“Alan and Lois Versus The Yellowjacks” — Acadia National Park

Trapped between its coastal mountains, lakes at Acadia NP come in all shapes and sizes. The one we hiked is Jordon Pond. Though we neither had the time nor energy to do the entire 4.5 mile loop around its shores, it didn’t much matter. The moment we arrived at its edge, we were treated with beautiful views of a dense tree lined lake surrounded by half submerged boulders with high hills visible in all directions — bliss

And then came the Yellowjacket incident…

As we walked back to the car, I suddenly remembered a YouTube video that raved about the “popovers” at Jordan Pond! Not familiar with these, I could only imagine that popovers are a tasty treat, and that’s exactly what the video confirmed. Apparently, these things have been fresh baked and served at the nearby lodge for years. Here’s what else I learned:

“Since 1893, guests to the park have been enjoying delicious tea and fantastically fluffy popovers on the picturesque Jordan Pond House Lawn. Pioneered by Nellie McIntire, the first proprietor of the restaurant, this tradition is certainly one that you don’t want to miss out on.” … and so on and so forth.

Given that description, how could we not do a popover or three? “Fantastically fluffy” sounds great. But perhaps my biggest reason for taking part in this tradition was peer pressure, that is fear of future incredulous stares from others, wondering why we were too clueless to partake. After all, there was a box to tick, a merit badge to be earned. But never mind. As we meandered down the path towards Jordon Pond House, Lois and I relished the thought of digging into a sweet treat after a nice hike at the lake.

A few more steps, and the lodge finally came into sight, a wonderful relic full of charm and character… with a great mass of people outside! A sinking feeling suddenly rushed over me that misery and mayhem was just ahead. As it turns out, the experience was indeed horrible, but not for the reason I first thought.

No sooner did we enter the grounds, Lois and I were engulfed by people everywhere munching down popovers with strawberry jam, sitting outside at umbrella covered tables on a beautiful lawn overlooking the lake. Alternatively, we could have chosen to sit inside and enjoy a full lunch — with popovers, of course — but only after an astronomical wait. No worries. My spirit quickly began to recover as I realized that after a hundred years of serving throngs of hungry travelers, Jordon Pond House had adapted and created an outdoor stand that sells the goodies we came for. Best yet, its line was moving relatively fast.

Sadly, that optimism lasted all of five minutes when we discovered there was no peace in this corner of Jordon Pond. People were not happy, and that’s putting it mildly. Lois and I were surrounded. The silver haired crowd was loud and complaining. Kids were freaking-out everywhere refusing to eat their popovers, the younger ones crying incessantly. Spouses were angry and yelling. And large families were standing in circles, bickering and debating in a desperate attempt to reach an impossible consensus — stay or go!

Suddenly, it dawned on us. It was the Yellowjackets — hundreds, if not a thousand or two. They were everywhere. It wasn’t the popovers these little beasts were after. It was the Strawberry JAM!

Adventurers that we are, Lois and I simply didn’t give a hoot. We just wanted to earn our popover merit badge and enjoy a warmed baked treat slathered in strawberry sugar. Happily, the line did indeed move quickly as people in front of us, fearing the Yellowjackets, would now and again give up and bail out. We, of course, are made of stronger stuff. 😮

So we got three orders of these goodies and made our way to a table. Those dang Yellowjackets were relentless, but we soldiered on. Unfortunately, it didn’t take long for the first wasp to sound the alarm, and in no time at all we were at war with 20 of those devils. Like a pack of wolves, or Orcas at sea, they were very well coordinated. Silly us, we thought these critters were “meat bees” only interested in lunch meat and stuff like that. No, not true at Jordon Pond House. Maybe it's a case of 133 years of Natural Selection at Acadia National Park? All I know is these 21st Century bad boys were totally into the sugar — literally! I began to reach my limit when the Yellowjackets completely captured my jam. I kid you not, like kinky 1980’s mud wrestlers, nine or ten of them were rolling and squirming in my little tub of strawberry, completely covered in the sweet goo, shoving each other up, down, and every which way. With my plastic knife, I could temporarily flick most of them out. A packet of sugar made for an improvised lid.

Frustrated, Lois and I moved to another table, then another, then to the other side of the lawn. Alas, it was hopeless. Now and again, as we searched for shelter, we forlornly gawked at happy crowds of people inside the protective confines of the restaurant gorging on lunch with popovers — third party spectators to the cage match outside.

