Our second day of service at the Winnie factory started innocently enough. We were in the herd of motorhomes instructed to pull in at 7:00 this morning. After we exchanged quick pleasantries with our service tech, he went to work and we headed off to Clear Lake to do a little banking and see something, anything beyond Forest City.
With cats in tow (and they so don’t love riding in the Jeep), our mission was to get our business taken care of before the heat of the day. Today’s forecast was for a high in the 90s and humidity to match. So, we were all pretty uncomfortable from the start. About 30 minutes later we landed in usually quaint Clear Lake. Today, however, it was a party scene in the making as the town was putting the final touches on tonight’s RAGBRAI stop.
The Des Moines Register’s Annual Great Bike Ride Across Iowa is a mobile party of some 22,000 bicyclists and their friends. It attracts folks from all over the world, and today the world was about to descend on Clear Lake. Little did we know, but soon it would all wreak havoc with our own little world. We took care of business and grabbed a quick breakfast. As we were finishing up our most important meal of the day, we got “the call”. It was our service advisor at Winnebago.
“We’re going to have to keep your coach for two or three days,” he started. “So, you’ll have to be out of it for a few nights.”
Turns out our “little” leak in our great big street side slide did a bunch of damage in the slide ceiling before revealing itself to us. The top of the slide needed to be removed and replaced. Meanwhile, we’d have to find other accommodations. With thousands of bicycling fans in town for the night, Clear Lake was clearly out of the question. So, we headed back to Forest City to see the man and find a bed for the next few nights.
Back at Winnebago, the heat and humidity were rapidly on the rise and tempers were simmering. Tired technicians, customers who want to be anywhere but here, and several dozen Winnies in need of service can be a combustible mix. Back in the day, so we’ve heard, Winnebago would put customers up at a lodge across the street when they had to spend a night or more out of their coaches. But, times are tough. These days, as we discovered (in a way that would be best described as “curt”), customers are on their own. We headed for one of the two motels in town. We asked for a room and were told there were none to be had there, or anywhere. Thanks to this Iowa bike fest, every motel and hotel room within 50 miles is booked.
Hot, humid and homeless in Forest City, Iowa. What did I do?
That’s right. I cried.
The two of us sat in the spartan lobby of the Super 8 waiting for inspiration. We needed a place to park ourselves and our two cats for the night. And, Rocky is way too small for us all, especially when the heat index is well over the century mark. Things were looking pretty dark, indeed. Then, we remembered our local Winnie friends. Paul dialed them up and explained our dilemma.
These wonderful people provided the most needed ray of sunshine! When we asked them for ideas of what to do, they insisted that we come out to their farm and make ourselves at home in their rolling home, which sits next to their sticks and bricks just outside of Forest City. When we arrived with cats in tow they gave us great big hugs, assured us that everything will be fine, and turned their coach over to us.
Part of our settling in was getting what we needed out of our moose. We made a run back to the Winnebago factory to pick up some stuff. Imagine having just a few minutes to grab from your home what you needed for yourselves and your pets for a few days of remote living. And, imagine that it feels like a sauna outside and is even hotter in the shop where your house sits with part of the roof missing. And, oh yeah, you have to wear big, plastic protective eyewear that makes sweat pour directly into both of your eyes, blinding you as you sweat like a pig. You’re hot, tired and have already been brought to tears. And, your service advisor is standing there waiting to escort you out of this sweat shop. Get the picture?
What would you take?
Alcohol was at the top of my list. Sure, sure. I know! Clothes and vital documents and such should have been first. But, after the day we’ve had, I was going to make damn sure I had a cocktail! We packed toiletries, cat food and a few other odds and ends into a couple of bags, picked up our dirty laundry and bid adieu to the good people with the power to restore our home. We wish them luck. Our moose is a mess.
Back at the farm, we cooled off and enjoyed a well-deserved happy hour. Our most generous hosts fed us dinner, treated us to a movie, offered us the use of their laundry and sent us out the back door for a good night’s rest in our temporary home.
Sitting here in a place that looks a lot like our house but isn’t, we’re counting our blessings. (The cats, on the other hand, are really confused!) Thanks to the amazing generosity of friends who just three months ago were strangers we met in a campground in Austin, Texas, tonight we are safe, sound and have a place to sleep in rural Iowa. That’s the way this incredible lifestyle works!
And, we’re thankful for one more thing: Our mess of a moose is still under warranty.