On July 20, 2008 we were seeing the sights around Rapid City, SD. When we returned to the motor home we smelled the acrid smell associated with electrical fires. We noted that nothing inside the motor home was working, the 110 volt outlets were dead and the batteries were loosing their power. I called the maintenance people from Hart Ranch, where we were staying, and they checked the power connection and said it was OK. I then called Dennis RV service; they will be out the next morning. We spent the evening in total darkness and went to bed very early.

July 21, 2008, Dennis checked out our system. The inverter was not functional. Dennis removed the inverter and jury rigged electrical lines so we could have power. He also tried to repair the inverter by replacing a blown fuse; when that failed to work, he said the inverter had been “fried.” We subsequently found several appliances were non-functional; we removed the TVs and found the plugs were OK but the TVs were truly dead. The other appliances we lost were a convection oven (portable), 3 fans, and a bread maker (brand new). To make matters worse the electric toilet would not work and I had to kneel down and turn a knob in the back of the toilet in order to flush - no, we were not having fun. I then called Bonnie at National Interstate to report the loss; she took my information and gave me a claim number.

July 22, 2008, I talked to Jason the bean counter at the insurance company regarding our claim, who promptly told me our disappearing deductible had only one year with no claim because of a replacement of one-half of our windshield a year and 10 months earlier. He went on to say that none of the appliances were covered and they would depreciate all of the affected electrical equipment. I was real happy about this since we had been paying money for replacement coverage on contents. When I asked Jason about this he emailed me the small print stuff in the back of the policy that says these items are only covered in the event of flood, fire or natural disaster! And here I thought they were there to help me.

July 23, 2008, I talked to Jason the Hun regarding the purchase of a new inverter, about how important it was to the overall function of the motor home and our ability to stay in it. Surprisingly, he agreed and approved the purchase. Right after my conversation with Jason Connie received a call from the family that her Uncle Lester had died. We prepared for the trip home to Woonsocket, SD.

July 24, 2008, I called Jason the geek and told him about having to go home for the funeral. We traveled the 300 miles to the farm, traveled another 150 miles to pick up Connie’s parents and sister at the Sioux Falls airport, and prepared for the funeral on Saturday.

July 26, 2008. We attended Lester’s Funeral, a very sad time for our family. Lester was Connie's youngest uncle - a kind, warm, wonderful guy who will be missed. His death leaves a huge void in our family.

July 27, 2008, 2:00 a.m., we woke up to the motor home being buffeted by wind and rain. A loud crashing noise forced me to go outside in torrential wind and rain to discover that our awning was attached to the motor home at the roof line only; the arms were a useless, bent pile of metal. By the light of constant lightning I lassoed the awning and tied it to the car, all the while feeling like Moses parting the Red Sea. That next day we read about the three tornadoes in our area and thanked God we weren’t waking up in Kansas with Toto.

The next few days were spent with family and working on the motor home. The new inverter arrived and I installed it, I also bought and installed a surge protector. We are finally able to charge the batteries through the inverter - no more using the portable charger. I was able to duct tape the awning in such a way as to facilitate driving down the highway. I figured 80 mile an hour duct tape was sufficient.

August 4, 2008. After saying our farewells and returning Connie’s parents and sister to the airport in Sioux Falls, we headed west. I called Jason the jackal regarding the awning damage, he said to call the main number and report the incident; I called and got another claim number. I also called Monaco Coach Works in Harrisburg, Oregon. Monaco is the only facility I feel I can trust to fix my motor home and do it right the first time. They were very nice when I described what had happened to us and after a few words with a supervisor we got the go ahead to bring the motor home in for repairs. The other reason to drive the almost 1700 miles to Oregon was the specialty cabinet makers near Eugene who I new had experience in changing motor home cabinetry to fit the new TV’s. This needed to be done because the old tube-type TVs are no longer made and the new ones are wide aspect ratio type (longer and less height).

August 8, 2008, we arrived at the Monaco service facility in Eugene; it was too late to see a service writer or to call that so and so Jason.

August 11, 2008, I talked to a service writer and he came out to the motor home and assessed the damage. I gave him all the insurance information, claim number etc. I then called and updated you know who.

August 13, 2008, Kustom Coach Works came out, took measurements and gave me a bid.