“Enough!”, we finally said. With remnants in hand, we headed to the car. Like the Pied Piper of Hamelin, those dang frenzied Yellowjackets did not leave us alone, following us all the way into the forest. It was a good 100 yards before the last hardy soul gave up and returned to the battle at Jordon Pond House, part of a Great War that surely plays out every day, all summer long.

“So was it worth it?” you ask. Hmm… The popovers were like Yorkshire Pudding — fun to look at, but not very sweet. They needed jam, but like everyone else’s, ours was full of who-knows-what Yellowjacket parts and excretions. Who could enjoy it (we ate ours anyway)? No way, no how, there won’t be a “next time”. Silly us. We should have waited for ice cream in Bar Harbor. That’s my kind of merit badge. 😀

 “It Was a Great Day in Arkansas, Until it Wasn't” — Somewhere on US 40

After stopping in Bristol, CT — while we waited for Winnebago professionals to work their magic on Harold-the-RV (see “Harold-the-RV Visits the Hospital”) — we pointed our happy family of four (including Irving-the-Car, of course) towards the West Coast. September was suddenly upon us, and the holidays were just around the corner. It was time to catch-up with loved ones in Northern California and make new memories.

Not being fans of Interstate 80, Lois and I decided to head southwest for some days until we picked-up US 40 at Pigeon Forge, TN. This route took us through Pennsylvania, West Virginia, Tennessee -- states that have great roads and are full of natural beauty. Such a path also provided us an opportunity to pop into a couple of National Parks, hang-out at Dollywood, and see what Nashville is about.

Good news! Our chosen itinerary did not disappoint.

So with those new experiences behind us, Lois and I left Tennessee when we crossed the Mississippi River. Somewhere on US 40, California lie ahead. Westward Ho! We were on our way.

After spending the night at an RV Park on the Arkansas side of the Mississippi, we jumped back onto US 40, destination Little Rock. It was a day like so many others -- break camp, go to Starbucks, drive 3-4 hours, setup camp.

At some point during the trip, a tiny flashing light caught my attention, much to my chagrin. For some reason, the touchpad for the hydraulic leveling system turned on by itself.

For those who don't know, this system controls four powerful steel jacks at each corner of the RV. When we run the system shortly after we arrive at camp, it independently pushes each jack to the ground, extending them until the motorhome is perfectly level. In layman terms, it's the thing that makes sure we don’t roll out of bed at night. But I digress…

As soon as I discovered the flashing light, I thought to myself "Hmmm... Weird. That's never happened before."

Then I spoke out loud, "Lois, did the power button on the touchpad get accidentally pushed?"

"Nope." replied Lois.

And just like that, Experience informed me we had a problem. Knowing my vehicles like I do, I tune into every new quirky symptom I see or hear, no matter how small or benign it might seem. Once detected, I know there’s no going back… I'm doomed. These symptoms will happen again. The underlying cause is never good, and usually expensive!

So what to do about the leveling system that turned itself on? The obvious thing, of course.

"Lois, can you please turn-off the leveling system?"

For a good half hour, I was lost in thought, brainstorming reason after reason why the leveling system powered-up on its own. I was still thinking about the problem when Lois suddenly said "It turned on again!".

Dang!

The system eventually powered up a third time before arriving at the next RV Park.

After a restful evening, plus some digging into the Winnebago manuals, morning came quickly. Before we knew it, Lois and I were back on US 40, coffee in hand. And no surprise to either of us, it wasn't long before our RV leveling system powered up on its own again and Again and AGAIN. Argh…

"Lois, can you please turn off the leveling system again?"

"Alan, what's wrong with this thing? It turned-on Again"

"News flash... it's on AGAIN!"

Unbeknownst to us, things were about to go to hell in a handbasket. Without any warning at all, while bombing down US 40 at 70 MPH, four things suddenly happened in quick succession:

• The leveling system's touchpad began beeping obnoxiously.

• It's front panel displayed a critical error message: "Retract Timeout, Return Levelers for Service"

• An emergency "Jacks Down" light started flashing on the dash.

• A very loud repeating alarm began sounding down by the foot pedals.

In the moments that followed, Lois and I quickly exchanged information and ideas regarding what the heck was going on. At the same time, I began searching for a safe way to get our 10 ton RV/car behemoth off the highway. Fortunately, less than 2 miles ahead was a Flying J Truck Stop. During my mental multi-tasking, I was also busily triaging the "Jacks Down" warning light, wondering:

• “Are the leveling jacks coming down?”

