Pony named the RV Ceci (for Cecilia). Early on, we invested in a GPS from the Good Sam club. Originally, we had it programmed with a female voice, but we found that voice…. well….. annoying. So we switched to the male voice and dubbed the GPS Lola (with a nod to the Kinks’ song). Lola is supposedly designed to help us with RV-related travels. She is supposed to help us avoid low bridges (although there was one specific incident where she almost deliberately took us on a road with just such a hazard), she is supposed to steer us clear of towns that having zoning against vehicles transporting propane, and she is supposed to help us find places to get water, get propane, make dumps, camp, and so on.
Lola has proved a bit of a bust on nearly all of these points.
On Saturday, December 7th, we started off with the plan to stay on highway 50, out of Annapolis, and, for the most part, through Maryland and West Virginia. However, once we got past the Beltway, Lola already steered us off that route and onto I-70.
Okay. Change of plans, then.
So then we planned to stop in Morgantown, West Virginia for the night. As we approached Morgantown, Pony suggested that maybe we should consider getting an electric space heater to use inside the RV (with the hopes of saving a bit on the propane used for heating), so, upon arriving in Morgantown, we stopped at a Walmart for that purpose. Then we headed out, presumably to find the campsite Pony had identified in Morgantown. However, it seemed that Lola took any stop in Morgantown as sort of “mission accomplished”, so she took us on this merry chase around a very narrow, two-lane, country road that eventually ended up on a totally new interstate and far from the directions Pony had for getting to the campsite (incidentally, she had called ahead to the campsite and had been told that GPS’s frequently fail to find the place; small defence for Lola’s actions).
Okay. Change of plans again.
We ended up driving all the way into Ohio, where there was supposedly another campsite (a state park that was apparently still open, despite the season).
Lola couldn’t find it. Instead, she took us on yet another merry run around a country road (that went from gravel to just dirt at one point) before taking us back to the highway. We stopped at a Pilot Truck Stop. At this point, Pony had a bit of a melt down. She was tired of the mishaps, the gremlins, the death of a thousand paper cuts, as it were. And all I wanted was to help her regain some of her good humor and composure, at whatever the cost.
“What do you want to do?” I asked her. “ Do you want us to quit? Do you want to pick a town, settle down, and I’ll get a job selling insurance?”
That did it. She broke into a spell of laughter, and we were ready to keep it going.