This has turned into such a travesty, I don't quite know how to summon the courage to write it. Maybe it will be cathartic.
OK, here goes.
The truck work got done, the truck felt great, and the ride to Maine was uneventful. Early yesterday morning I went to the trailer place and picked up the trailer. Trailer and truck mated nicely, and I was on the road by 8:45 - with some serious trepidation as the trailer really is tremendous.
I've been concerned about weights, so the trailer place directed me to a quarry where I could ask to get weighed. No problem, very nice people, "pull right on the scale". That's when the first bit of bad news for the day was delivered - 16,740 pounds with the trailer empty and only me in the truck. Since I was 99% certain the GCWR (Gross Combined Weight Rating) for the truck was 20,000 lbs, it was immediately evident that two cars were not going in the trailer if we wanted to stay legal. OK - I'll have to call my son and tell him that the truck, which has just had the pleasure of getting all kinds of goodies, maintenance, tires, etc., is not going to be usable for our purpose.
So - I pull off the scale, go to the turnaround area to make a nice sweeping left-hand U-turn, and as I'm doing that I hear BAM - and the rear window of the truck cab has exploded. I conclude (maybe too quickly) that because the truck has a short bed, the corner of the trailer must have hit the window during the sharp part of the turn. One more reason this truck/trailer combo isn't going to work, and now I'd better be real careful on tight turns.
Now I start a backroad trek to the Interstate. Narrow, winding, up and down hills - but I'm able to do it without taking out any roadside mailboxes or other such annoyances. Get to the interstate and find that I'm now south of the service area that I'd identified on the way up as where I wanted to get my first fuel fillup. OK, there's plenty more down the road and I really am not low on fuel.
About 30 minutes later I pull into the next service area. (I'd already decided that I would only go to roadside interstate service areas so that I could pretty much pull straight in and straight out, avoiding the sharp maneuvers that I was concerned about.) OK - follow the truck signs, get to the diesel pumps, and fill up with no problem. Now I want to park and take a little break. Well, the truck parking area is a zoo - very crowded, narrow lanes, and the only available spaces are ones that I'd have to back out of (or wait for the truck that would be in front of me to leave). I decide to go to the next service area, so I start to leave this one. I'm proceeding down a lane between trucks, heading to the end where I need to make a left to get back to the highway. I'm concerned about getting too "deep" before starting the left (because then it would have to be too sharp), so I slowly and carefully go as far as I think I can before beginning the left. All seems to be OK until I feel like the brakes have been applied - but they haven't been. I stop - everything in the mirrors looks OK, so what's going on? Well, looking out the driver's side window told me - I'd turned a little too early and the side of the trailer was now impaled by the rear corner of a flatbed trailer. I'm SICK!!! I start to figure out what I want to do - Reverse? to the left? to the right? forward? to the right? Somehow or other, I manage to get free, and I'm so embarrassed and upset, I simply drive away - with pieces of the side of the trailer visible in the rearview mirror flapping in the wind.
Making a long story slightly shorter, the rest of the trip was nerve-wracking but event-free. Even a few troopers passed me, gave the trailer and me the "eye" but didn't see the need to pull me over.
So - the tally now is that we need to get the trailer repaired (my guess is that the bill will be in the $3,000 range), the truck replaced, and the women in our lives accepting of the fact that we're really not crazy and over our heads.
Done for now.