A Very Unsatisfactory Roadside Assistance Experience
Last week, we were on our annual trek to Texas for the winter. We were on a major two-lane highway, two hours north of Victoria, Texas, when the engine died on our motorhome. There was a blinding rainstorm, and the semi and auto traffic was very heavy, though it was a Saturday.
We were still on the roadway, but I managed to re-fire the engine and ease off the shoulder, with one foot separating us from the race-track lanes of traffic. We pulled our Good Sam Roadside Assistance card, and placed our call. The person on the other end asked countless questions, including, of course, "where are you?" What kind of RV are you in? How long is it? Is it gas, or diesel? How tall is it? Is the engine in front or in back? What happened? What brand is it? What model is it? And on, and on.
Why, Good Sam, don't you have this information on record? You have our money for the service, but you know nothing about our equipment. That's inexcusable.
We end the call, with a promise of a call-back once they know more. The time was 11:49 am. Many minutes passed, but the call did come back, and they hadn't located anyone who could tow us. To put this in perspective, we were less that 20 miles from Interstate 35, one of America's busiest north/south routes. We knew there was a wide range of tow equipment all along that route. Another call-back was promised. At some point after 1:30, a new caller made contact with us, and they asked every single question the first Good Sam person had made. They never identified themselves, but said they would continue to try and locate a tow. We explained that we were in a dire situation, barely off the highway, on a sharp curve, in pouring rain and heavy highway traffic dangerously close to us. Big Deal! My plea was water off a duck's back.
At 2:00, still not hearing another word, we called the second caller, and our ID showed their location as Blue Springs, Missouri. After begging for answers, nothing had changed. "Still looking."
Approximately 2:20, we receive a 3rd call. "Your tow is less than 15 minutes from your location." Approximately 2:45, I call back, telling them no one has showed up. "They're less than 15 minutes away, you will see them soon."
At 3:00, over three hours after breaking down, we receive a text from Good Sam, asking if we have been towed. It's a yes or no question, and we hit 'no'. A minute or so later, a Good Sam rep calls, and after telling him of the broken promises, he says, "We use second and third party businesses to line up the needed services, so we don't know what they will promise. I'll check into it.
3:30, another call. "Your tow is no more than 10 to 15 minutes from your location." We were asked our location during every call, and gave it precisely. Thank you, GPS.
I call again at 4:00, and get a different rep. Good Sam? Blue Springs, who knows? "You should see your tow at any moment." Right.
At 4:45, we receive another call, and my wife answers the phone. "Are you the semi driver that's broke down?" the caller asks. "No," my wife tells him. "We are in a 42 foot motorhome, pulling a SUV, and we're broke done. Are you a towing service?"
"Motorhome? I was told to come out and tow in a tractor-trailer rig, not no motorhome! Where are you, anyway?" He had been sent in the OPPOSITE direction from us, and now he had to back-track.
At this point, we're ready to spit fire, but not at the current caller. At 5:05, he comes around the sharp bend in the highway, and hits his emergency lights when he sees us. When he gets turned around and returns, he pulls in front of us, and comes back to talk to me. I had just disconnected the toad. "Can you tow us to safety?" I ask him. "I don't know. Let me crawl under the front end and have a look." Since we were on a Freightliner chassis, we lucked out, and FIVE HOURS AND FIFTEEN MINUTES after breaking down, he set about hooking up our front end.
FIVE HOURS AND FIFTEEN MINUTES, Good Sam.
Do you have any idea what it feels like to be stranded like that, passed on from one service to the next, broken promise after broken promise, in a very dangerous situation?
At 40,000-some thousands pounds, our right side had sunk into the mud, and the tow driver was a miracle worker with his ability to remove the driveshaft.
At 6:00+ that evening, we were dropped outside the gates at the Lonestar Freightliner dealership near Bryan, Texas. They, of course, had closed for the day, so we spent the next three days boondocking in the mud. The breakdown? A broken belt, which was ordered on Monday and replaced on Tuesday.
