Day 5 - Shark !

 The Infamous Land Shark

Now let me introduce you to the newest threat traveling America’s highways…
The Infamous Land Shark.

At first glance, she appears harmless. Soft fur. Tiny tail. Cute little puppy ears. The kind of face that makes people say, “Awwww.”

Do not be deceived.

What you are actually looking at is a highly trained mobile attack unit disguised as a chocolate Labrador puppy. Experts across the internet commonly refer to puppies in this stage as “land sharks” because of the constant biting and teething behavior.

This particular specimen—known formally as Mocha Teal Prichard—has already demonstrated advanced tactical abilities including:

• Sneak attacks on shoelaces
• Sudden ankle ambushes
• Precision finger nibbles
• High-speed tail wag distraction maneuvers
• Selective hearing when commanded to “drop it”

And much like the legendary shark from the movie Jaws, she patrols quietly… waiting… watching… until the exact moment you relax.

Then—CHOMP.

What makes the Land Shark especially dangerous is that immediately after attacking, she rolls over looking adorable, making prosecution nearly impossible.

Now according to puppy experts and countless exhausted dog owners online, this “land shark phase” is perfectly normal in Labs and other puppies. But knowing that does little to protect your socks, hands, or dangling hoodie strings.

Meanwhile, Tilly continues monitoring the situation closely, apparently unconvinced that adding a miniature furry velociraptor to the RV was a good long-term decision.

Still… as Mocha stretched out there in the grass at Bo Wood COE Park, tail twitching and watching the world go by, it was hard not to smile.

Because even fictional land sharks grow up someday.

At least… that’s what people keep telling us. 🐾🚍

Susan, Tilly, Mocha Teal, me and Dakota in sprit

Settling In

Settling In… One Paw at a Time

We spent two nights at Meramec State Park, and honestly, it turned out to be exactly what we needed—not just a stop, but a chance to slow things down and let everyone… adjust.

Because bringing a new pup into the RV isn’t just an addition—it’s a full-on lifestyle shift.

That first night?
Well, let’s just say there were a few questions rolling around in our heads.

What would Mocha Teal do?
Would she be nervous?
Confused?
Missing what she knew?

And the big one… would anyone get any sleep?

Turns out, Mocha had her own plan.

She settled in… and slept straight through until 5 AM—right about the time I woke up. No drama, no fuss, no “new puppy chaos” like you might expect. Just a quiet reminder that sometimes, they handle change better than we do.

Since then, we’ve been doing what you do—learning each other.

Figuring out routines.
Finding rhythm in a small space.
Sharing the road in a whole new way.

And for the most part, it’s been good. Really good.

Well… for most of us.

Tilly, on the other hand, is not exactly writing a welcome speech just yet.

She’s made it pretty clear this wasn’t her idea. There’s a new energy in her space, a new set of smells, a new personality bouncing around—and she’s still deciding how she feels about all of it.

But if there’s one thing we’ve learned—on the road and in life—it’s this:

Time has a way of working things out.

So we’ll give it time.
Let them find their footing.
Let the pack sort itself out.

And somewhere along the way, we’ve got a feeling Tilly and Mocha Teal will figure out that this road is big enough for both of them. 🐾🚍

Susan, Tilly, me and Dakota in sprit. 

Joining us on DaRoad ? Mocha Teal.

Continuing Our Travels…

Continuing Our Travels… The Big Surprise

I suppose by now you were wondering—what in the world had us pushing that hard, chasing miles like we had somewhere important to be?

You’d be right.

Our destination wasn’t just another stop on the map—it was Sullivan. And the reason?

To meet up with Amy from O'Dell Labs.

Now here’s where the story takes a turn from diesel engines and roadside repairs… to something a whole lot sweeter.

The big surprise?

We were on our way to pick up Mocha Teal Prichard—a beautiful little female chocolate lab., that Dakota had a big paw in finding.

Yep… after all the breakdowns, phone calls, busted hoses, and improvised engineering, the road wasn’t just leading us east—it was leading us to a new traveling companion.

Funny how that works, isn’t it?

All those delays, all those unexpected stops… and yet, somehow, everything still lines up right when it needs to.

So now the journey changes again.

New passenger.
New energy.
Probably a lot less quiet in the RV.

And if history tells us anything… a whole lot more stories ahead.

Welcome to the road, Mocha Teal. 🐾🚍 

May 2nd 

Safe Travels from

Susan, Tillie, Mocha Teal, me and Dakota, always leading the way.

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

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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