Willie Nelson - On the Road Again

On the road again…

Goin’ places that we’ve never been,
Seein’ things we may never see again…
And after the past few days, I can honestly say—we really couldn’t wait to get back on the road again.

First things first—thank you.

To everyone who called, texted, prayed, suggested, and walked this little roadside adventure with us—we felt it. There’s something humbling about being broken down and realizing just how many people are willing to lean in and help you figure it out.

And figure it out we did.

Somewhere between frustration and determination, I’ve now got a crash course in turbos, variable vane actuators, boost pressure, and enough system parameters to make me dangerous at a truck stop conversation.

It started with Bob and Karen—planting that first seed of an idea about what might be causing the loss of power. Then came Travis, the mobile mechanic from Rush Truck Centers, who showed up with the right software and the know-how to dig deeper. He pinpointed the real issue—a split hose. Not dramatic. Not obvious. But enough to bring everything to a crawl.

From there, it became a team effort.

Dave and JJ rolled up their sleeves and helped me get a modified hose assembly installed. Chris—once again—extended more than just shop space at Sugar Creek Truck Lube & Roadside Service, giving us the room (and grace) to work through it all without pressure.

And then there’s Rubio over at Sooner Muffler Shop—the guy who took my “well, what if we tried this…” idea and turned it into something real, functional, and road-ready.

That’s the thing about this journey—it may look like a solo drive down the highway, but it’s anything but. It’s people. It’s community. It’s unexpected stops that remind you how much good is still out there.

And now?

Now we’re rolling again.

The engine’s breathing right, the power is back where it belongs, and the road ahead looks a whole lot better than it did a few days ago.

Next stop… well, we’ll see. But one thing’s for sure—

We’re back where we belong. 🚍

Prichardish Is Alive and Well

Now that’s what I’m talking about.

Prichardish thinking at its finest—simple, practical, and built to work, not just look good on paper.

The solution?
Don’t fight the hose… replace the weak link entirely.

Instead of chasing another rubber failure waiting to happen, you stepped back and said, “What actually fits this job?” High temp. High volume. Not much pressure. That’s not a job for a fragile piece of hose—that’s a job for something solid.

So you made it solid.

A metal pipe. Muffler-style. One clean bend instead of two. Cut out the failed section, bridge the gap, and eliminate the problem instead of babysitting it.

That’s not just a repair—that’s an upgrade.

All it took was finding the right place—like Sooner Muffler Shop—and turning an idea into something you can bolt in place and trust going down the road.

There’s a certain satisfaction in that kind of fix. No guessing. No hoping it holds. Just a solution you can look at and say, “Yeah… that’ll do.”

And you’re right—your father would be proud.

Because that kind of thinking?
You don’t learn it from a manual.

You earn it. 🚍

Prichardish

That says it all right there.

Prichardish isn’t just a way of fixing things—it’s a way of thinking. It comes from a time when you didn’t have the option to outsource every problem. If something broke, you figured it out. If you didn’t have the exact part, you made one. If Plan A failed, you didn’t complain—you built Plan B out of whatever was in reach.

That’s what your dad handed down.

Not just skills—but confidence. The kind that says, “I may not know the answer yet… but I know I can find it.” The kind that turns a breakdown behind a gas station into a fabrication project. The kind that looks at a split hose and sees a better design instead of a dead end.

And the best part?

You carried it forward.

Susan, Tillie, Dale and Dakota iin Sprit.

Traveling in Gus da Bus

Well… Here We Are

 Well… Here We Are

So here we are—parked, settled, and for the moment, calling Sugar Creek Truck Lube & Roadside Service home.

Not exactly the destination we had in mind when we started east, but sometimes the road writes its own story.

And in the middle of all this uncertainty, something worth pausing for—people.

Chris and Dave have gone above and beyond. Not only are they working with us through the mechanical mystery, but they’ve also allowed us to stay right here on site, living in the RV while we sort things out. No scrambling for a hotel, no added stress of figuring out where to go next—just a place to be.

I can’t say enough about Dave’s ability and willingness to help. The man has stuck with us, digging in, thinking it through, and treating this like more than just another job. And Chris—opening the door and saying, “Stay here, no charge”—that kind of generosity sticks with you.

