Having a BLAST!

Well, it's the Tuesday after Louis' debut at a Scotty event in Salisbury, MA and, boy, did we have a blast. LITERALLY! But, I'll get to that in a second. It's important to understand that I am an incredibly organized individual (at least I fancy myself that way). Whether building a house for incredibly picky clients or working with a tight schedule on a TV show, I learned from day one in my career to take detailed notes, never let my list get out of reach and to anticipate disaster long before it hits. When it came to restoring this little camper then taking it on the road again, I approached the tasks with similar detail and organization. Even days before my trip north I added to my list (already a dedicated program on my computer), which includes things like "THE DAY BEFORE/BEFORE PULLING AWAY FROM HOME (safety chain check, door locked on trailer, hitch locked, lights hooked up, etc.) but last week, for some reason, I left off two major items that would prove invaluable at the end of my camping excursion. The drive from New York through Connecticut and Massachusetts to Salisbury State Reservation in the northern most corner of Mass was beautiful. The weekend was what I had expected and then some. Not only were Scotty's of all shapes and sizes out in full force, but teardrops, Shasta's and other vintage beauties were out to show off for the weekend. Needless to say, a wonderful time was had by all. It was wonderful to finally see these trailers in person, as I'd only had my HiLander to compare any of them to. When I studied Art History in college the best education for me was when I traveled to Europe and engrossed myself in everything art and history. Teachers are fantastic, clearly, but I love hands on, deep-absorption learning. Same goes for rebuilding a Scotty. Because I plan on taking Louis down to the bones and redoing him completely again, I now have extra insight into what others have done. Listening, watching and just looking proved to be an incredible education. So, the weekend was a great success on many levels. Sunday morning I loaded up, said goodbye to my new friends and began the 240 mile journey home. After a few cars passed giving me the thumbs up and shouting what a great trailer I had, I was feeling pretty good. Then someone drove by, rolled down their window and yelled that the drivers side tire was low. No sooner did they pass, the tire blew and shred into a thousand pieces. Luckily I was close enough to an exit I could limp off and rolled into a CLOSED gas station. Yes. Little did I know that most of Connecticut closes on Sunday. After calling my insurance company, the logical thing to do (they said) was leave it and have a towing company pick it up the following day. What I've learned, however, is to triple check my list. I didn't have a spare. I forgot my toolbox at home. I had no way to fix anything. Luckily I printed up the old brochure from the Scotty site and heard from several people at camp how to change a Scotty tire, so think I could've managed, but nonetheless I was ill-prepared and will hopefully never leave home that way again!