈥 she shouted. A dark trail in the dusty New Mexico roadway led away from Artemis from the fresh water tank, which had sprung a leak. By the time I鈥檇 circled the truck and reached her, Jen had her pinky jammed like Hans Brinker in a hole where the plastic drain nozzle of the tank used to live. A kicked-up rock had sheared it clean. About that time, a rancher drove by and slowed. 鈥淭hat鈥檚 you wasting all that water, huh?鈥 he said. 鈥淭rail goes back for miles. Gallons and gallons of water wasted.鈥澛

The rancher drove away, and Jen and I hemmed and hawed and yelled at each other briefly. We didn鈥檛 know what else to do. Without fresh water, the hunt鈥攁nd our quiet time鈥攚as over before it began, but we had no spare plug and no apparent fix. Then, with nothing else to do, Jen kept the leak plugged with her finger, and I rooted furiously through the cabinets in the trailer. Eventually I fashioned a duct tape plug for the main leak and whittled a twig to fill the lower pinhole. With a couple of layers of duct tape overtop鈥攁nd a few more passersby to remark on our plight鈥攖he flow was down to a drop or two a minute. Problem聽mostly聽solved.

A friend once told me to never quit an聽endurance race聽before a good night鈥檚 sleep, as sunlight and rest bring clarity. The same holds true for聽Airstreaming.聽

The campsite we鈥檇 scoped in advance was occupied, which meant we had to drive around washboard dirt roads looking for a place to stay. Pushing a 23-foot trailer in and out of rutted two-tracks isn鈥檛 easy, and all I could think about was getting somewhere to stop our fresh water hemorrhage.聽Meanwhile, it had started to rain.

Three more sites we knew were occupied, then we nearly stalled on a steep pitch of slippery mud roads as we headed up to a place we鈥檇 seen but never scouted. Jen gunned it, Artemis swayed like a willow in the wind, and fortunately we made the top of the hill to find an open鈥攁nd lovely鈥攃ampsite.

The fun wasn鈥檛 over. When I spun the propane knob to fire up Artemis, the hiss of leaking gas lead to a couple of rotted-out gaskets, which meant no heat or hot food. I steamed for a minute or two as cold rain throbbed on my bare head. Then, inside the trailer, the weather-beaten roads had twisted a closet hinge so brutally that the wood panel door lay on the bed, clothes strewn like flotsam. In the cold, gray of the fall evening, with nothing else to do, Jen and I poured a bourbon and discussed our hasty, early morning retreat. Without fresh water and fuel, and in the pouring, frigid rain, Artemis seemed like nothing more than an unwieldy tent. With real services three hours away, it seemed we鈥檇 have to pull out at dawn.

(JJAG Media)

A friend once told me to never quit an endurance race before a good night鈥檚 sleep, as sunlight and rest bring clarity. The same holds true for Airstreaming. Dawn cast away the clouds for a flaxen sunrise, which seemed to clear my head. I鈥檓 still no handyman, but I managed to reinforce the fresh tank till it no longer dripped, use copious wraps of electrical tape to choke down the fuel leak to a trickle, and duct tape the closet door shut so it was out of our way. None of it was pretty, but it did the job. No need to drive hours to town and abort our plans.

Jen managed to find and take an elk a few days later, which means we鈥檒l eat well for the year to come. As important, we realized that, with a bit of ingenuity, problems in the field can be solved in the field, at least temporarily. When there鈥檚 no Home Depot around the corner or handyman to call, you make do. Three days after we arrived, the fresh tank was still two-thirds full and the propane was running fine. The lesson: don鈥檛 panic when things go south; just sleep on it, and then start improvising. Also, we鈥檒l carry spare tank drains, hinges, propane fitments, and extra duct and electrical tapes from here forward.

Even after Jen finished the hunt, we stuck around for more quiet time. We even witnessed the blaze of Orionid meteors three black dawns in a row. After we left the Gila, there was a brief moment when I thought, 鈥淒uct tape works fine. Problems fixed.鈥 Then, on Jen鈥檚 prudent urging, I pointed Artemis toward the nearest hardware shop.

Lead Photo: JJAG Media

Popular on 国产吃瓜黑料 Online