I went into buying the camper, not so affectionately called "The Beast", knowing she had a few quirks and needed a bit of work. Most immediately in need was the alternator.
So I called up a mechanic and paid him to go out to where The Beast was parked to look her over and replace the alternator if need be. $200 later (not bad considering he drove half an hour to get there!) the work is done and we are good to go. Huzzah!
We got a ride from my mother up the three hour drive from the cities. Loaded our stuff, got the beast started and headed to the gas station. They'd given her to me on empty. Nice.
Well, mother dearest had driven off by then, impatient to get back to her life.
I shut the R.V. off, filled her up and... Dead. It wouldn't start.
Called the mechanic who insisted it was fine. Must be something wrong with the BRAND NEW BATTERY. But of course if I could give him a few hours he could drive up and replace the battery for me. For a price. Of course.
I'm in full on panic mode. We are stranded, a friend that lives about 20 miles away isn't in town. Dude I just paid for the camper isn't answering his phone. Oh yeah, and we are taking up three gas pumps in a busy tourist town.
A woman stopped and she and her boyfriend spent a good long time trying to jump it, but her giant truck did not have enough power.
I called O'Reilly's in tears. Can I borrow their strongest jump pack? I'll walk over and get it.
The man on the other line is Tim. Our first Super Hero. Met him on the very first day of our adventure.
He sent "the boys" over and they got The Beast started with strict instructions to drive it directly to O'Reilly's. Done.
Tim comes out with a mechanical thingy (I know, I'm super pro) and says, you need a new alternator.
I sputter at him. But I just had it replaced! He goes in, retrieves a new one and holds it next to mine. Oh. I've been heckin' bamboozled! Not as charming as when it's Puggo and his shenanigans.
Again I call the villan of our story who is now angry. "It was working perfectly fine! It's that battery!"
Tim rides to the rescue.
Tim doesn't get off work until 8. But he can take us to his parents after. His dad has a shop big enough to fit the camper and he will do the labor of replacing it for free, we just have to get it 7 miles outside of town.
I buy the part (again) and hang out with the kids and dogs.
Time is up, Tim comes and charges the camper once more and we follow. It's so freaking obvious that the alternator is the problem. She's going slower and slower. The lights get dimmer and she is backfiring louder than a close range rifle shot.
His parents welcome us like family. We are invited in, I'm handed a coffee, the kids get some toys out and I hear stories of misadventures in his mother's own R.V.ing past.
Meanwhile the menfolk are working on my camper. They tinkered with some other stuff, topping off fluids. It's late.
We stay the night in Tim's driveway being pelted with rain that is coming in through our leak-free roof. So. Pissed.
The next morning we say our goodbyes and I grovel in gratitude. Then we head south into Duluth to get introduced to my new boss and the kids enrolled in school.
Some things, I was capable of handling myself. My attempt to use caulk to patch up ceiling holes was a chaotic mess and a total failure. But gutter tape did the trick.
When a truck smashed into a traffic cone and it in turn smashed into me, ripping the pole from the wall, I "fixed" this problem with a dog leash.
I managed to get it insulated, fix exterior lights all on my own. Like some kind of flipping adult.
Until... One day it wouldn't start. Again. The repair shop was closed, it's Sunday. The kids need to get to school the next day!
In comes our second Hero, Andy. Andy drove 40 minutes to come out, assess the problem and dig in.
This time it was a belt that snapped. It regulated both the alternator and the water pump, causing The Beast to overheat and spill anti-freeze all over the ground.
Andy refused payment and went on his way. A second guy had answered my call for help, arriving while Andy was hard at work and insisted we exchange numbers. He instructed me to call if we ever needed anything.
He even text me a few times to make sure we were good. Gave me some tips. He lived in a camper for 3 years with his dog so he knows what he's on about.
I've lost count of the number of times Tony saved my ass. The Starter, the Coil pack, the ignition, he worked on my brakes and so much more.
We went to BBQ's with his family. He also refused payment.
There are people in this world that do not judge you by your situation. They're just good people who want to help.
Pay it forward. That's all I can do. Thank you Tim, and Andy, and Tony. You guys were my Angelic Heroes in denim and grease. 💜💜💜