We didn’t know the bottom of our Yeti was made of wood… and starting to rot… until our tank ass was draggin’ all around town.

KaaaaBoom! It fell and began to drag as we drove down the street. From our two front seats we stared at each other with fear, shock and confusion. “What was that?”

The amazing experience of RV ownership hit us square between the wheel wells. Our 22 year old gray tank had fallen from it’s snug position onto the road beneath. It was full. This is a good lesson in dumping BEFORE you hit the road.

At 8 pounds a gallon, our forty something gallon tank was gravity bound.

Our repairs were far too easy, as we had dropped our tank about 100 yards from the Temecula RV Center. They emptied and then re-strapped our tank back up into position.

Later… down the road.

A good friend and fellow RVer said to us once, “all repairs snowball into yet another repair.” They were right. Somewhere between Dulzura and Lakehead we sprung a leak. Actually, the “J” clip had been bent  from the first fall. So, the next complete fill up of our gray tank resulted in a fast and furious leak.

Again, we were rescued. This time by Chrystal and her plumbers tape. Which held strong for another three thousand miles are so.

Once in Rhode Island, Paul fixed our clip in his shop. Today, we are happy to report that we are no longer an eco-hazard. Scouts honor.