Saturday, December 1, 2007

When life gives you lemons...go direct traffic.

We have a 96 Caravan Sport that has more than 150K miles on it and it has been through a lot. He purchased it from an acquaintance when that acquaintance was going to trade it in on a new vehicle. The reason for the trade-in: it had high mileage, mechanical problems, the aquaintance had several kids and needed more reliable transportation. The Perfect Vehicle! thinks He.

He is a mechanical guy and is good at repairing things. I can't even list the things that have been repaired on the thing--oh! excuse me--the van. But, we have had it for about 4-5 years now. Problems were fixed as they popped up and for the most part--aside from a minor rear-end collision (another story), and a front-end collision (still, another story), sideswiped (who knows?), vandalized and stereo stolen, air conditioner motor burning out so no AC in the summer except "4-90 air" (four windows down--90 mph), etc., it has been a decent enough vehicle used for hauling house rehab stuff. It's his workhorse--and the dog's car. But whenever He'd go anywhere with it He might say, "keep your phone turned on in case I break down."

Well, last week the right front tire picked up a bolt and washer from the road somewhere and I noticed it upon hearing the clickity-click-click sound it made against the roadway. It happened while on the way home from errand. Amazingly, the tire didn't go flat. A few days passed before deciding to take the van to get the tire fixed. He convinced me that he was too busy and that if I drove slowly (not over 50 mph), I could make it to the tire shop to get the tire replaced. Okay. I took it. The hole in the tire was plugged successfully. I headed home.

It was a cold day and it was raining lightly, the heater was on and the windows fogged up. So I turned on the defroster. Did you know that the defroster works through the air conditioner? I didn't and He admitted later that he didn't either.

All was well until I exited the freeway 44 at Vandeventer and stopped at the red light at the bottom of the ramp. The traffic was heavy and lights are timed long. The engine started sputtering, choking and nearly died three times while I stared blankly--the vehicle's life flashing before my eyes. Then it died. I took a deep breath and attempted to start it again. It started but promptly chugged to it's death again.

The light changed to green and the traffic that had lined up behind me began to move. Hazard lights now on, I rolled the window down and started waving traffic around me. A semi-truck was barreling down the ramp toward me so I decided I needed to get out of the van, put the hood up and to go to the island for safety. I resumed waving at traffic to go around. During this time I had managed to call Him and He was on his way. The rain was cold and there was a mild wind--winter was in the air. Oddly, I had a smile on my face as I directed traffic around me, imagining myself as a traffic cop, wishing I had a whistle.

Three or four light changes occurred and only one person stopped to help me; a young man had pulled over across the street and ran over to offer his assistance, made several suggestions, tried a couple of things, and seemed very savvy about engines. Smoke began to billow from the engine. Ackkk! Just then, He arrived. I thanked the young man explaining that my husband was here now, is a mechanical guy and is good at repairing things, and that He could take care of it. I watched the young man cross the street and go back to his car. As the young man passed Him, I recalled a time in the early 70's when I was single and had a flat tire on the side of a busy road in Sacramento, in the rain, and a similar young man stopped to help me...ahhh, but I digress.

The repair was simple upon discovery of the relation of the AC to the defroster. The AC was simply disconnected. So, the van still sits proudly outside. It had made it through another crisis and neither of us was no worse for the wear. Also, I discovered that I can be calm in a stressful situation and I could direct traffic quite well.

1 comment:

  1. I want to hear more about the young man who stopped to help you in the 70's.

    ReplyDelete