Uh Oh!

On Friday, we had a short drive, and it was a good thing.

At one point, Babs needed to go outside . . . or at least I thought she did.  So Don pulled over, I leashed her up, and opened the door.  Or tried to open the door.  It wouldn't budge.

"Don, I can't get the door open," I said.

"What do you mean you can't get the door open?"

"It won't open."

So he came over to see what the problem was.  

He had me get on the walkie talkie to Katie.

"Katie, would you please come to the window?  We can't get the door open."

"You what?  You can't get the door open?"

She came to the window and tried to open the door.  No dice.  We soon figured out that it was not one of the locks nor the handle but instead was a bolt in the door.  Uh oh!  That was going to be a problem.

We decided to try to get to Watson Lake and fix it at the campground.

For some reason, however, Don decided to stop several miles down the road.  I think he just couldn't stand knowing the door wouldn't open.  And besides, it had quit raining.

Katie came back again and they worked on the door for awhile.  Don decided he had to go outside to work on it.  The only way out was through the window.  So, bum shoulder and all, he opened the window above the couch, put his legs through, and jumped out the window.  Good thing he has lost 20 pounds . . . I don't think he would have made it otherwise.

At the same time, some people from North Dakota who were stopped at the same turnout came over to try to help.  They joked that they didn't know what they were doing, but they would lend any assistance they could.  They all talked the problem over, and I began to work on the inside.  

"There has got to be some sort of a nut or allen wrench hole on the handle,"  Don told me.

"There is not one.  It isn't here."

"It has to be there."

"It isn't.  There is not anything on the handle."

"There has to be.  I'll come check on it."

Luckily, one of the North Dakota people had a three-step ladder.  So Don hauled himself back into the RV.  Sure enough, there was no nut or allen wrench hole.  (I love it when I am right, by the way.)  But between him and Katie, they managed to get the lock off and the crazy bolt out. Don opened the door, walked out, and shook the hand of the leader of the North Dakota tour. "Hi.  Good to see you," he said.  

Luckily, the North Dakota people had Loctite that would keep the bolt in place.  Don put it in the lock, and the door is as good as new - we think!

A few chips out of the door jamb later, and we were on our way.  

Nothing like being locked inside the RV . . . at least we had food and a bathroom.