It’s easy to get caught up in the frustration when plans fall apart. The miles we didn’t make. The destination we didn’t reach—like Downstream Casino Resort still waiting somewhere up the road.

But moments like this are a reminder… the journey isn’t just about where you’re going. It’s about who shows up along the way.

And right now, we’ve been shown a whole lot of kindness in a place we never planned to stop.

Stay Tuned…

So for now, we wait.
We learn.
And we take it one wrench-turn, one phone call, and one cup of coffee at a time in the morning and 1 bottle of wine at night.

The road may have paused us here at Sugar Creek Truck Lube & Roadside Service… but the story is far from over.

Stay tuned—same channel, same time (well… almost)—for the continuing saga of DaGirls RV. 🚍

Oh, but wait. What was the problem ? The High Temperature Hose from the Charge Air Cooler to the Inlet Manifold to the Engine. Think of it as a 3 inch Radiator Hose type material.

Remember double click to enlarge the images

Thank you for signing your comments

Susan, Tillie, me and Dakota in Sprit in Gus da Bus

Continuing East… or Just Sitting Still?

So… continuing the trip east?

Well, that depends on your definition of “continuing.”

As Susan and I sit here at Sugar Creek Truck Lube & Roadside Service, it feels a little less like forward progress and a little more like we’re up the creek… and yes, without much of a paddle.

After the first mobile mechanic didn’t exactly move the needle, it was back on us—again—to figure out the next step. There’s something about RV life that turns you into part traveler, part mechanic, and part problem-solver whether you signed up for it or not.

So, Plan B (or maybe Plan D at this point).

I tracked down a shop about six miles away that said, “Sure, we can take a look.” Now, six miles doesn’t sound like much—unless your top speed is somewhere between 10 and 20 MPH. Let’s just say it was a slow-motion parade no one signed up for.

We made it. Barely.

Got parked, settled in, and decided to let the problem wait until morning—because sometimes the best tool in your toolbox is a little daylight and a fresh cup of coffee.

Morning came, and Dave and I got to work. We dug in, checked everything we could think of, went over it piece by piece. Nothing obvious. No flashing signs. No “aha” moment.

After some head scratching and a fair amount of “what are we missing?”, I made the call to Rush Truck Centers. A deposit later, we had a qualified mobile mechanic on the way to do a proper diagnostic.

Now we’re getting somewhere… right?

Well, sort of.

After a few phone calls and walking through the symptoms, he comes back with this:

“There’s a leak.”

A leak?

Dave and I looked at each other.
A leak where?

We’d already been over that engine like a couple of detectives at a crime scene. No puddles. No obvious drips. No hissing sounds jumping out at us.

Nothing.

And yet… something was definitely wrong.

At this point, it’s starting to feel like one of those mysteries where the answer is right in front of you—you just don’t know where to look yet.

So here we sit. Waiting, learning, and being reminded (once again) that this lifestyle isn’t just about the destinations like Downstream Casino Resort… it’s about the unexpected stops along the way.

Some planned.
Some… not so much.

But one thing’s for sure—we’re going to find that leak

Now what ? Well currently we are awaiting locating a replacement hose. Word is none is available and will not be for awhile. But hey you know me, the McGiver of Alfa's right ?

Continuation later on.

Susan, Tillie, me and Dakota in Sprit 

Traveling in  Gus da Bus

Continuing the Drive

Continuing the Drive… Well, Not as Planned

The goal was simple enough—475 miles in about 10 hours. A good, solid push with the promise of Downstream Casino Resort waiting somewhere at the end of it.

And for a while, it was going exactly as planned.

We had knocked out about 250 miles, feeling pretty good about the day. Somewhere along Interstate 40, near Exit 101, we did a routine driver switch. Susan took the wheel, and for about two miles everything felt normal.

Then it happened.

Heading uphill near Exit 106, Susan calmly says, “We’ve got no horsepower.” Not the kind of sentence you want to hear when you’re in a fully loaded motorhome climbing a grade. Sure enough, we were losing speed—fast.

She did exactly right and eased us over to the shoulder.

Now it was my turn.

I climbed out, did the classic roadside inspection—you know, the one where you look very serious and hope something obvious jumps out at you. But nothing did. No leaks, no broken parts hanging down, no dramatic signs saying, “Here’s your problem!”