August 14, 2008, I called Jason the rat regarding the bid for the cabinetry and then faxed it to him.

August 15, 2008. Slime Jason called and stated that the cabinetry was too much and that he thought we were just trying to gain from our loss. He also stated that he was going to depreciate the wind sensor to the awning. I was so dumbfounded I told him he was stressing me out, and that any further communication from him should be in writing. It was then I asked myself the question about why I paid insurance - it certainly was not to be told that I was a thief!!

August 18, 2008, I was told by Ronnie at Monaco that the work had not been approved. I called Jason the arrogant little -----; he said he was having a problem with Monaco getting in touch with him so he left a message on Ronnie's phone. Later that day Jason called me about the need to paint portions of the motor home; I explained to his satisfaction that they no longer made the awning arms that were on our coach and the newer style replacement arms were shorter, necessitating a patch and paint job on one side of the motor home. He then stated again that he did not like the cabinetry bid and was going to send an adjuster out to look at the damage. I am beginning to think the insurance company should be paying me for my time.

August 19, 2008. Gene the adjuster came out, took some pictures and left without comment.

August 20, 2008. Jason called with the figures for the awning replacement. He than went on to tell me that he had called Kustom Coach Works and the phone was not working, I later called and found it to be working just fine. My service writer told me he had given a bid for the cabinetry to Jason.

August 25, 2008. I called Jason regarding the cabinetry; he said he needed the bid from Monaco and he was waiting to hear from the adjuster. I am getting confused, how about you? I then talked to Ronnie at Monaco and she said she had spoken to Jason and had given him their bid and he had mentioned to her that he would be sending the adjuster back out to talk to them about the bid. He never mentioned this to me. This is strange because I had asked him why his adjuster had not had the time to get back to him!!!

I am finding it very hard to be civil to someone who has suggested that I may be a thief and has lied to me on more than one occasion.

August 25, 2008, I went to Davis Cabinets and got yet a third estimate for the work, it was less than the other two. I faxed this to the dirt ball.

August 26, 2008, I called Jason the maggot to see if he had gotten the bid from Davis; he said that he had. I then asked him again about the cabinetry work and he then tells me that he needed a notarized affidavit from Monaco regarding the cause of the electrical problems before he could approve anything. Monaco had already told him the cause by phone and told him what the affidavit said; he said he was OK with it, but he needed to see the affidavit itself before he could do anything regarding the cabinetry. Monaco had sent the notarized affidavit in the mail 10 days earlier, does he not believe Monaco? At this point I am thinking maybe he has pigeon holed the affidavit to further drive up my blood pressure. Every time I call he gives me another excuse to delay giving me what I need.

August 27, 2008, I called Jason the weasel and was told that I can’t keep calling him every day; he has told me what he needs and will contact me when he gets it! This is absolutely the last straw. I asked for the claim supervisor's name and number and received both. I then talked to Carry, the little shit’s supervisor, and briefly described my problem with this moron and asked for her help. I also called Gene, the local adjuster who came out and took pictures, and left a message with his secretary to call me. No one has returned my call, big surprise.

The next morning I got a call from Jason the low life, egg sucking poor excuse of a human being, asking “Where do you want me to send the check?” Thank you supervisor!

Hallelujah, we have escaped the clutches of the evil Jason and he has been vanquished from our lives; Ding Dong the witch is dead, etc., etc., etc..

Tuesday the second of September we go to Davis Cabinetry for the final chapter in our “Midsummer’s Nightmare.” By the way, our soon to be ex-insurance company is National Interstate, also known as Great American Assurance, which we got through an agent at Explorer RV Insurance. If you are insured with this company, I suggest you investigate others before you have a claim.

Jason and Gene the insurance adjuster trying to pick my pockets!

July 7, 2008

After a week of meeting old friends and making some new ones, the Escapade is over and we move on heading out to our next destination -- the Black Hills of South Dakota.

As we leave Gillette we are immediately awe struck by the thousands of ore cars and locomotives on the railroad tracks all around the town. At last count we saw eight trains, each one had over one hundred ore cars and four locomotives; some were full and others empty. After a few more miles we saw the reason for all these trains -- a monstrous hole in the ground. The green grasses on the edge of this chasm are in stark contrast to the red earth along the top five or six feet. The rest of this giant pit is black (coal). This scene is the rationale for all the young men we have seen around town, with the soil of hard work on them and their clothes; they are working the mines and energy is coming out of the ground headed for power plants across this nation. I am glad I own shares of Burlington Northern because it looks like the railroads will be busy for a long, long time.

