Ron assured me (and himself) that all would be well. He had calculated the weight limits for both our trailer and the Transit. We were safely under both. Biggest concern was that the house was not actually sitting inside the trailer where it would be safer. It was still resting on the boards we had put on top of the rails. One wrong move and it might fall right off.
Deep breaths all around and Ron drove us carefully up Larry’s driveway and onto the road. So far; so good. Took him a few miles to get used to the heavy load and to figure out just how slowly he was going to drive. We never broke 40 MPH the whole way home. I had planned to knit during the drive home. Not happening. It was a white knuckle ride the whole way. I was watching on my side for traffic, loose straps, flying objects, bumps in the road and of course, our route home. Ron watched for traffic behind him and any lousy road conditions. The road wasn’t too busy, thank goodness because every time we had more than one vehicle behind, Ron pulled over to let them pass. The speed limit ranged from 35 to 55 and we much preferred it at 35. Then we didn’t have to feel guilty about holding other drivers up. A few of those drivers needed driving lessons as they were right on our bumper. Some seriously foolish people are driving about the place. Our route took us around Oneida Lake and we were really thankful for the great weather. We were a bit chilly though as Ron had both windows down listening for any noises. I am surprise neither of us ended up with whiplash as our heads snapped around at every odd sound. Then Ron asked me to see if he had Dick Crane’s phone number written down in his notebook. He was the farmer who plowed the field and planted the oats for us. I was going to try calling to see if he would be willing to use his equipment to move our privy into place. No luck in finding the number. And I have no idea if or how you can call information anymore. Ron was throwing out ideas left and right as he fought the realization that he was going to have to take his outhouse right to the farm and leave it there. There was no way for us to take it to our house and get some work on there. Too bad as I was going to lose my chance to use a great line – when neighbors asked why we had the outhouse, I was going to explain that “we were going totally off the grid.”
When we got to Sylvan Beach, Ron had accepted his fate and sadly told me to change our destination to the Farm. Now we just had to figure out how we were going to get safely down the path with the Transit and trailer in tow and then get ourselves back out. The only other vehicle we have driven that route is the 4 wheeler and that we have just driven around the tree and back out. There is no way the Transit could make that same move. If the path is at all muddy, we would sure as heck get stuck. I could just see the face of the AAA tow truck driver we would have to call to rescue us. Then all three of us would have had a story to tell.
Remember when I told you that we had learned the hard way to stay off any unknown road with Hill in the name? Guess we did not learn that lesson well enough. Yeah, we were sent up and I do mean up, Hill Road in order to connect with Route 26. That was a long slow drive as it not only went up, it went around. Every little bump or heave we felt or heard sent chills down our spines. Maybe that’s why my back ached when we finally did get home. It was a welcome sight when we finally spotted the familiar flashing lights on Route 26, we were almost there. Ron pulled off the road just before our turn and we breathed a sigh of relief. We left the flashers on; they had been going for the entire trip and walked across the road. Then we walked down the path, testing the conditions and figuring out just how Ron should drive down it. He decided exactly where he wanted us to stop and we walked back to the road. I really wished the outhouse was functioning as I would have happily christened it.
While I directed him, Ron came down the road at an angle in order to avoid bottoming out. When he got fully off the highway and straight on the path, he just kept going. He was “winging it”. Did not want to take the chance of him stopping and then get stuck.
He stopped and I caught up with him. Now we just had to get the trailer unhooked so we could drive away. Ron had already planned on using the jack if need be in order to get the trailer coupler off of the hitch ball. To our delight when he cranked the tongue jack down and it hit the ground and he released the locking latch on the coupler, the level of the Transit dropped a good 4 to 5 inches. It was totally clear. Such a relief.

Now we got out a tarp and some tie down straps. We were not going to leave the house unprotected. That done, Ron got back behind the wheel for the last challenge. He drove forward, then backed up and turned around to head back out. Absolutely no trouble at all. I was back in photographer mode, taking shots as I walked behind him. Could have danced with joy when I got back in the Transit. We were done and ready to head home.

Ron was so ramped up that he couldn’t settle down and he decided that we were going to head back to Syracuse to hit Wegman’s and Costco. They had been part of the original plan and he never likes leaving things undone. It added hours to our day, but we were so excited that we just did not care. Everything that could have gone wrong, didn’t. Life was good.