Reflections from our journey to New Hampshire
So now we have a wheezy, whiny truck
that is complaining about his abs.
Will he ever be satisfied?
Will the enigma that is Dennis
ever be solved?
I’m definitely glad the mechanic gave us warning that Dennis would show some temporary growing pains. While we can definitely access more power, Dennis emits a high pitch cry when we accelerate. It’s as if he is saying, “I’ll do it; don’t cut me open again! He also has a steady grumbling that seems to be seeping in through the driver’s side air vent. I’m not sure what all this funny business is about his abs ... the ABS is supposed to be just a mirror of the issue with the brake fluid. As the grumbling fades in a few days, the complaints about his ABS should disappear. I’m feeling a little suspicious that Dennis overheard me reading my previous post about him to the girls; I mentioned the whole tummy tuck/c-section idea and now he thinks his abs need tightening. I guess body image issues are independent of size (or life form).
We knew we were doing well when we made it through the mountains in Vermont. We looked at each other, almost afraid to celebrate our success making it up our first mountain at full speed. My ears literally popped and no limp mode! I saw a road named “Journey’s end,” commenting that I was glad we hadn’t broken down there. Luckily, Dennis just kept trucking.
Healing Fresh Air in Maine
I drove Dennis with the trailer attached for the first time on our trip to Maine. My inaugural “haul” was a 25 minute trip between rest stops to avoid pesky things like bridges and turns. It was really simple and I honestly couldn’t really feel the trailer behind us. I quickly got used to looking in the bottom side mirrors to see the rear of the trailer (the trailer blocks the rearview mirror). We decided to stop on a positive note with plans that I’ll drive longer next time.
There is no way Dennis could have climbed Cadillac mountain in his former state. He’s stopped crying and whimpering, far ahead of schedule. I think he likes the fresh mountain air.
He continues to grumble as if he’s trying to prove to everyone he’s tough. After all, he lost his big, bad grill. Even without his giant front tusks, Dennis is impressive. When we pull up next to a measely F-150, it seems like a shrimp, Dennis’ baby brother.
Anyhow, he grumbles away two weeks later when the mechanic had told us it would likely only take a few days to thoroughly clear his lungs (for the valve on the brake fluid to “settle” properly). He’s still well aware of his abs, but I guess the anti-lock brake system issue will resolve with the noise.
If he’s not grumbling, maybe it’s just a throaty cough caused by the allergies we are all suffering from ... beautiful fresh air, but also lots of flowers and trees and pollens. I’m glad Dennis can’t sneeze.
Dennis has friends at our campground, a newer F-350 that’s much quieter who lives right next door. Maybe he just wants the other trucks to know he’s here. Most of the time, it’s hard to miss him. We can drive down a small two way street and Dennis’ girth overwhelms the whole road. Drivers give us space because his sturdy frame demands it. It can be tricky to drive him down narrow paths or park him; honestly, there are many times we have to find alternative parking. We pulled up next to a bunch of “regular trucks” and a few sedans at the lake the other day. Dennis extended out behind the other rears by several feet. We really need to capture the magic of the Knight Bus to traverse the narrow roads and regular sized parking spots. Dennis needs spots fit for a king (or a mammoth, depending on who you ask).
The kids have decided to monitor their speech around Dennis, only paying him compliments in case he decides to retaliate and become a menace once again. There is nothing like cruising along the highway with Dennis, singing Into the Unknown at the top of our lungs. We just need to purchase a set of shrunken heads to give us directions.
