So, the other day we tried to move to Virginia. The trip was totally well intentioned, well planned, well packed, and executed with 11 days before school started so that we would have time to get settled in Charlottesville, see the lay of the land, and get unpacked before the late nights of case book readings started. Some might say we tempted fate.
We woke up leisurely, had a wonderful breakfast and about noon we drove off with a full tank of gas and hope in our eyes. That hope was crushed. At about 4:30 the car started sounding like it was being driven over a rumble strip while we were in the middle of the lane. Sarah asked what it was and I calmy replied that it was just the different road we were on. You can guess where that got us. At about 4:50 we were passing through beautiful Palisade, CO. A small suburb of Grand Junction known for it's peaches and wineries. (The peach festival is actually next Thursday through Sunday) So right before the last exit into Palisade, and on the edge of a 68 mile strip of nothing, the car made a VERY LOUD rumble strip sound that I interpreted as something like "Get off the road right now or you, the girl, and the boy die an agonizing death in the ruthless high-deserts of Colorado". So we got off.
We made it staggeringly to a gas station, called a mechanic, went back to the car to drive to said mechanic and the car wouldn't move. Then the race was on. Palisade (as you might imagine) closes at 5 o'clock on a Friday. Everything closes. And they don't work overtime for emergencies. So we called everyone in town, found one mechanic that would look at the car on Saturday but not start ordering parts until Monday and resigned to our fate. I walked two miles to a motel that wasn't answering their phones and found it very nice, unlocked, and completely vacant with a post-it note on the door saying "Sorry, No Vacancies". So I walked two miles back on a very pretty country road to the gas station where I had left my wife and new baby nursing at a table next to the cold drinks.
With only one option left, we booked a room at the nearby Mesaview Motel that was described as "a step up from the Bates Motel". We grabbed some food from the cooler we brought, strapped our bags onto me and walked to the motel. Hail the Conquering Heros!
The hotel room was interesting, with no clock or three-prong plugs and a swamp cooler that gave the entirely Polyester furnishings a welcoming stickiness.
The next morning we got our car towed to a shop under the freeway in Orchard Mesa to get looked at by a very interesting man with a minimum of people skills. He was kind enough to take us to a nearby Borders Bookstore where we spent the next four hours reading, making fruitless calls and nursing in the Children's Section.
By 1:00 Jim and Char had driven 4 hours to save us a minimum of three more days in the Mesaview Motel with no car, a baby, and food only available from a gas station. Thank heaven for families.
We received a warm welcome back in Draper (complete with "Welcome Home" sign and are awaiting a call from the mechanic on Monday afternoon. His guess is at least $2,200 to fix the car, which he hopes can be done by Tuesday but could easily take a couple of weeks. Meanwhile, back in Draper, I am planning to buy a plane ticket so I can pick up the boxes that we shipped last Monday and be present the day School starts so they don't give away my seat.
Stay tune for more exciting adventures the next time we "Try to Move to Virginia"!
2 comments:
That is a sad, sad tale. We've been praying for you. I am at least glad to hear that you are at Sarah's parents house in Draper instead of spending your days of waiting in the bookstore. Good luck with the next attempt!
That is no fun! and you guys were so geared up to go. I hope that you come up with the best solution to the problem. And Landon, you are a great story teller. You should write a book or something.
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