The wind blew us out of Wyoming and continues to whistle through the awnings of our motor home. We are staying for a week at Rush-No-More Campground, about seven miles south of Sturgis, South Dakota, where the infamous motorcycle rally is held every year in August. In just a few weeks from now every wannabe biker wearing dew rags, leather chaps, greasy t-shirt, denim vest, heavy boots and chains attached to wallet and keys will be roaring up and down the road with a similarly dressed female attached to his back, covering up the words on his t-shirt: “If you can read this, the bitch fell off.” I guess you can’t blame her for covering up what he thinks of her. Don’t get me wrong, I dearly love riding bikes, but aspiring to be a bad-ass Hell’s Angel goes against my law and order self. Besides, I don’t like my woman smelling of grease and exhaust.

Drive down the main street of Sturgis and you will see biker bars, tattoo shops and curio shops selling trinkets from china with Harleys, skeletons and slutty women emblazoned thereon. You must get off the main street of town to find that this is really a nice little town with schools, playgrounds and neat, tidy homes. From Main Street to the back streets it seems like a parallel universe showcasing good and evil.

July 7, 2008

After a week of meeting old friends and making some new ones, the Escapade is over and we move on heading out to our next destination -- the Black Hills of South Dakota.

As we leave Gillette we are immediately awe struck by the thousands of ore cars and locomotives on the railroad tracks all around the town. At last count we saw eight trains, each one had over one hundred ore cars and four locomotives; some were full and others empty. After a few more miles we saw the reason for all these trains -- a monstrous hole in the ground. The green grasses on the edge of this chasm are in stark contrast to the red earth along the top five or six feet. The rest of this giant pit is black (coal). This scene is the rationale for all the young men we have seen around town, with the soil of hard work on them and their clothes; they are working the mines and energy is coming out of the ground headed for power plants across this nation. I am glad I own shares of Burlington Northern because it looks like the railroads will be busy for a long, long time.

The wind blew us out of Wyoming and continues to whistle through the awnings of our motor home. We are staying for a week at Rush-No-More Campground, about seven miles south of Sturgis, South Dakota, where the infamous motorcycle rally is held every year in August. In just a few weeks from now every wannabe biker wearing dew rags, leather chaps, greasy t-shirt, denim vest, heavy boots and chains attached to wallet and keys will be roaring up and down the road with a similarly dressed female attached to his back, covering up the words on his t-shirt: “If you can read this, the bitch fell off.” I guess you can’t blame her for covering up what he thinks of her. Don’t get me wrong, I dearly love riding bikes, but aspiring to be a bad-ass Hell’s Angel goes against my law and order self. Besides, I don’t like my woman smelling of grease and exhaust.

Drive down the main street of Sturgis and you will see biker bars, tattoo shops and curio shops selling trinkets from china with Harleys, skeletons and slutty women emblazoned thereon. You must get off the main street of town to find that this is really a nice little town with schools, playgrounds and neat, tidy homes. From Main Street to the back streets it seems like a parallel universe showcasing good and evil.

Spearfish, South Dakota, is the westernmost city of the Black Hills. Small town atmosphere and friendly folks is only part of what makes this our favorite city so far. The D.C. Booth Historic National Fish Hatchery is part of the Spearfish City Park. If you like peaceful streams flowing through green meadows, and ponds full of monster size rainbow trout, this U.S. Fish and Wildlife nature center is a free gem. I did not know that our government was into rearing fish before the turn of the last century and that there was ten Pullman railroad cars converted for the transportation of fingerling trout throughout the nation. These fish cars were abandoned due to road system improvement and the fact that trucks were cheaper.

We dearly love to find little eateries that serve up charm along with good food, and just such a place was Two Pine Lodge off Main Street in Spearfish. A large outdoor patio for dining made our day as a thunderstorm dumped buckets of water on the surrounding vegetation. The food was terrific and the prices were cheaper than ‘Crapplebee’s’.

