Tuesday, October 03, 2006
Sept 27 – Desert Bound
Today it is “So long San Diego and Hello Las Vegas!” We were prepared for a long seven hour-
ish drive, however, we were not prepared for the mountains we would need to climb to get there. It was a different scenario this time around. Rather than DEALING with very steep climbs we were presented with shallow-angle inclines but extremely long grades. I was originally thinking that the ODDS would be in the 
MoHo’s favour since it would not have such an intense load applied all at once. But it seemed to be just as bad in the long run. Remember, we were in the middle of the Mojave desert so the temperature was a factor which was not playing to our long SUIT. After the first couple of long, slow climbs, it seemed that the MoHo was handling things pretty well. The transmission fan was coming on to cool things down as required which was good. Unfortunately, it is so loud and creates such a booming noise in the cab that it is rather disconcerting. As a matter of fact, it is so loud that I have difficulty discerning when the MoHo up-shifts or down-shifts. But, as long as it cools the transmission, I can live with the unsettling noise. It did and I did. I could see the temperature gauge for the transmission rising and falling
in-sync with the “noise”, although it would never seem to come 
down as much as I would like while we were still climbing. But on the way down the hills the increased airflow, and the fact that we are coasting, would bring the temp gauge back to where I like it. As usual, all this time the engine temp gauge remained stolid, resting at its intended location throughout the mountainous encounters. Then I started to wonder when my LUCK would run out when we reached the mother of all grades. Once again the hill did not look 
steep at all but you could see the road continuing to gently rise upward for miles and miles ahead. They provided a separate lane for slow vehicles which is not uncommon on hills but it seemed weird when I entered this lane since I was still moving at 90 km/h (55 mph) without being able to see an incline of any merit looming. Then I saw a sign which recommended turning off your air conditioning for the next 16 miles (26 km). SIXTEEN FREAKIN’ MILES!!! That is an 
insanely long grade! But then again, if I can remain at 90 km/h then it shouldn’t be a big deal, right? Should I ROLL THE DICE and leave the A/C on for now? As we continued to ascend the gentle slope our speed began to slowly creep downward. I had managed to maintain 70 km/h (42 mph) partway up this gentle giant when I needed to PASS a slower moving transport truck. (It happens.) But just at that point in time another 
transport truck, going a little faster than I was, started to pass me. There I was, boxed in, with no choice but to apply the brakes to avoid hitting the slow truck right in front of me. I couldn’t believe this was happening. If you have ever been climbing a hill on a bike 
and were forced to slow down for some reason partway up and then continue, then you have an idea of what I was going through as I tried to regain my lost momentum. Trying to get back up to the speed you were doing before you slowed down is almost impossible. You can pretty much kiss that extra velocity good-bye. I was so peeved that I was forced to slow down, that once the faster transport truck got by, I pulled out to pass anyway. There I was, going 50 km/h (30 mph) now, in the passing lane (which is really the slow lane for any normal car) trying to gain some speed to get by this slug of a transport. As I mashed the accelerator pedal DOUBLE DOWN into the carpeting I could hear the transmission 
drop down into second gear and the engine begin to wail as the MoHo clamored for some semblance of increased forward momentum. Then the transmission cooler joined the CHORUS with its raucous accompaniment. At this point, if you were blindfolded and just listening to the engine noise, you’d probably swear you were at a drag racing strip or something. The MoHo strained for every extra km/h in its quest to avoid the embarrassment of having to pull back in behind this moving road-block after an unsuccessful pass attempt. Slowly, excruciatingly slowly, the MoHo’s speed began to edge up ever so slightly. However, the transmission temperature was rising in unison. At this speed there was almost no air passing over, or though, the engine bay to cool things down and that situation was not going unnoticed by the writer. (Do you like that? When I refer to myself in the third person?) I was hoping, much like the quote we heard in the movie Top Gun the other day, that “my ego was not writing checks that my MoHo 
can’t CASH”. Amazingly, the MoHo rose to the challenge and managed to squeak by the snail-like adversary. We then pulled back into the slow-moving vehicle lane triumphant, at about 60 km/h (36 mph), with our heads high. The MoHo managed to maintain the transmission temperature in the acceptable range for the entire climb and once we crested the mountain and began our 10 mile (16 km) descent, the 110 km/h (70 mph) forced air blast down the other side brought the temperature down below its normal resting point thereby relieving most of the pressure built up within me during the climb. The engine temperature did not waver the entire time, staying locked in its normal position. (Oh, I love you engine temperature gauge.) And this was even more impressive considering I did not turn off our A/C as the sign had recommended. I BET you didn’t expect 
that. Hey, come on, we're in the desert for crying out loud! So yes, it’s true, I had not even made it to Vegas yet and I was already GAMBLING. As we approached Las Vegas the kids and Chantal were treated to the skyline of “the STRIP” for the first time. So, “Where does one find an RV park in Vegas?” you might ask. Good question. We played it safe and reserved a spot but we did not want to commit until we saw it. We found it way over on the east side of town. There is a long section there with casino after casino where each one has an RV park in back! So there is your answer. They don’t just have RV parks in Vegas, they actually cater to RV-ers. I guess I should not be surprised. But I WAGERED that we could find a better place. So where did we end up? Believe it or not, Circus Circus has an RV park off to the side and that is where I am right now as I write this. Viva Las Vegas, baby!
stolid \STOL-id\, adjective:
Having or revealing little emotion or sensibility; not easily excited.
