Dear God, where do I start? After racking up 509 miles in 8 hours, I was feeling pretty cocky about the time we were making. After the excellent dinner the night before, I was ready to go, go, go. So Murphy made himself comfortable in the Jeep. Off we go.
Five hundred and thirty miles and ten and a half hours later I pull into the Comfort Inn in Oklahoma City. Between lashing rainstorms outside St Louie that held the 18-wheelers to 45 mph, Tusla being one-lane-only-under-construction-use-side-streets-as interstates-crazy-drivers-please-congregate-around-the-out-of-state-Jeep-and-vent-your-angst, and other construction restricting traffic to one lane over 30% of the non-Tulsa interstate I was pretty thoroughly toasted when we arrived.
But in order to prevent the Lovely and Talented Wife from losing her naturally sunny disposition, it was necessary to provide for her caloric uptake. Since one of her very favorite chains had a franchise nearby, we went and ate. We then slept soundly until this morning. Unfortunately, Murphy was ready for some overtime...
After loading early, we set off. Well, not exactly. The shift lever refused to leave Park and enter Reverse. No go. I figured it was the brake lock-out malfunctioning, but all the fuses looked normal. The L&T wanted to call for AAA roadside service. But first I decided to call Joe at the service center back in Cleveland that has had our business for over 20 years.
I owe Joe a six-pack of his favorite loudmouth soup. He told me about the "Manual Emergency Lock-out Over-ride Procedure" and *poof*! we were on the road.
About 320 miles later the "Malfunction Indicator Light" came on. No big deal, the vehicle manual says, just get it to your dealer -unless it's blinking. In which case getting to your dealer now may be too late. But it wasn't blinking. So no big deal.
About 50 miles later, either the Jeep or our Tom-Tom emits 4 single beeps spaced over 15 or 20 minutes. No changes on the dashboard, so we are mystified but roll on.
Until about 70 miles (according to "Bitchin' Betty", the L&T's Tom-Tom) from our destination. Suddenly the Jeep bucks twice (at 80+ mph) and dies. Just quits running.
We coast to a stop.
The cell-phone-that-was-the-son's-8-years-ago comes out of the Boss' purse and the hand-to-phone combat with AAA is on. After giving our membership number six times and being transferred to 4 different folks, they admit the existance of Cline's Corner (the nearest town) and the fact that they will have to send a wrecker. (All in only half an hour.) Word is the wrecker will be there in about an hour. The bluebird of happiness is extinct and the water level in the slough of despair is rising.
Ten minutes later, a big-assed flatbed wrecker slides to a stop in front of the Jeep - Pete and Brandy have arrived! It arrived because the L&T said a prayer to her special person and voila-Little John's Towing made its appearance. Because L&T's long time spouse was fit to be tied, and ticked off to beat the band. If we had had a ball bat-that Jeep would be no more.
Soooo, we tell Pete our story and we were on our way to Santa Fe in a honkin' big tow truck. Now you know we "squoze" four of us in that truck and hadda make nice all the way there- the L&T took charge and worked the room. She knew everything about them except their birthdays and belt sizes before she finished. (All in a day's work for the darlin'.) About an hour anna half we're at the Santa Fe Jeep dealer. Ten minutes after the service department was due to close.
We sang our tale of woe and the "service advisor" deigned to let us leave it there, but warned us that they were swamped and wouldn't get to it soon. When the L&T challenge by saying "I hope you don't mean weeks", he allowed as Wednesday was a good bet. We then called my sister and her husband (thry're staying at the same place and had beaten us there) to come pick us up. While emptying the Jeep, we noticed a thinnish, sticky, cherry-red fluid on the floor of the cargo compartment and on some of the luggage. Nothing leaked and we don't know what it is or where it came from. It LOOKS like ATF. But how? I guess we'll find out... You'll know when I know.
The adventure continues....
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3 comments:
Looks like ATF...
Smells like ATF?
Or is your smeller, like mine, almost fried?
...Then use L&T's nose!
Standing by for further.
LOL his smeller is doneski. From an email from mom, the mystery "ATF" was the dreaded Robitussin.... The saga continues. BTW, wish I coulda been there when they caught up with ya greybeard!
Anytime you're in the neighborhood, Bear. Mi casa es su casa.
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