Hi. I forgot I had a blog. Now I'm back to bitch. Of course. But I also have some good shit to say, even if it feels like nothing is going well.
Most people know that we left Chicago on Monday to start our road trip to California. We planned it like we planned all of our road trips: on the fly, on a budget, and three days long. Except. It's Friday now. And we are in Winnemucca, Nevada.
I could go into a long explanation on what happened, but the short of it is that in the middle of Wyoming, our car started acting like a fool. We stayed overnight in Rawlins, consulted with a mechanic, and thought the problem was fixed.
No.
On the way to Salt Lake City on Wednesday (and a day late already), the issue presented itself again. It happened on the fucking mountain pass between the border of Wyoming and SLC. That was not fun and it was mildly terrifying. We chug into a shop that I found. They took us to our motel when it was determined that the problem would take a while.
Thursday dawns, and the shop is called. The problem is identified. A quote is given ($995!), and we give the go ahead for it to be fixed. We pick it up that night, and it seems to be running fine.
That brings us to this morning.
We left Salt Lake City. The car was running smoothly. I took over driving for my husband in Wells, Nevada.
And the trouble started again. While I was driving. Through a fucking mountain pass.
Yeah.
We found a rest area and my husband took over. The issue persisted. By this time, we were 80 miles from Winnemucca. I was frantically calling shops, calling my mom, and trying to pray for our safety (which is hard when you kind of give up on religion). We limped in to Winnemucca and promptly stalled out on the main road. Of course. My husband eventually found a place to park, I eventually got connected with a shop, and we were on our way, trying not to stall.
And now here I am. The car is with the shop, my parents are on their way (500 miles and 8 hours....I owe them so damned much), and here we are in another motel.
I'm understandably done with this day, this week, this whole fucking journey. I've cried too damned much today. I'm crying now because I have no idea what's going to happen, how we're going to pay for this shit (because it will probably be expensive), and how we're even going to make it back to Chicago.
So now that I've gotten that out of the way, let me say that my faith in humanity has restored. Everyone that has helped us has gone out of their way to make sure we are safe and taken care of. The mechanics in Rawlins suggested shit before doing unnecessary work. It didn't work forever, but it held out until we got to SLC. The Rawlins Days Inn front desk clerks gave us a "break-down" rate and waived the pet fee.
In Salt Lake City, I have a ton of gratitude for the mechanics who got us in as fast as possible, gave us a ride to the motel, and did everything they could to make sure our car was okay. That also didn't work, but the more I think about it, the more I don't really fault them. This car is a damned lemon, and we should have dumped it years ago, but we kind of needed transportation and couldn't get anything new. So yeah.
The Midvale La Quinta also gets my love for squeezing us in after I figured we'd have to be in SLC for another night and we didn't want to stay at the ass Motel 6 again. They let us check-in early, gave us a nice room, and were the best people ever. I also give special thanks to our dear friend Ash for picking us up to take us to the mechanic when the car was ready, and it was lovely to see her and our other friend Dagny for a few hours.
Everyone I have talked to in Winnemucca has been extremely helpful. So many shops had too much work to do (races going on), but they had no problem recommending other places and getting me in touch with them. The gentleman that is fixing our car got us in today. He calmed me down (because duh, anxiety and just being generally upset), got us in to a motel with a special rate, and gave us a lift over to the place. The lady who runs the motel is sweet as hell, and this whole place gives me shades of the 70s, because it looks like my grandma's living room. I love it.
I realize things could be worse. A lot worse. I expect them to get worse, but I'm hoping they don't. I hope that it is something that can be easily fixed and isn't expensive. Hell, even if it gets us into California, that would be great. I can work shit out from California.
I'm weary. I love that we get to spend time together as a family, but the worry has me worn down. I can only imagine how my husband feels. He's taken the brunt of the driving, the brunt of me freaking out, the brunt of the worry because it's his car and his mode of transportation to work. He's asleep now, and I'm not even saying shit. He needs the rest.
So that is my saga so far. I can only hope that my faith in humanity will continue on and that we will be on our way tomorrow with not that much money spent and a car that will run for just a bit longer.
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