It was a great day to hit the road. Our new 32- foot Pathfinder motor home was packed and ready to go. We had decided to tow our small Toyota pickup so we could explore the tiny country roads which always seemed to beg to be explored. For some unknown reason, which I, being female didn't understand, my husband announced the Toyota couldn't be towed. I will never know what possessed me; temporary insanity, I suppose; anyway I heard myself saying that I would drive the pickup and follow closely behind him.
The last thing I said to Martin, my husband, was, “Don't you dare let me out of your sight! If a red light catches me, pull over and wait for me.” That was before cell phones and neither did we have CB radios.
Things went well for a few hours. It was a beautiful day in June and we had looked forward to retirement and taking trips at a much slower pace than the military had allowed. I was realizing that this was a very good arrangement. I could have the radio station of my choice and might even help the singer out a bit if I chose. Best of all, I did not have to smell his cigars all day long. Yes, this was definitely the way to go! Somewhere around 35 miles from the city limits of Austin, Texas was a small town where we had prearranged to gas up. This was where the saga began. He remarked before pulling out, “Louise, don't forget to put your gas cap on securely. Also, you don't have to hang so close to my rear.” I had been known to drive away from the pump with my gas cap on top of the car. The Pathfinder pulled out with the red Toyota close on its tail.
Just as I pulled out, I heard a shout from some young men. Feeling certain they were telling me I had left the gas cap off, I quickly pulled over to check. I hastily looked but, sure enough, the cap was on. I knew this had all happened so fast that Martin hadn't missed me so I floor-boarded that little red truck. There were several cars in front of me and I quickly passed them, anxious to take my place on that Pathfinder's tail.
Well, I soon realized that there were no cars in front of me and, instead of finding the motor home, there was only a stretch of wide, flat, open road. My mind began to argue, “That's impossible! He couldn't have gotten enough speed that quickly to disappear from my sight.” By this time my one thought was to catch him at any cost. I looked at the speedometer and it was on 85. I pressed harder on the gas pedal and it eased on to 90. I strained my eyes, trying to spot the motor home in the distance, but it just wasn't there. I've never believed in UFOs, aliens, and the like, but by this time I'm thinking, “Maybe he was taken, motor home and all!”
About this time, I spotted a sign reading “Austin City Limits”. I thought my heart would stop beating for sure. The only thing bigger than my fear of not catching that motor home was my fear of driving in Austin, Texas. I was debating pulling off the road and studying my situation a bit when I happened to glance in my rear-view mirror. A casual thought popped in my mind. “Someone has a motor home just like ours. “ I thought. Then I noticed it seemed to be trying to pull up even with me. I glanced over and saw a dead ringer for my husband. “What a coincidence” I thought. I knew my husband was still somewhere out in front of me.
He finally got me to pull over and I cannot repeat much of the dialogue from either party, but he swore the windshield was breathing in and out and was threatening to break at any moment. He also said we would have to find a garage. The high speed chase had blown something called a manifold and I don't remember what else. Anyway, it came to $415. Oh, we also purchased two CB radios that same day.
One more thing he stated was that when this little red blur flashed past where he had pulled off to wait for me, it took him several seconds to realize it was a red Toyota and it would definitely be a miracle if he ever caught me!