End of an era...

What had happened was... although I had planned for an uneventful drive home, after a great week I might add, a little adventure ensued.

Our "Last Supper" for the week had wrapped up and we went our separate ways (I think I heard that song played somewhere this week). Technically it was our "Last Lunch" but that doesn't roll off the tongue as smoothly. Anyway...as the rest of the group was headed back to the office, I was merging onto the interstate with a few hours of drive time ahead of me, nothing unusual so far.

It was somewhere before I hit Clarksville, the temp gauge my car started steadily rising. This had never happened before, and I had a feeling in my gut this didn't bode well for my day. Pulling over into a gas station I popped the hood and checked my coolant level, oil level, etc. I was little low on oil, but that wasn't crazy because she had been known to burn just a bit as she grew long in the tooth. I topped it off, and texted a bit while waiting for things to cool down.

After a nice little recess I climbed back in and resumed my travels. This time I managed to make it past Clarksville, but this landed me in the middle of B.F.E. and not a lot of help appeared to be in sight. Luckily, there happened to be this little shack of a garage so I pulled in there with my temp gauge just about pinned.

The mechanic on site, which we can only assume his name is "D", came strolling out just like you would hope to see in any movie where "city folk" pull into a small town garage hoping for help. "D" was very friendly, looking over the situation and trying to sort out what the problem may be. His conclusion was that the thermostat must have gotten stuck or gone out. The solution: drive home with the heater on full blast and the windows down. Well, by God if "D" says this is what we should do I'm going to give it a whirl. To add to his act of kindness, "D" also sent along a jug of water...just in case.

Needless to say the next hour was pretty hot, unnerving and I was able to reach breakneck speeds of 45-50 MPH, stopping every 20-30 minutes or so to let things cool down, but progress was being made nonetheless. The only thing I'm thinking at this point is just get back in town and then I can unload (keep in mind I've got my production trailer and gear in tow as well) and get her to the shop.

Crossing over the bridges in Kentucky and finally the bridge into Illinois I am feeling pretty good...confident...almost cocky that I'm going make it back. BOOM! I hear this loud pop from under the hood, and water begins shooting out from the seams around my hood and a smoke screen worthy of Spy Hunter was emitting behind me.

A few expletives later I managed to coast to an exit and down the off ramp. This exit truly was dead, I mean nothing in either direction as far as you could see. Once I look under the hood I see that my top radiator hose had just gave out, split almost the entire length. To the iPhone I go to try and see what shops anywhere around might have one and hopefully deliver a hose to me. On my third attempt the auto parts place does in fact have one, "Awesome!" I say, "Can you deliver it to me?" my heart sinks as hear the guy say that's beyond their delivery area. After some pleading, the salesman's only solution is to talk to his manager. I go on hold for about 2-3 minutes, then the manager finally picks up and I am able to sweet talk him in to delivering the part to me, but "it would take a while since we're about 30 minutes away". What else do I have to do right?

Some more texting takes place and just general time killing, and then I decide to go ahead and pull the shards of busted hose off while I wait. That'll save me time, right? Get me back on the road sooner? Sure it will. So I go around to open my trailer where I keep a tool box. I've got the door swung open, leaning inside for the tool box when I hear from the front of my car, "Looks like you's havin' sum troubles."

S@#t!

I lean my head around the side of the trailer to see, in the flesh, a picture perfect Encyclopedia Britannica definition of backwoods inbreeding. We are talking about a just dirty, sleeves cut off the what used to be black t-shirt that has turned a beautiful brownish/purple hue, by the mixture of earth and grass embedded in his jeans it appears he'd just freshly rolled around in a compost heap, the hair protruding from the tattered collar on his shirt was as long (if not longer) than what was on his head, there was enough tobacco stuck between he gaping teeth and gums for a full "dip", all around foul individual. The best part? My hand to God, his lips never touched when he talked, NOT ONCE!

What could I do? He was trying to be nice, so I just say, "Yeah, hose busted. I've got another on it's way now." Which reminds me to look at my watch...hey it'd been like 20 minutes or so already, so they'll be here any time now. I walk around the trailer and up to hood, trying my best to make small talk and stressing to him that I'm all set. Well he couldn't possibly leave before regaling me with some stories. Stories like how he rebuilt a Mustang II, plopped in a super charger with nitrous assist, went 225 mph while being chased by the "fuzz", which ended in him totaling the car, essentially ripping it in half, but of course he walked away unscathed. Did I mention he managed all of this before exiting the ripe old age of 12? SUSPICIOUS! But hey, I enjoy a good lie as much as the next guy.