Back inside, I gave it a try. Nothing.

Well… not nothing. Enough to limp.

We managed to crawl our way to Exit 108 and found a spot to park behind a Conoco. Not exactly where we planned to spend part of our day, but at that point, it felt like a small victory just to be off the highway.

And that’s when the “fun” started.

First step—check for codes. Nothing.
Second step—look again for anything obvious. Still nothing.
Third step—call Family RV Association Assist.

Now… what I could say about that call would take the rest of the evening—and probably part of tomorrow. Let’s just say it didn’t go the way you hope those calls go.

So, Plan B.

I reached out to Bob Palmer from Bob's Diesel. That one phone call turned into a masterclass in roadside diagnostics. Step by step, question by question, I learned more in that conversation than I expected—and honestly, that story deserves its own chapter in the next blog.

But for now, we had a new mission: get to a shop.

We found one about six miles away. Sounds easy, right?

Except when your top speed is somewhere between 10 and 20 MPH.

So there we were, doing the slow crawl of humility—hazard lights on, praying for patience from every driver behind us, inching our way those seven miles like it was seventy.

And right in the middle of all that, my phone rings.

It’s Rudy.

“Why are you still sitting in the same location?”

Because, my friend… today, the road decided it had other plans for us. 

DaGirls Rv in Gus da Bus

Plan – Onward to Downstream Casino… Maybe

Plan – Onward to Downstream Casino… Maybe

Distance: 475 miles.
Can we do it? Well… that depends on how much coffee, determination, and good humor we can pack into one day. As always, we’ll see what happens—and more importantly, where we decide to stop when common sense finally taps us on the shoulder.

But before we get too far down the road, I forgot to circle back on Rudy and Beata’s Jeep situation. Turns out, there’s some good news in the middle of all that mechanical drama. A deal was worked out for a used/rebuilt rear axle along with the labor to get it installed. If everything lines up—parts arrive on time, no surprises in the shop—they could be rolling again by Tuesday, May 5th. That’s the kind of update you like to hear when your home has wheels and your plans depend on them.

Now… back to us.

Why in the world are we even considering pushing close to 500 miles in a single day?

Short answer? Because sometimes the road isn’t just about distance—it’s about timing, weather, and a little bit of “let’s just get there.” There are days when 200 miles feels like a full journey, and then there are days like this, where you look at the map, take a sip of coffee, and say, “Well… it’s doable.”

Part of it is the pull of the destination—Downstream Casino Resort—sitting up there like a reward at the end of a long stretch of highway. Full hookups, a place to rest, maybe even a decent meal that doesn’t come out of the RV freezer. That alone can make the miles seem shorter… at least in theory.

And part of it is just the rhythm of this lifestyle. When you live on the road, you learn to read the day. Weather looks good. Roads are clear. Spirits are high. Those are the days you stretch it a little. Not recklessly—but intentionally.

Of course, we also know better. Four hundred seventy-five miles in an RV isn’t the same as hopping in a car and stepping on the gas. Fuel stops take longer. Stretch breaks matter more. And somewhere around mile 300, you start having honest conversations with yourself.

“Do we keep going… or do we find a nice spot and call it a win?”

That’s the beauty of this journey—plans are flexible, expectations are negotiable, and the destination… well, sometimes it changes.

So, onward we go. Maybe to Downstream. Maybe not.

Either way, the road’s got a say in it too.

What's the next word ? Photos of course:

Susan, Tilly and me, and always with Dakota Leading the way.

DaGirls Rv riding in Gus da Buss

Life's Little Turns

Thank you all for signing your name at the end.

As we rolled out and pointed the nose east, it didn’t quite feel like a clean departure. Rudy and Beata were still behind us—literally—waiting on a tow truck instead of chasing horizon lines. Arrangements had been made for a repair shop and an RV spot for a few days, but that didn’t make the goodbye any easier. This wasn’t just another stop along the way—this was our farewell supper, our last shared laugh, and yes… one final glass of wine that lingered a little longer than usual.

Rudy called later with an update. The tow truck had arrived, though it sounded like it had somewhere more important to be, because they were having a hard time keeping up with it. That alone paints a picture. Still, by the time we heard back again, all was well. Now it was just a waiting game for answers come Wednesday. If you’ve ever traveled in an RV caravan, you know—when one rig has trouble, everybody feels it.

