FTJ, Entry 17: Downhill Racers, No Brakes?

OK, no one panic. We were in the dramatic mountains of West Virginia on our way to Pegasus Farm campground....

...when after a particularly steep decline down one of the mountains in the Monongahela Range, Beau announced that we had no brakes. Yes, ladies and gentlemen, NO BRAKES!!!  He was able to pump them up and we pulled into some little WV town to see if we could summon assistance.

Long story short, we met the most wonderful people who helped us. The first guy looked the rig over and then directed us to a truck repair place just down the road -- Mawry's, I think.

We were helped there by "Sonny," who, with his crew, checked our brakes out for us, declaring that the problem, Dear Brutus, was not in the brakes, but in the...driver. They advised Beau to gear down as much as possible, slow down, and stop overusing the brakes. (Something wifey had been telling him the entire trip so far, but I don't want to be a "told you so." Much.)

Here is Beau with Sonny, who refused any compensation for his time and advice:

What lovely and hospitable people!

Anyway, we thought we were fine -- so we went back on the highway. And a few miles later, our brake warning light AND the anti-lock brake warning light went on. Which meant that in those big-ass mountains (Sonny said that we had just come up some "hills" but now we were going to encounter mountains -- he was right), Beau had to white-knuckle it using lower gears and pumping the brakes to make sure they worked for 34 miles. Thirty four friggin' miles, with both of us waiting to SEE IF THE FRIGGIN' BRAKES WOULD HOLD!!!!   KEYRIPESALMIGHTY!!!  

A silence fell over the RV. You could cut the tension with a knife, people. (Trying to build the drama here.) 

I was so freaking scared I barely took a photo.

Anyway, there was nowhere to go, nowhere to stop along those 34 miles of mountain road until we reached Elkins, our destination. By then, we were both drained from the stress.

Thankfully, the owner of the campground, Mark, met us at a Wal Mart and led us to his place -- very peaceful, very, well -- 60's like. (Beau adds: HIPPIE COMMUNE).

Mark told us to "chill" and that we should now relax. Oh sure. Of course, at this point, the RV steps no longer worked. WHAT NEXT? OMG!

Anyway, we are now ensconced at Pegasus Farm.  

Beau adds again: Hippie Commie Commune.

Beau after the treacherous, terrifying drive (mugging for the camera)

 

Not sure when we can get serviced to find out what our issues are, so we may be in West Virginia for a while.

In closing, I, must re-emphasize how positively lovely and gracious the people are here. Please ignore the rantings below.

Beau adds: With no cable and only one broadcast TV channel at this place, I'm desperate to find a local sports bar/gin mill so I can watch the LSU/FL Gators football game tomorrow night!! Shudda gotten that Direct TV when I was thinking about it!! DANG! 

Tomorrow is the annual Forest Festival (supposedly the "biggest" festival in West VA according to Mark the Hippie) in downtown Elkins-- parades, log chopping, sheep shearing , pig castration, chaw spittin', cow chip flinging, booger blowin', food, fun,  whatever. Can't miss it having come all this way without knowing why...

This is all Laura's fault.

Tanks, Panky