Good Sam, you dropped the ball all the way around. Your second or third party support was nil. We were constantly fed false promises, and to repeat everything, over and over, is beyond reason.
How do you think my wife and I enjoyed this experience?
We were still on the roadway, but I managed to re-fire the engine and ease off the shoulder, with one foot separating us from the race-track lanes of traffic. We pulled our Good Sam Roadside Assistance card, and placed our call. The person on the other end asked countless questions, including, of course, "where are you?" What kind of RV are you in? How long is it? Is it gas, or diesel? How tall is it? Is the engine in front or in back? What happened? What brand is it? What model is it? And on, and on.
Why, Good Sam, don't you have this information on record? You have our money for the service, but you know nothing about our equipment. That's inexcusable.
We end the call, with a promise of a call-back once they know more. The time was 11:49 am. Many minutes passed, but the call did come back, and they hadn't located anyone who could tow us. To put this in perspective, we were less that 20 miles from Interstate 35, one of America's busiest north/south routes. We knew there was a wide range of tow equipment all along that route. Another call-back was promised. At some point after 1:30, a new caller made contact with us, and they asked every single question the first Good Sam person had made. They never identified themselves, but said they would continue to try and locate a tow. We explained that we were in a dire situation, barely off the highway, on a sharp curve, in pouring rain and heavy highway traffic dangerously close to us. Big Deal! My plea was water off a duck's back.
At 2:00, still not hearing another word, we called the second caller, and our ID showed their location as Blue Springs, Missouri. After begging for answers, nothing had changed. "Still looking."
Approximately 2:20, we receive a 3rd call. "Your tow is less than 15 minutes from your location." Approximately 2:45, I call back, telling them no one has showed up. "They're less than 15 minutes away, you will see them soon."
At 3:00, over three hours after breaking down, we receive a text from Good Sam, asking if we have been towed. It's a yes or no question, and we hit 'no'. A minute or so later, a Good Sam rep calls, and after telling him of the broken promises, he says, "We use second and third party businesses to line up the needed services, so we don't know what they will promise. I'll check into it.
3:30, another call. "Your tow is no more than 10 to 15 minutes from your location." We were asked our location during every call, and gave it precisely. Thank you, GPS.
I call again at 4:00, and get a different rep. Good Sam? Blue Springs, who knows? "You should see your tow at any moment." Right.
At 4:45, we receive another call, and my wife answers the phone. "Are you the semi driver that's broke down?" the caller asks. "No," my wife tells him. "We are in a 42 foot motorhome, pulling a SUV, and we're broke done. Are you a towing service?"
"Motorhome? I was told to come out and tow in a tractor-trailer rig, not no motorhome! Where are you, anyway?" He had been sent in the OPPOSITE direction from us, and now he had to back-track.
At this point, we're ready to spit fire, but not at the current caller. At 5:05, he comes around the sharp bend in the highway, and hits his emergency lights when he sees us. When he gets turned around and returns, he pulls in front of us, and comes back to talk to me. I had just disconnected the toad. "Can you tow us to safety?" I ask him. "I don't know. Let me crawl under the front end and have a look." Since we were on a Freightliner chassis, we lucked out, and FIVE HOURS AND FIFTEEN MINUTES after breaking down, he set about hooking up our front end.
FIVE HOURS AND FIFTEEN MINUTES, Good Sam.
Do you have any idea what it feels like to be stranded like that, passed on from one service to the next, broken promise after broken promise, in a very dangerous situation?
At 40,000-some thousands pounds, our right side had sunk into the mud, and the tow driver was a miracle worker with his ability to remove the driveshaft.
At 6:00+ that evening, we were dropped outside the gates at the Lonestar Freightliner dealership near Bryan, Texas. They, of course, had closed for the day, so we spent the next three days boondocking in the mud. The breakdown? A broken belt, which was ordered on Monday and replaced on Tuesday.
Good Sam, you dropped the ball all the way around. Your second or third party support was nil. We were constantly fed false promises, and to repeat everything, over and over, is beyond reason.
How do you think my wife and I enjoyed this experience?
