The Lemonavion

This blog post is not about writing per se. It’s more about not-writing, due to vehicular problems on the road trip I just returned from.

My Itasca Navion has been a lemon from the very beginning, which could be kind of charming in a Milennium Falcon sort of way. Except that it’s been me it’s happening to, instead of some fictional character. So it’s actually been more inconvenient and dangerous than, you know, comically romantic.

I won’t get into details about what went wrong with it in the past, but in the first months after I got it, it had multiple separate incidents of serious engine computer problems and various other issues on both the chassis part (the Mercedes Sprinter van that’s the engine and drive train and most of the cab) and the house part (the Winnebago RV box that’s the shell of the turtle). At least it’s still under (extended) warranty, so I don’t have to pay for much of what happens to it. Except apparently headlights are only covered for the first six months.

On this trip, both headlights burned out at different times, which about doubles the number of headlights I’ve had burn out in my entire driving career. I also had a propane leak, which is as dangerous and disturbing as it sounds, and it sounds like a loud hissing with a sulphurous stench. Simultaneously there was a sewage leak, which would be as gross as it sounds except I don’t really use the built-in facilities. Also a hubcap went flying off somewhere in Atlanta, which is probably more a testament to some of the awful potholey roads on the outskirts of that city than to the vehicle’s assembly, though I suspect it wasn’t solidly attached (since the other three are still there).

The air conditioning started to malfunction in Florida, which isn’t really the place you want that to happen. It would be blasting lots of cold air goodness with loud wind tunnel sound effects and then suddenly not be blowing at all, though still sounding like it was blowing just as hard. I’m not sure that one got fixed right, since it didn’t happen for the two Mercedes dealers I took it to. We’ll see on the next trip, I guess, which is soon. Also, the rearward of the two ceiling fans failed, and needs to be replaced and ideally upgraded. And the TV antenna stopped working at some point; I don’t watch TV, so I’m not sure how long that’s been out, but I was trying to demo it.

The vehicle consumed a great deal of various fluids, more than it should have in my opinion for a three-week trip, including, oddly, antifreeze, and less surprisingly, the ever-delightful Diesel Exhaust Fluid, which is basically synthetic urine in a bottle (I am not making this up) that somehow cleanses diesel fumes. I’d had the truck serviced the day before I left, so it should have been good for at least 7000 miles…although, regarding that service, the first problem I had on this trip was that they’d put too much motor oil in, which I discovered on a Sunday, and which I had to have fixed at a truck workshop that I was just lucky was open. So who knows what state it was in really.

So, in addition to all the other majestic sights on this trip, I got to see the inside of several Mercedes Sprinter dealerships and Winnebago service centers. And there’s more to do at the local warranty service place before my next trip, which is soon. I did meet some interesting characters at these places, though, and generally received good service.

I just don’t understand how a new vehicle can have this amount of trouble without the maker going out of business. Or makers, in this case, since there’s the chassis and the house and they’re completely separate. These constant problems are really distracting when all you want to do is drive, look at cities to possibly move to, take photos, and finish the first draft of your novel. Instead you’re constantly worrying about whether you’re going to die in a fiery gas explosion or faint from heat exhaustion, or run out of some fluid you didn’t know you needed when you’re hundreds of miles from anywhere. It’s all the delights of boat ownership coupled with road hazards and traffic.

Though I still do like having my house, and my stuff, with me wherever I go. In principle.