“Rapid,” as it is called by the locals, is short for Rapid City. Major infrastructure construction has the roads throughout town all cobbled up. On one trip we made a complete loop of town three times due to road closures, only to finally come to the realization that the empty lot in front of the town’s only mall is where a Dairy Queen once was. No Blizzard fix for us.

Rapid is a very nice Midwest town, spread out over several miles there are about four different areas and folks are very proud of their particular area. We hope other restaurants in town are as good as the Fire Station in downtown Rapid where we found good food and service and a great outdoor area perfect for people watching. Friendly faces abound here, always there to help you in any way they can which is typical for Dakotans. The tour trolley is $1 for all day; we rode it to get the lay of the land and get some background. Rapid was nearly wiped off the map in 1972 by a sudden, unexpected flood. After burying over 200 dead residents went to work cleaning up and implementing plans to make sure nothing like it ever happened again. Today the areas close to the river are restricted to use as golf courses and parks -- miles of parks.

Initially we thought three weeks would be plenty of time to visit the Black Hills, but, wow, were we wrong! This is beginning to feel like work! But someone has to do it, right?

Hot Springs is a quaint little town squeezed between rock walls. People used to come here to be cured by the “healing” waters, but it appears the only real healing that went on here was to the land owners’ wallets. Today merchants sell Chinese goods and

T-shirts in every little shop in this interesting, historic town. The real gem here is the VA hospital and retirement home, situated above the rest of the town and adjacent to a National Cemetery. The well-kept, manicured yards and buildings here stand in tribute to the much maligned Veteran’s Administration.

Have you ever had several donkey heads sticking through your car’s windows? We were stopped by the side of the road in Custer State Park when these freeloaders decided we should give them the apples that I was cutting up. Connie almost choked one when she tried to role her window up. The donkeys are greedy but harmless -- now that was a fun experience. Later on that day we marveled at the three tunnels on Highway 16A and 87 that look out directly at and perfectly frame Mt Rushmore’s fab four. The tunnels were all one lane and varied in height from 10’ to 12’. Needless to say the tunnels are not RV friendly. At one point we ran into an RVer on his way towards one of the tunnels. I jumped out of the car and waved him down. Lucky for him because he was about to pass the point of no return, but fortunately I was able to flag him down in the only area where he stood a chance of being able to turn around. The poor guy had to unhook his tow vehicle and do a lot of jockeying back and forth on a steeply curved road in order to get turned around, but at least he could do it. If he had gone a short distance further he would have had to back down that steep road for a long way. The signage here is definitely not what it should be, particularly for drivers of oversized vehicles.

While we were visiting the Black Hills we learned of the death of Connie’s uncle Lester. We had planned to visit Lester and the other South Dakota relatives in Woonsocket in another week or so, after we completed our visit to the Black Hills. Losing Uncle Lester, a warm, gentle soul and our personal favorite of all the uncles, was incredibly sad, but it brought Connie’s Dad back to the farm for a visit with his one, remaining brother. We loved connecting with our family in South Dakota, but we have decided we won’t ever do it again in the summertime. NEVER!!!!

No one has ever seen a thunder storm unless they have experienced one in the great Midwest. We have had several during our stay here and the one last night went on from dusk ‘til dawn. I swear that at one point the thunder lasted for ten minutes, and about 10 seconds later it started all over again.

Hold the presses, that last storm was just a precursor of what was about to happen to us at 2:00 A.M. Yes, there is a two o’clock in the morning. We awoke to the sound of high wind and a loud flapping noise. I threw on pants and a shirt and went outside to locate the source of the noise. The second I stepped out of the RV I was instantly wet and having a hard time seeing or standing up because of the high wind. The awning on our RV was whipping up and down like a giant serpent, and lightning was dancing all around me, adding a surreal look to the scene. It was then I saw a vision of me looking like Charleton Heston as Moses in “The Ten Commandments.” Getting hold of myself, I finally realized that the only thing I could do was to move the car close enough so that I could tie the awning to it. The car was the only thing that could possibly hold the awning down so it didn’t rip off the side of the RV. After a quick tie-down job I went back in the coach and tried to get my heart rate down to something under 300!