Meanwhile, we pressed on toward Sky City Hotel and Casino. And here’s a little road tip worth its weight in diesel: for $19 (and yes, you have to say you saw the sign), you get a pull-through site with full hookups. Not a bad deal in today’s world where some places charge you extra just to breathe their air.

After getting settled, we headed indoors to the restaurant—because let’s be honest, nobody felt like cooking. We split a slab of ribs, added French fries and sweet potato fries (because balance, right?), and called it a feast. And it was. Plenty of food, good flavor, and the kind of meal that reminds you that sometimes simple is best—especially after a long day on the road.

Morning came early, as it tends to do when you’ve got miles to cover. By 7:20, we were rolling again. Destination: Amarillo. About 350 miles ahead of us.

We decided to switch things up and reserved a spot at a Love's Travel Stop RV site instead of the usual Benevolent and Protective Order of Elks lodge stay. Sometimes convenience wins, and this was one of those times.

And along the way? Well… let’s just say that parts of New Mexico and the Texas stretch we traveled don’t exactly overwhelm you with scenery. There’s a whole lot of “not much” out there. But even in the wide-open nothingness, there’s something to be said for the journey—the hum of the road, the quiet moments, and the stories still unfolding one mile at a time.

Till next time this is DaGirls in Gus da Bus signing off.

New Adventures but Not Who you expected

One Thing I would ask everyone who leads a comment. 

Please sign your name to your comment, if you would so please.

Our day began, as many responsible adult days do, with the ever-thrilling adventure of annual doctor visits. Susan and I met our new physician for our yearly wellness check—always an interesting experience when both sides are quietly wondering, “What are we going to find today?” Thankfully, everything checked out just fine, with a little back-and-forth conversation to keep things interesting and remind us we’re not quite as young as we used to be—but not as bad off as we feared either.

We rolled back into the RV right at 0930, and in what can only be described as a minor miracle in RV travel time, we were on the road by 1013. That alone deserved a small celebration.

Rudy, Beata, and Henna took the lead, guiding our little caravan eastbound on I-40 with our sights set on Sky City Hotel and Casino at Exit 102. The plan was simple—always a dangerous phrase in RV life. Two stops before leaving the interstate: a quick driver exchange in Gus da Bus, followed by a refuel in Milan, NM. Smooth. Organized. Predictable.

Or so we thought.

The first stop went according to plan… mostly. As I stepped out of the coach, I was greeted not by the peaceful hum of travel, but by smoke curling up from Rudy’s Jeep’s rear tire. Now, smoke is one of those things you never want to see coming from anything you own—especially when you’re far from home and towing your life behind you.

After giving things time to cool down (and giving our nerves a moment to do the same), we took a closer look. That’s when we noticed the tire sitting at an angle that no tire should ever consider adopting. It was clear—we had reached one of those crossroads moments.

The kind where the road splits not just geographically, but logistically.

Instead of continuing on with us, Rudy and Beata made the call to head into Gallup to find a park and, more importantly, a trustworthy automotive shop. It’s never easy splitting up mid-journey, especially when the circumstances aren’t exactly ideal. But after sharing a cup of coffee and a brownie—because all major decisions should involve chocolate—we said our goodbyes and pointed our rig eastward.

Our next stop was the Petro station in Milan. Simple plan: refuel and keep rolling. Can you say… OUCH? Let’s just say the fuel pump reminded us that traveling freedom still comes with a price tag—and it’s not getting any smaller.

Through it all, one lesson stood tall above the rest: always be prepared for the unexpected. In RV life, the unexpected isn’t a possibility—it’s part of the itinerary.

We finally pulled into Sky City around 4:30 New Mexico time, grateful to have made it safely, even if the day didn’t quite follow the script we had written that morning.

And Rudy and Beata?

Well, they’re currently weighing their options—quite literally—trying to decide which direction to go next, knowing a new (or at least new-to-them) axle is in their future. It’s one of those situations where there’s no easy answer, just the next right step.

Stay tuned… because if there’s one thing we’ve learned, the story is never over—it just takes a detour.

Susan, Tilly, me and like always Dakota over-seeing us