We were about 20 miles from our destination on I-81 when we experienced a tire blowout. Believe it or not, at first we were unsure we even lost use of the tire. We were cascading the hills, with numerous trucks leaving a diesel scented trail. However, Jill swore she could smell rubber. We even felt a slight bump, but no pop, no squeal, no loss of control of the Nomad. As we exited the interstate, Jill said, "I think we have a flat". Once off the highway, everything seemed smooth. She started second guessing herself and said, "Was it just my imagination?" Dave mentioned, "We'll check it out - we need gas anyways."Pulled into the gas station and Jill headed for the ladies restroom. Dave paid for our fuel, pumped the gas, then checked under the Nomad. "Wow! Yeah, we had a blowout alright. We lost the left rear inner tire. That thing is gone!" Good thing we have a spare!
Good Sam's Roadside Assistance to the rescue! A tire technician named Vince arrived about an hour later, put on the spare and got rid of our old tire. One piece of good news was the fact that the blowout happened on an older tire, not one of the newer ones. Vince was a great guy, but we could tell he had had a long day. After the job was completed, he left without his tire chocks! He called and we waited about 15 minutes for him to return. We hit the road once again just in time to get snagged in rush hour traffic in Scranton, PA. Once we arrived at Wal-Mart, we were comforted by the fact that we were in an old Italian neighborhood with four old churches - one of which had evening chimes that sooth our nerves.
Next morning, Tuesday, April 1st - we checked all the tires and fluids. Dave was concerned that he had to add about a half a gallon of antifreeze to the radiator. We had no leaks, so he knew it was going somewhere else. He noticed white exhaust smoke upon start up. He had been keeping an eye on this since we've been in Georgia. This had been common, especially if the engine was still warm. But, like all the other times, it went away. However, he still had that "I'm not too concerned yet, but it's no longer a back-burner thing either" look on his face. Today was going to be a longer driving day - destination was Bristol, Connecticut. Dave set the GPS coordinates and it promptly took us on a scenic tour of Scranton - including roads that were littered with large pot holes. In fact, EVERY street was like this. Scranton also reminded us of old Boston - the city added roads wherever it could as it grew. "Who laid out these roads?" we protested! To say they were hard to follow was an understatement... 
Once we were on I-81 and then I-84, they were just as bad! We did our best (as did everyone) to dodge and avoid them, looking like an Indy 500 road course, but to no avail. Once we were about 10 miles out of the city, things finally smoothed out. We stopped for gas on the Pennsylvania / New York state border. We wanted to tank up completely as gas prices were much higher in NY as well as Connecticut. By filling up here, we would have enough fuel to just about get us to New Hampshire. Once again, as we pulled in, Jill heard a noise - but it was different than the tire noise. Jill said as she was jumping from the cab, "That doesn't sound good. I'm heading to the restroom. You can check out the Nomad." Did the same drill as before - go in, pay for the fuel, then look under the RV. The tires were all good - however, this time it was our gray water tank dragging on the ground. It seemed all the pot holes and bumps had loosened the bolts in the tank holding brackets, then all the violent vibrations sheared them off. Only one bracket out of the three still had a bolt holding the tank. The tank looked okay, as did the wiring. The plastic piece that came out of the tank and went to a drainage pipe had broken away and smashed against the pavement - that part was toast. We didn't have the tools with us to drill out the old bolts, we didn't have any spare bolts, and there were no hardware stores in the area - or for miles around for that matter. Never mind the gas station attendant was starting to get a little annoyed with us."How are we going to secure the tanks well enough so we can make the last 300+ miles home?", we thought. Quite honestly, we had no idea...
Until next time,
The Happy Campers,
Jill & Dave
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