Getting Geared Up (Part 1)
A couple weeks ago, my truck sort of gave out, which is odd, because it is a mere 14 years old. I don't think I have ever owned a vehicle that was born in the same decade as the year I bought it. As you would guess, I'm sort of used to car trouble.
Of course, the truck waited to break down until my wife, Sara, was driving it all alone. It had been desperately hanging on up until this point, waiting for the chance to wreak the most havoc. Or, possibly, it had done everything it could to warn us that it was on the verge of total system failure and I just missed it. In retrospect, I guess there were a few subtle, practically imperceptible warning signs I should have picked up on:
1) It shimmied and shook every time you got it to a fairly high speed, upwards of 25 mph.
2) It made a noise, similar to a freight train screeching down the tracks with the emergency brakes on full stop.
3) It refused to go into fourth gear.
4) My wife repeatedly saying things like, "I think there's something wrong with your truck," and, "I'm pretty sure there is something obviously wrong with your truck."
In my defense, I knew it needed some work done but had been optimistically thinking that it could hold out until we had some spare money saved up. And by "optimistically," I mean, "foolishly." I may as well have been waiting to get struck by lightening while holding a winning lottery ticket, during a shark attack.
Anyway, Sara was driving the truck home from being out of town for the weekend. She almost made it. Ring Luck would not allow the truck to break down in town, next to a mechanic or anything. I should point out that she was out of town because she was taking an intense leadership training course in which the participants are required to camp outdoors. I think she woke up one morning to snow on the ground. Therefore, she was exhausted, the truck was fully loaded with all of her camping gear, she was fifteen miles from home, and all by herself on the interstate - the perfect recipe for vehicle failure.
When I got the call, I immediately loaded up the kids and headed out to help. By "immediately" I mean, "at least 20 minutes later" because the kids somehow manage to actually go slower during emergency situations than they do normally. And that is no easy task. There was time for two separate police officers to stop by and check to make sure Sara was all right, and to gently remind her that this vehicle could only be left here for 24 hours.
The first priority was to get to my wife because she was all alone and stranded on the side of the road. The second priority was to take a look at the truck. After we arrived and got settled, I approached the truck. Now, Sara had already done everything that anyone would normally do to get a vehicle moving. But, being a guy, society obligates me to pretend like I have some clue as to what is going on in a car's engine. After repeating everything she had tried, I confidently conclude, "Yep. It's broken all right."
You'd think all my experience with cars in less-than-prime condition would give me some sort of mechanical talent. Surprisingly, it doesn't. I know about as much about fixing car engines as I do about girls fashion and hair care. Anyone who has seen the way I have sent my daughters to day care can attest to the fact that this means "not much."
I have, however, learned a lot about sitting on the side of the road, walking down highways, being late for work and so on. It would be nice if I could pick up something slightly more useful, such as getting a vehicle to operate when it won't start, or preventing it from stalling in the path of an oncoming tractor trailer, but I think that, for me, this is just a pipe dream.
Eventually we got it all worked out, through a series of events that will have to be the subject of another post, involving tow truck drivers, mechanics and the inconveniences of having three kids in three different places, two full time working adults and only one functioning vehicle.
This time, I wouldn't say I learned anything new but instead was reminded of several things I already knew: 1. Owning a vehicle will always be a huge, money consuming drain on your finances. It doesn't matter how great the condition is when you buy it, it will always need gas, tires and pieces of it will eventually fall off, and the sooner you accept that fact, the better; 2. We should be thankful that we live in an technological era of cell phones, WiFi, GPS and such, so that these situations are not nearly as stressful as they used to be not that long ago; and 3. A towing rider on your auto insurance is an inexpensive yet invaluable addition to your policy, and it would have been nice to have had one.
Of course, the truck waited to break down until my wife, Sara, was driving it all alone. It had been desperately hanging on up until this point, waiting for the chance to wreak the most havoc. Or, possibly, it had done everything it could to warn us that it was on the verge of total system failure and I just missed it. In retrospect, I guess there were a few subtle, practically imperceptible warning signs I should have picked up on:
1) It shimmied and shook every time you got it to a fairly high speed, upwards of 25 mph.
2) It made a noise, similar to a freight train screeching down the tracks with the emergency brakes on full stop.
3) It refused to go into fourth gear.
4) My wife repeatedly saying things like, "I think there's something wrong with your truck," and, "I'm pretty sure there is something obviously wrong with your truck."
In my defense, I knew it needed some work done but had been optimistically thinking that it could hold out until we had some spare money saved up. And by "optimistically," I mean, "foolishly." I may as well have been waiting to get struck by lightening while holding a winning lottery ticket, during a shark attack.
Anyway, Sara was driving the truck home from being out of town for the weekend. She almost made it. Ring Luck would not allow the truck to break down in town, next to a mechanic or anything. I should point out that she was out of town because she was taking an intense leadership training course in which the participants are required to camp outdoors. I think she woke up one morning to snow on the ground. Therefore, she was exhausted, the truck was fully loaded with all of her camping gear, she was fifteen miles from home, and all by herself on the interstate - the perfect recipe for vehicle failure.
When I got the call, I immediately loaded up the kids and headed out to help. By "immediately" I mean, "at least 20 minutes later" because the kids somehow manage to actually go slower during emergency situations than they do normally. And that is no easy task. There was time for two separate police officers to stop by and check to make sure Sara was all right, and to gently remind her that this vehicle could only be left here for 24 hours.
The first priority was to get to my wife because she was all alone and stranded on the side of the road. The second priority was to take a look at the truck. After we arrived and got settled, I approached the truck. Now, Sara had already done everything that anyone would normally do to get a vehicle moving. But, being a guy, society obligates me to pretend like I have some clue as to what is going on in a car's engine. After repeating everything she had tried, I confidently conclude, "Yep. It's broken all right."
You'd think all my experience with cars in less-than-prime condition would give me some sort of mechanical talent. Surprisingly, it doesn't. I know about as much about fixing car engines as I do about girls fashion and hair care. Anyone who has seen the way I have sent my daughters to day care can attest to the fact that this means "not much."
I have, however, learned a lot about sitting on the side of the road, walking down highways, being late for work and so on. It would be nice if I could pick up something slightly more useful, such as getting a vehicle to operate when it won't start, or preventing it from stalling in the path of an oncoming tractor trailer, but I think that, for me, this is just a pipe dream.
Eventually we got it all worked out, through a series of events that will have to be the subject of another post, involving tow truck drivers, mechanics and the inconveniences of having three kids in three different places, two full time working adults and only one functioning vehicle.
This time, I wouldn't say I learned anything new but instead was reminded of several things I already knew: 1. Owning a vehicle will always be a huge, money consuming drain on your finances. It doesn't matter how great the condition is when you buy it, it will always need gas, tires and pieces of it will eventually fall off, and the sooner you accept that fact, the better; 2. We should be thankful that we live in an technological era of cell phones, WiFi, GPS and such, so that these situations are not nearly as stressful as they used to be not that long ago; and 3. A towing rider on your auto insurance is an inexpensive yet invaluable addition to your policy, and it would have been nice to have had one.
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