TIME OUT: Now, we're all friends here. You know I would never do or say anything to mislead any of you, right? If it were possible for me to swear under oath on a blog entry that the following statement I am about to make 100% accurate I would do so without hesitation. So I need all of you to suspend any disbelief and take me at my word regarding the following statement:

The ENTIRE time this "man" was keeping me company, spinning yarns, he was stroking a 4 inch lizard he had perched horizontally on his extended index finger (occasionally he'd place it on his shirt to make sure I was paying attention) that he, you can't make this stuff up people, "found while he was weed-eating the cemetery"... OH MY GOD!

Let us resume: So good Lord, are they bringing me this hose by way of China? More than an hour has passed, I'd better call. The voice on the other end says the dreaded words, "Oh, you're on the Illinois side?" Sweet Jesus man, yes! "Well he went the other direction. Here's his cell phone number you can call him." I'm guessing because whomever was on the phone was the one responsible for passing along the wrong location he thought it best if I was the one to call. Luckily the driver was super about the whole thing and would head my way. Guess what? Now he's over an hour away! Did I mention daylight was fading?

Once I hang up the phone ol' rotten teeth is just a grinnin', "Boy ain't that just the way!" he says. For this day? Yes, yes it is. After damn near begging, my new best friend was not about to leave my side and while I was on the phone with the parts store had decided to call his wife (or cousin...whatever) to let her know he was "helping out". So while we wait he wants to give me a tour of my engine compartment, informing me of what all these "gizmos" do. Granted I was doing my best to keep a decent distance up to this point, lest I should catch anything, but he was trying to be a good guy so I figured I'd humor him.

Turns out the combination of breaking the 4 foot barrier and his extended arm into my engine bay (that's not a euphemism Ozzy), well quite frankly it unleashed Hell! This was straight up gag you B.O. I have never in my entire life smelt anything remotely close to this, not anywhere, not in a football locker room in August, I mean never. It literally was making me nauseous, on the verge on vomiting nauseous. Tried as I may to tolerate, take a step back for a second here or there, eventually I just had to walk away mid tour. "Oh, I need to talk this call." was the best I could muster as an excuse. My phone never rang.

When the delivery man finally pulled up, I swear I could've kissed him. Sure it took him over two hours to get it to me, but hey I've been waiting for stuff longer. Point was it was here now, let's slap her on there! The delivery man was very nice, smelt a ton better than my previous company, and insisted on putting on the hose. Well most delivery men are quite the talkers, they have to be, so him and "Joe Dirt" struck up some just riveting, albeit time consuming, conversations. Once the hose was on, they got side tracked in a story so I start scurrying around filling the radiator, etc. I slap that hood shut, shaked hands, thank everyone for their part, and as I am pulling away the two Chatty Cathys are STILL standing on the side of the road discussing that Holley "Double Pumper".

Whew...ok a new hose is on, I'm home free now...less than hour to go. Little did I know that I would've needed to be less than 12 miles from home, because that's all she had in her. The car started knocking, smoke rolling (from what I could tell since the sun had set now), and finally died. Again I was fortunate enough that I could coast to an off ramp. Looks like I'm getting a tow the rest of the way.

After another 30 minutes of standing on the side of a another off ramp the tow truck arrived. Luckily I had thought to mention to the towing company that I had a trailer, "It's a good thing you told us because that requires a different truck, and of course it'll cost a bit more." Well of course it will...

After Greg, the tow truck driver, loaded my car up on the flatbed we hooked up my trailer to back of his truck and off we go. The next hour was spent making small talk, but after the day I just had sitting in a cool vehicle, that would actually run, with a guy that didn't smell like a Yeti was a nice change of pace. Greg was great, and very accommodating. With all my gear I had to stop by the house, drop my trailer, unload the car of all equipment, then go drop my vehicle at the shop and then bring me bak home.

What should've been a 3 hour, boring, iPod fueled, thoughtful ride home turned into a frustrating, irritating and sometimes even funny adventure that I was able to share with all of you. I hope you enjoyed the ride as much I did recalling all the absolute absurdity that is my life.

On Friday, October 22nd, 2010 the ol' Montero has appeared to have driven it's last mile. She had one helluva run too! Lots of great times, given rides to wandering drunkards, made sure everyone made it home safe, brought us back for beers and bumper stickers...What could ever replace her? I dunno yet, but I know I look forward logging more fun times in whatever it is, and seeing where she takes us and what new adventures there are to be had.