An expensive lesson

For the want of a properly set dial, a day was lost…

Carol A. Hyman

1/9/04

Look back in time and recall the first 2000 or so miles of driving your RV when it was brand new. Perhaps you too had a similar lesson...

Where to begin?

Perhaps the logical place to start my story is when I left Mesquite, Nevada -- early this morning. About 6 am; no coffee; no breakfast; however, I had freshly brushed clean teeth. Since I was en route to see my dentist that was important! My teeth definitely had a higher priority than morning coffee.

I noticed my brakes didn't feel quite right. They wanted to grab -- just a little bit. The numbers on the brake controller appeared to be too high. Not the numbers you see here; rather 2.6, 2.7, 2.8!

My eyes were still filled with sleep and I wasn't sure. "Perhaps it's the cold," I muttered to myself, knowing full well that was not the case. Looking back, I realized I didn't want to face reality, at least not in the dark of the morning.

At first there was no problem, but then I was driving on a major highway. I had no reason to even think about my brakes, let alone use them. Traffic was light and I always keep a lot of distance between me and other traffic on the highway. Once I was off the highway, I began to realize I did have a problem! Eight o'clock traffic in Las Vegas was Friday morning heavy—complete with tourists! I needed to use the brakes frequently. I had been in these same shoes a month ago when my trailer was brand new! "Holly cow! Do I have to mess around with my brake controller every 1500 miles?" On that first occasion, I landed at Camping World, had a consultation with the mechanics that convinced me I needed a different brand of brake controller. Now, suddenly I was in the same boat! The brakes were grabbing again. It didn't feel quite the same but there were similarities ... "It will get better," I said to myself. "After all I am headed back to that same Camping World to stay tonight. Those guys will fix whatever the problem is..."

So I continued with my Vegas plans to catch up with friends and show off my new trailer—The Cocoon. Since my friends had been full time trailering folks for a long time, I mentioned the brakes. They managed to convince me the problem was most likely not the controller; rather, the actual brakes on the trailer axle. And I was easily convinced. After all, it did feel a bit different ... And what did I know? I'm brand new to trailering. I certainly didn't have the experience of my friends...

I called the closest Camping World and they were nowhere near as accommodating as the folks had been in my initial encounter with a different Camping World in a different state. All they could say was, "Sorry, but there's no way we could even look at your vehicle today."

I called Casita. "Well, if it's an adjustment, there will be a charge. Adjustments are not covered by the warranty. If it's a problem with the axle brakes, they are Dexter brakes. If it's a problem with the brake controller, it's a Tokonsha controller. If it's a problem with the actual part, the warranty will cover it; however perhaps if you rotate the dial, that might fix it."

“Dial,” I asked. "What dial?"

"Well, you know..."

I didn't know—then. However, I suddenly realized I needed help—a lot of help. I started to make calls and finally found a local RV service center who said, "Yes, we can look at it today but that may be all we can do. It depends what's wrong."

I lurched and bucked my way across town -- about 15 miles or so. Traffic was heavy due to construction. I needed the length of a football field ahead of me just so I could tap and ease the brakes on—slowly, slowly, slowly. I finally made it. And of course the questions of the moment were, "What's wrong?" and "How much?"

I supplied the symptoms and the Service Advisor made notes and scribbled down an estimate. I looked at the figure at the bottom of the work-up page. Two hundred twenty dollars! Two hundred twenty dollars! Twenty two thousand pennies!

I couldn't believe my eyes; I could barely gasp, "So much! Why? What for?"

"Well you know, I figured it would take a couple of hours and regardless of what is wrong, you have to pay a half hour minimum!" was the reply.

I didn't know and I was caught between that proverbial rock and a hard place!

"How long?"

"Oh, maybe all afternoon. It depends. I mean, we have other scheduled work and we just can't take a guy off some other job just to check your trailer! We'll fit you in when we can...”

"Oh...”

I found the customer lounge and the RV supply and food store. I spent three dollars and fifty cents for what I could have purchased in a grocery store for two bucks! I saw a small propane camping stove priced at $59.95. I had purchased the identical model a few years ago for 29 bucks. Prices haven't gone up that much! I muttered incantations and mentally cast the plague on every worker I saw in the store. I was not a happy camper.

The only plus was access to the Internet. So I popped on the net, caught up with my mail, and sent a few notes to folks sharing my dilemma. The longer I sat thinking about what had happened, the more I began to realize what probably did happen. And there I was; I did not know how to fix it! What an expensive lesson I was learning...

When I had purchased the brake controller at Camping World, I was told that once it was installed, I would never have to me make any changes. It would stay adjusted! That sounded good to me, so I agreed to buy the brake controller and asked that the installers make any necessary adjustments. I simply didn't want to have to do it! At the time that did make sense, but as I look back with 20-20 hindsight, I realize I was not too smart! I was also told that many people mistook the brake controller for a radar detector and the unit could be ripped off quite easily. I was advised to remove the controller and place it in the small black bag that came with the unit!

Well, that seemed like a lot of work, so my solution was to place the bag over the controller, fitting it snugly down. The controller would be out of sight and no one would be the wiser. At home I hadn't bothered to do it, but the night before it made sense to do since I was hanging out in a casino parking lot. Little did I know that I was the one creating a problem. Of course, while I was busy writing on the Internet and thinking, I was only guessing. I really didn't know...

I'm not a good waiter; After a couple of hours had gone by I wandered outside and discovered my truck and The Cocoon sitting outside one of the bays ... As people began to walk by, I queried them. "What does it mean if my truck and trailer are just sitting there?"

And after a while my service person arrived and said, "You're ready to go."

"How much?"

"Don't know. We have to have the bill typed up?"

"What was wrong? I want to talk to the guy who fixed it. If whatever happened happens again, I need to know how to fix it without spending one arm and one leg!"

I talked to the mechanic. Yes, my earlier suspicions proved true. Indeed by covering the controller and hiding it from the sight of passers-by, I had moved the small wheel that was used to adjust the controller.

Had I not so blithely ignored the installation process, I would not have had to invest three hours time—waiting, waiting. Nor would I have had to spend fifty-nine dollars to have a mechanic take five minutes (or less) to make a simple adjustment and rotate a wheel. What an expensive lesson, and one I won't forget!

What did I learn? Never, ever pass up an opportunity to learn how something is installed and don't be afraid to ask questions. If the process doesn't make sense the first time, ask to have the steps explained and explained again until everything falls into place. The truth is, if at all possible, get your own hands dirty; install as much as you can -- even if you do the job under the guidance of that 19-year-old kid. The genes in the fingers will remember far better than you will. And it will be time—well spent.