The next night we witnessed a tornado. Fortunately for us it was a few miles away, but the sight was something akin to Disney’s “The Sorcerer’s Apprentice.” In non-stop fashion, lightning seemed to spin around clouds that were at one instant white and then black and again white. We watched, mesmerized, as it went on and on, and we knew we had witnessed something totally awesome. In the morning we learned that we were in the center of not one, but three tornados around the county. The one we saw was reported to be 200 yards wide and to have stayed on the ground for several minutes. I, for one, am happy to be alive and in one piece, and GET ME OUT OF HERE!!!!!

With the proper amount of duct tape applied to the awnings, we quietly crept away from Woonsocket headed south and west. Entering Nebraska we found humidity and 110 degree weather; this was definitely not enjoyable, especially while spending the night at the ‘Wal-Mart Astoria.’ This was probably one of the hottest and noisiest stops we had ever made, and I shall certainly let Sam know of my displeasure!

At last we made it out of the Nebraska heat but, unfortunately, we found that Colorado was more of the same – heat and humidity. We spent two nights at a state campground on Jackson Lake which was also another unique experience -- I called it ‘West Nile.’ Oh yeah! Have you ever seen mosquito carpet? Mosquito carpet is large spider webs with about a million mosquitoes spread evenly across. As I was removing the spider webs from the sides of the RV I realized the mosquitoes were all alive -- imagine lying there waiting to be the next meal of a spider! Well, I guess everyone has to eat.

Finally, here we are in Idaho traveling the same route the pioneers traveled on their way to Oregon and California. We are going to Oregon hoping to fix our “wagon” at the plant where it was manufactured. Along the way we stopped to tour The National Oregon/California Trail Center in Montpelier, Idaho, a living history museum with beautiful paintings depicting the trials of those brave souls who first journeyed from the east in search of a better life out west.

Spearfish, South Dakota, is the westernmost city of the Black Hills. Small town atmosphere and friendly folks is only part of what makes this our favorite city so far. The D.C. Booth Historic National Fish Hatchery is part of the Spearfish City Park. If you like peaceful streams flowing through green meadows, and ponds full of monster size rainbow trout, this U.S. Fish and Wildlife nature center is a free gem. I did not know that our government was into rearing fish before the turn of the last century and that there was ten Pullman railroad cars converted for the transportation of fingerling trout throughout the nation. These fish cars were abandoned due to road system improvement and the fact that trucks were cheaper.

We dearly love to find little eateries that serve up charm along with good food, and just such a place was Two Pine Lodge off Main Street in Spearfish. A large outdoor patio for dining made our day as a thunderstorm dumped buckets of water on the surrounding vegetation. The food was terrific and the prices were cheaper than ‘Crapplebee’s’.

“Rapid,” as it is called by the locals, is short for Rapid City. Major infrastructure construction has the roads throughout town all cobbled up. On one trip we made a complete loop of town three times due to road closures, only to finally come to the realization that the empty lot in front of the town’s only mall is where a Dairy Queen once was. No Blizzard fix for us.

Rapid is a very nice Midwest town, spread out over several miles there are about four different areas and folks are very proud of their particular area. We hope other restaurants in town are as good as the Fire Station in downtown Rapid where we found good food and service and a great outdoor area perfect for people watching. Friendly faces abound here, always there to help you in any way they can which is typical for Dakotans. The tour trolley is $1 for all day; we rode it to get the lay of the land and get some background. Rapid was nearly wiped off the map in 1972 by a sudden, unexpected flood. After burying over 200 dead residents went to work cleaning up and implementing plans to make sure nothing like it ever happened again. Today the areas close to the river are restricted to use as golf courses and parks -- miles of parks.

Initially we thought three weeks would be plenty of time to visit the Black Hills, but, wow, were we wrong! This is beginning to feel like work! But someone has to do it, right?

Hot Springs is a quaint little town squeezed between rock walls. People used to come here to be cured by the “healing” waters, but it appears the only real healing that went on here was to the land owners’ wallets. Today merchants sell Chinese goods and

T-shirts in every little shop in this interesting, historic town. The real gem here is the VA hospital and retirement home, situated above the rest of the town and adjacent to a National Cemetery. The well-kept, manicured yards and buildings here stand in tribute to the much maligned Veteran’s Administration.

