Chapter Two: Road Trip!
With the deal having been completed (verbally anyway), the focus was now on securing my prize. Victor and I had worked out a pickup time for the following weekend. He was in Virginia and I was in Georgia. To make matters more complicated, I had nothing large enough to haul Thor to his new home.
I ran over the numbers in my head but there was just no way my 1993 1/2-ton 4x4 could handle the weight. I really didn’t have an exact weight, just more of an estimate from on-line research and the pictures Victor had sent me. As luck would have it, I didn’t own a trailer long enough either.
Oppie to the rescue! Zachary Rowe or “Oppie” (as I nicknamed him -- I threw the extra “P” in there just to be different), was a close friend with both a larger truck and a long enough trailer. Oppie is “Oppie” because of his red hair and the fact that he still lives at home with Dad. He is more like one of my kids than just a friend. He’s 30 years younger than me. I have a group of my former “Airmen” that I have taken close in my keep -- Oppie is one of those.
So Oppie has a fleet of “F@&ds” (and a 1950 3100 Chevrolet), one of which is a 1996 F350 with a 7.3L diesel. He also had a 24-foot 14,000 lbs. trailer.
It took a matter of seconds to convince Oppie to join me on my quest. I merely had to mention a road trip and he was in with both feet. The plan was laid out and a timeline set. We would leave Friday morning and meet Victor on Saturday.
We prepped the truck and trailer for the journey ahead, secured the necessary tools, jack, impact, chains and binders. It was at this point that I discovered there was no spare tire for the truck. Oppie never had a spare tire and didn’t believe he needed one (foolish child). I would see to that. I asked around and no one seemed to have a spare that would work. Most 1-tons in our area are dual wheeled or not the correct bolt pattern. A spare tire was an absolute must for this trip. I’d figure out something.
Friday morning came. It was sunny and warm and smelled of adventure. I love a good road trip. I suppose it’s in my blood, handed down from Grandpa to Dad to me. My Dad was born under a wandering star. As a kid, we never stayed in one place too long. There are stories that the family passed down of Dad’s exploits and how we came to be where we were. But I stray ... this is not one of those stories, though they should be told here as well.
We pulled out a little after 7:00am. I could almost hear Willie singing “On the Road Again.” A quick stop to top off the tank, coffee and a biscuit and we were north bound on I-95.
I had located a spare tire at LKQ in Savannah so that would be our first stop, or so I thought. About 20 miles from the house, we were stopped dead on I-95. Seems a south-bound trucker decided to make an immediate left turn and crossed two lanes of traffic, the center median, three more lanes of north-bound traffic, all before coming to a stop in the Weigh Station. Sideways, I might add, as he just missed the scale tower. So, we sat there for three hours. Linda, my Loving Bride, called just to see how we were doing. She got an ear full, bless her. The Good lord had been watching over everyone that morning, as no one was seriously injured.
We were rolling once again. We made a short detour off I-95 into Garden City and LKQ. The counter man was sure he had a tire and wheel that would fit. We just needed to find it. We headed off into the abyss that was the wrecking yard. There was row after row of trucks, most with the newer bolt pattern wheels. I managed to locate an 80’s – 90’s 1-ton van. The tires were fair at the least, but I was holding out for better.
Just as I was ready to settle for something that at least held air, I found a tire in the rear of another van that still had the manufacturing labels stuck on it. The date code was less than a year old. It was the next size down from what we had been looking for, but it was newer and held air. A mere $85, in the back of the truck it went, and we were on our way again.
We crossed the state line at 1:00pm and left Georgia. Virginia was still 8 hours away and we had all of I-95 to contend with. I discussed taking I-77 and going through Charlotte. Oppie was firm to stay with I-95, so we did. We stopped for a quick lunch in Walterboro SC, topped off the tank and back on the road.
The trip up 95 was without event and we seemed to be making better time. The closer we got to the Richmond VA area the thicker the traffic became. We were now in the middle lane on Friday afternoon traffic. I was all for getting off the Interstate and using the surface roads. We stayed the course. We headed to Leesburg VA in the upper portion of the state. There was no way I wanted to deal with traffic on the Beltway, especially on a Friday evening.
Once through Richmond, we stopped for fuel, and I changed our route. I explained to Oppie about the Beltway and afternoon and evening traffic. After driving through Richmond, he seemed a little more flexible.
We said goodbye to the Interstate and headed off just below Fredericksburg. There were a few tense moments with Oppie as I used a paper towel to clean his passenger side mirror. Seems he doesn’t like them clean. Says it cuts down on the glare. The window tint is so dark on this truck, you can’t see through it anyway.
We made it to within 10 miles of Victor and Thor. We were beat and still had tomorrow ahead of us. I found a motel that had enough area to park the truck and trailer. A room for the night, a quick call home to Linda, a shower and “GOOD NIGHT!”
Last edited by Peggy M; 10/06/2025 2:11 AM. Reason: edit
