Day 10: Hanging in the Balance

Waking to the sound of rushing water, I remembered that last night I heard a waterfall from somewhere below where I'd parked on the side of Grand Mesa. I wanted to get a jump on the day while it was cool because I knew that by noon the temperature would be around 98 degrees in Junction. I wanted to have my shopping done and be in the road before then. Despite not having AC in the RV, I knew driving with windows down would be preferable to being on a hot parking lot in the city. Still...Buena and I went to find the source of the water noises.

We took a small path down the hill, and that path lead to what looked like an ATV trail. We followed it until we came to a swift moving stream that tumbled over rocks as it raced down the mesa.

Back at the top of the hill, I tied Buena to the side of the rig while I checked the fluid levels in the engine. Despite the mountains, I didn't need to add anything. The radiator and reservoir were both full, and the oil was still in between full and empty. I'd check the oil again later and add more if needed.

The first stop was to see Lyla at McLean's orchards to pick up some Palisade peaches. After that, Big Lots, Walmart, Chick-fil-a, the grocery store, and gas.

The tank was running closer to empty than I'd like. In fact, it was at the lowest it's been since getting the new fuel pump and having my gas guage work. After spending $105, I was ready to hit the road.

I had to close all the RV windows, which made the 98-degrees feel hotter, but we'd soon have road wind blowing through the cabin. Pulling onto 50, I was Utah bound!

Only...it wasn't to be. I stalled out one, two, three times. The last stall out left me stuck between the lines on 50, west of Junction, and with cars whizzing past and sometimes swerving into my lane.

Hot and sweaty, I cried. I rubbed my eyes like a child, grateful I hadn't worn mascara today; otherwise, I would have raccoon eyes.

I called family. I called AAA. I found out I'd exhausted all my free tows when the fuel pump went out in Havasu.

After the postal truck and the pickup truck swerved to miss hitting me, I put the car in neutral and called 911. Having the Godspeed in neutral would help alleviate any frontal or rear collision because the RV would roll with the impact, rather than taking it full on. I needed police assistance. This was a dangerous place to be.

The dispatch office said help was on the way.

Suddenly, I remembered my boss's dad and stwp mom live in Junction. I texted my boss, telling her of my breakdown. Kendall quickly put me in contact with Linda.

The police arrived. They pushed me...physically pushed me...two officers in 98-degree heat with enough muscle and fortitude to push the 11,000 pound RV one-tenth of a mile. It made me cry. And, crying, I thanked them for their service, not just pushing the RV...all of it. The police force is those to help those in need.

God bless those men!

And God bless Linda, Pete, and George who showed up to see what could be done with the RV, now that it was safely on a side street.

It could be many things:

-rotor

-plugs and wires

-choke

-timing

-water pump

...or the good ol' ignition control module, the part that caused me so much grief that first year.

Somehow, this was different. With the ICM down, nothing would happen. This time, the engine would turn over but not catch.

The men got it started. George said the choke was closed. I let it run but turned it off when instructed. As the men put the doghouse back over the carburetor, George quipped, "I hope it doesn't do like most Fords and not start once we put this thing on."

With the bolts securely fastened, I turned the key.

Rrrrrrrrrr....putter putter. Stop.

"Try it again," said George.

Same thing.

Linda and I took a walk while the men looked the engine over again. I usually didn't let anyone putter with my engine if I wasn't present, but I didn't care. I was so...done with it all. I'd taken this trip to...partly...see if I wanted to stay in a full-time working position at the hotel or get back on the road in November to pursue my free-spirited gypsy life. Yes, a daily shower and electricity were benefits of the hotel job, but feeling road wind and talking to people you'll never see again is a whole different elevation. The only thing...I'd forgotten about the uncertainty and reliance on mechanics. (Mechanics...that's a whole chapter in my book, both the engines and the men who make them run.)

The men got it started again, but this time, we decided to move th RV as far away from the corner as possible before it stalled. George parked it at an angle and offered to bring his truck back and straighten it out. I insisted he didn't.

After that, Pete and Linda loaded us into their pickup truck, and we went to un restaurante Mexicano and had margaritas and dinner.

Later, after the restaurant had closed, they brought me back to the RV offering again to help me move it.

No, no, I insisted. Tomorrow is another day.

Back at the RV, I considered the irony...sweet poetic irony...of being caught between BV and Escalante, between where I'd hoped to make my home and the place where I'd found home.

I just wanted to be back in Escalante.