Have you ever had several donkey heads sticking through your car’s windows? We were stopped by the side of the road in Custer State Park when these freeloaders decided we should give them the apples that I was cutting up. Connie almost choked one when she tried to role her window up. The donkeys are greedy but harmless -- now that was a fun experience. Later on that day we marveled at the three tunnels on Highway 16A and 87 that look out directly at and perfectly frame Mt Rushmore’s fab four. The tunnels were all one lane and varied in height from 10’ to 12’. Needless to say the tunnels are not RV friendly. At one point we ran into an RVer on his way towards one of the tunnels. I jumped out of the car and waved him down. Lucky for him because he was about to pass the point of no return, but fortunately I was able to flag him down in the only area where he stood a chance of being able to turn around. The poor guy had to unhook his tow vehicle and do a lot of jockeying back and forth on a steeply curved road in order to get turned around, but at least he could do it. If he had gone a short distance further he would have had to back down that steep road for a long way. The signage here is definitely not what it should be, particularly for drivers of oversized vehicles.

While we were visiting the Black Hills we learned of the death of Connie’s uncle Lester. We had planned to visit Lester and the other South Dakota relatives in Woonsocket in another week or so, after we completed our visit to the Black Hills. Losing Uncle Lester, a warm, gentle soul and our personal favorite of all the uncles, was incredibly sad, but it brought Connie’s Dad back to the farm for a visit with his one, remaining brother. We loved connecting with our family in South Dakota, but we have decided we won’t ever do it again in the summertime. NEVER!!!!

No one has ever seen a thunder storm unless they have experienced one in the great Midwest. We have had several during our stay here and the one last night went on from dusk ‘til dawn. I swear that at one point the thunder lasted for ten minutes, and about 10 seconds later it started all over again.

Hold the presses, that last storm was just a precursor of what was about to happen to us at 2:00 A.M. Yes, there is a two o’clock in the morning. We awoke to the sound of high wind and a loud flapping noise. I threw on pants and a shirt and went outside to locate the source of the noise. The second I stepped out of the RV I was instantly wet and having a hard time seeing or standing up because of the high wind. The awning on our RV was whipping up and down like a giant serpent, and lightning was dancing all around me, adding a surreal look to the scene. It was then I saw a vision of me looking like Charleton Heston as Moses in “The Ten Commandments.” Getting hold of myself, I finally realized that the only thing I could do was to move the car close enough so that I could tie the awning to it. The car was the only thing that could possibly hold the awning down so it didn’t rip off the side of the RV. After a quick tie-down job I went back in the coach and tried to get my heart rate down to something under 300!

The next night we witnessed a tornado. Fortunately for us it was a few miles away, but the sight was something akin to Disney’s “The Sorcerer’s Apprentice.” In non-stop fashion, lightning seemed to spin around clouds that were at one instant white and then black and again white. We watched, mesmerized, as it went on and on, and we knew we had witnessed something totally awesome. In the morning we learned that we were in the center of not one, but three tornados around the county. The one we saw was reported to be 200 yards wide and to have stayed on the ground for several minutes. I, for one, am happy to be alive and in one piece, and GET ME OUT OF HERE!!!!!

With the proper amount of duct tape applied to the awnings, we quietly crept away from Woonsocket headed south and west. Entering Nebraska we found humidity and 110 degree weather; this was definitely not enjoyable, especially while spending the night at the ‘Wal-Mart Astoria.’ This was probably one of the hottest and noisiest stops we had ever made, and I shall certainly let Sam know of my displeasure!

At last we made it out of the Nebraska heat but, unfortunately, we found that Colorado was more of the same – heat and humidity. We spent two nights at a state campground on Jackson Lake which was also another unique experience -- I called it ‘West Nile.’ Oh yeah! Have you ever seen mosquito carpet? Mosquito carpet is large spider webs with about a million mosquitoes spread evenly across. As I was removing the spider webs from the sides of the RV I realized the mosquitoes were all alive -- imagine lying there waiting to be the next meal of a spider! Well, I guess everyone has to eat.

Finally, here we are in Idaho traveling the same route the pioneers traveled on their way to Oregon and California. We are going to Oregon hoping to fix our “wagon” at the plant where it was manufactured. Along the way we stopped to tour The National Oregon/California Trail Center in Montpelier, Idaho, a living history museum with beautiful paintings depicting the trials of those brave souls who first journeyed from the east in search of a better life out west.