• “Were we moments away from powerful steel posts digging a vicious 1/4 mile trench deep into US 40?”

Fortunately, this was not the case. Before anything bad could happen, we were safely parked at Flying J Truck Stop. Praise God! But now what? We’re stranded…

First things first, I walked around the RV. The jacks were up. That was the first, and most important piece of good news since the US 40 fiasco. Then it was back inside to talk things over with Lois, pray, and make a game plan. We quickly agreed that we weren’t getting back onto the highway until we understood what was going on. So it was time to take another look at the manuals, then give Winnebago and Lippert a call.

Lippert is the manufacturer of the hydraulic leveling system, and I must say that I am extremely impressed with their documentation. In its troubleshooting section, the “Retract Timeout, Return Levelers for Service” error maps to two possible solutions: the hydraulic fluid level is low and/or the pressure monitor is faulty. Sure enough, when I checked the fluid, it was a quart low. So into the Flying J convenience store Lois and I went, out with a quart of fluid — and plenty of snacks and comfort food, of course!

With fluid level restored, it was time for some tests. The parking lot underneath had a definite slope to it. “Let’s see what the leveling system can do with that”, I thought. Jacks down, jacks up, over and over again. Everything worked like a champ, and yet the alarms were still sounding. Like finger nails on a chalkboard, or in this case steel jacks scraping on US 40, the alarms were getting more annoying by the minute. “How does one turn-off the alarms, dog gonnit!”, I mumbled under my breath.

Back to the super-duper manual — “In the case of serious faults, press ENTER-RETRACT on the key pad”. What do you know? It worked! With the error now cleared, the system reset itself and turned off the alarms. We’re good… let’s go!

So as we were putting things back in order, with the engine running, almost ready to roll, it happened all over again. Beep-beep-beep, flashing “Jacks Down” light, loud alarm under the dash — the whole shebang. Sigh…

It was what it was, so Lois and I worked the problem some more. Fortunately, the mechanical aspect of the system continued to operate as prescribed. After additional consultation, we made a joint decision to proceed. It seemed like we had a sensor issue of some kind. Therefore, we rationalized, the jacks should stay in place until we reached our next RV Park, just over the border in Oklahoma. The only workaround required was Lois would do the ENTER-RETRACT key sequence on the touchpad whenever the alarms went off.

In practice, this was easier said than done.

Back on the road, Lois faithfully executed the procedure. Every time the alarms sounded, she pressed ENTER-RETRACT. For good measure, about 10 miles down the road I pulled over and visually checked the jacks… “Okie Dokie, we’re in business”, I pronounced (or something like that).

All was OK except for one thing… the alarms triggered CONSTANTLY. With Lois hunched over her chair, seatbelt on, stretching to reach the touchpad at the bottom center of our very wide dash, she continuously hunted for small buttons and pressed them over and over again.

“Alan!”, she said. “This is crazy. What do you think is going on? I’ve been timing it, and it happens again and again every two and a half minutes!”

With the jacks still up, we continued down US 40 with the alarms firing for more than an hour. Lois and I were safe, but not sound, quickly losing our sanity. We were stuck in a mental hell in a handbasket. And then suddenly for some inexplicable, seemingly divine reason, it all stopped — peace, quiet, heaven on earth. We eventually made it to Oklahoma, setup camp, even used the automatic leveling system (nobody rolled out of bed!). But Experience spoke again, “You guys are clueless. You are no closer to understanding what the heck is going on!”

At camp, I finally made my calls to Winnebago and Lippert, but they were closed for the day. There was nothing more Lois and I could do about it, so we mellowed out and tried to forget today’s nightmare. Tomorrow is another day.

At this point, I’m pausing the story. It is not over by any stretch of the imagination, but at least we are safe and making progress toward California (currently in Albuquerque). With the help of Lippert technical support the next day, a workaround was implemented. I learned from them that one jack was indeed slowly slipping down. The remedy they taught me was to mechanically open the bad jack’s hydraulic valve, then secure the jack in the “up” position using a ratchet strap. Sadly, there is no way to defeat the alarms, but more often than not, the alarms have stayed quiet now that the Lippert workaround is in place.

“Doesn’t Lois get tired hunching over and pressing buttons for miles on end?”, you ask.

Sort of, but to make things easier, Lois and I MacGyver’ed the following button pushing contraption (see below). Thank you Lord for the solution!

Stay tuned…