On a Wing and a Prayer

We spent our last night in San Diego in the best way possible: surrounded by the people who have become our West Coast family.  Our dear friend and priest, Father Nick, even blessed our 5th-wheel home and wished us a safe journey.

Saturday morning we woke up early.  The skies were blue and the torrential rains we experienced on our last day ended, but the strong winds remained.  After completing our handy Exit Check List, we were on our way.  Larry and the 5th-wheel were in front; I followed in my car, Audible book playing away.

We were just 15 miles from where we started when IT happened. The motorized awning that provides shade when we are camping started to unfurl.  It came out timidly at first, like a child sticking her toes in the water.  The water is fine, it might have said. Out it came, like a giant wing to its full 8x12 foot extension.  Since we were traveling 55 miles an hour, it didn’t take long for this giant wing to rip from the body of the RV and wave like a Garrison flag.

What happened next is the way I remember it.  Larry has a different version, but since this is my blog, my story is the one of record.  As soon as my brain computed what was happening, I called Larry and, with extreme calmness, told him the awning had deployed (U.S. Marine speak I learned at Pendleton).  Pull over as soon as possible, I suggested.  Larry made his way to the shoulder, just as we drove past a rock wall that appeared out of no where and gradually rose to approximately 9 feet tall. The arms of the awning skimmed across the top of the wall shearing off highway signs.  Sparks flew and climbing ivy got a buzz cut until the vehicle came to a full stop.

We left my vehicle back about 50 yards from the trailer with the caution lights flashing, called California Highway Patrol, and motioned for passing cars to slow down.  We hadn’t been there for three minutes before  a car pulled over to help.  In the spirit of full disclosure, I must confess I assumed the car pulled over because I was so cute.  The real story was that this very nice man installs RV awnings for a living and knew exactly what had happened and how to get our awning off the wall.  According to him, awnings come off all the time.  News to us.

Anyway, even before the highway patrol arrived, he began sawing off the awning braces.  As soon as the CHP arrived, I got in my car and did what any traumatized person with half a brain would do: I high-tailed it to Starbucks to wait for Larry.  In the time it takes to say “Grande Non-fat Latte” he was off the wall, and we were back to our vagabond ways.  

I guess the moral of the story is be thankful for blessings, because when bad things happen in life, God sends the help you need to get back on course.

Snow at 4,000 ft.
San Diego County