So I have made it through another summer of vacation and travel. If you really know me this is quite a feat. I have absolutely no idea what I am thinking every time I get in a car or a plane and travel more than 2 hours away from my comfort zone. There should be a law that keeps people like me in my own state.
My first trip this summer was to American Samoa. Ooooh, aaaah sounds like paradise. Well it is paradise and I had a great time. I also got to spend it with Clif, Julia and the boys coupled with a whole lot of uncomfortable silences, 100% humidity, and a strange rash that has yet to disappear two months later. I really should seek the advice of a medical professional, but it could involve removing my pants and I just don't like the way my doctor looks at me.
Upon returning to civilization I decided to leave it again and head to Oregon. No internet= no Facebook= no Farmtown= Jon goes crazy, don't mind if I do! Proof that I have no business travelling reared its ugly head quite quickly and in less than a week the first mishap occurred. The family and I went out to River Forks Park near Roseburg, Oregon. It's a great place to take the kids and there is a lot of shade. We arrived there with no problems and after a couple of hours headed back to Winston. Stopping at the drugstore on the way back I noticed that the rear passenger tire was low. No big deal, I have a can of fix a flat for just such occasions (fix a flat is standard issue in Harty and Humphreys vehicles). So I check out the tire and I can hear air coming out. I feel around and this is what I find in my tire:
No joke. A 1/4 craftsman end wrench round part first. Lifetime guarantee to flatten any tire. This is Harty luck. Do not try this at home, I am a professional.
My trusty VW vanagon (now with 4 new tires) still had a few tricks up it's sleeve. On one of my many trips to the Winston Public Library, our only internet hotspot in town, a young man knocks on our window. He politely informs us that we are leaking a little bit of oil. No big deal I say to myself, it's a VW. I decide to check on it just to be safe, (remember I am a professional) and leading out of the parking lot the way we came is an automotive blood trail. I quickly check under the care to make sure that I am not dragging some friendly woodland creature. I am not so lucky. A large pool of VW blood worthy of Gil Grissom is accumulating under the engine. I look for any signs of end wrenches that may have pierced the engine block, nothing. I inspect for women's underpants, pointed sticks, walnuts, and labrador retrievers, any logical explanation for the hemmorage, again nothing. As luck would have it (I use this term loosely) my friend Bryce was there to help motivate me to fix the problem. However, as any VW owner knows you cannot just go down to the local Checker Auto and get what you need. Forms need to be filled out, Politicians need to be bribed, and Santa Claus needs to be informed of the situation. When you do find what you need, Bryce points out that the belt that you bought is a millimeter too big and a micron too wide. More forms are filled out, etc., etc. Finally a european auto parts store is located and after calling 100 times in ten minute intervals, the clerk decides to answer the phone. "Yes I have your part, yes Kris Kringle has contacted me as has Larry Craig. Yes he was in the restroom in the next stall. He told me in sign language (by running his hand back and forth under the stall partition) you were calling and asked me in Morse code (by tapping his foot) if I had an extra roll of toilet paper and a 1/4 inch craftsman end wrench he could borrow as he had misplaced his in the tire of a VW Vanagon. So Bryce and I go to the parts store to get the seal that needs replacing. "That seal is round" Bryce says. "The old seal is flat". "That is because there is more than one company that makes the replacement" says the clerk. "But that seal is round and ours is flat". The clerk just looks at him, then at me. "We'll take it" I say.
So we finally make it out of Oregon and to California where we origionally intended to stay for a week or two. Unfortunately after spending all of our money on keeping the VW running I got to stay and paint houses for three weeks. Yeah! While on a job, my father-in-laws Jeep Wagoneer broke down. Guess who was driving it? Give that man a prize! Yes it was me.
Needing a break from painting we decided to take a trip to Vegas our last week there. Tony and Bryce decided to meet us there as well. Steve let us borrow his Montero as our VW has no AC. We get to Vegas and the first thing that happens is the AC on the Montero goes out. Do you know how hot it is in Vegas in July? It is freaking hot. I mean fry an egg on your hood, 5000 spf, want to move to Alaska where I can see Russia from my porch hot. We do need to keep an eye on them after all. This however is not the end of the story. You can probably guess what happened next. On the way to the airport to pick up my friend Tony the Montero broke down on us. Want to take a guess as to who was driving it? The odds are in your favor and we are in Vegas. I would double down.
On our way home to Moscow we had planned a stop at my parents' house in Winston so we could paint it for them. The trip to Winston from Tehachapi was a breeze. Absolutely no problems. We were home free to make it to Moscow. We were quickly lured into a false sense of security. We had everything packed up in our trailer, had all of the lights working, and I even stopped at the gas station to fill up the spare tire for the trailer (professional remember?). About two hours outside of Winston our "luck" started to unravel. The tire on the trailer blew out. It did not just go flat, it blew into a million pieces. So I pulled over on the side of the freeway to check it out. There was no good place to stop. On one side about a foot between the van and the freeway, the same between it and the five foot tall concrete wall. It was ok though, we had the spare that I had just put air in. This should only take a minute, right? Riigghht. I quickly removed the damaged rim and went to get the spare. It was flat. Someone somewhere just thought of me and drew a royal flush.
Anyway (that's for you Erin) I did finally sort it all out and made it home maybe not with peace of mind, but still in one piece. I won't call it luck because I don't believe in it (at least not good luck I am a devoted follower of bad luck).
I am taking a break from vacations for a while. A long while.
