Before we left on this trip, our van had problems requiring some transmission work. Heading down the road, the van would buck every time it shifted out of a low gear. I sure hope this transmission gets us home!
As we crossed through Florida, I counted all of the construction cranes I could see. Cranes mean economic activity. And economic activity means jobs. We even saw a construction helicopter that lifted large loads and flew down the highway a few miles and dropped if off.
When we approached Jacksonville, a tractor trailer in front of us had a tire disintegrate. Billions of tiny tire chunks exploded in front if us as the traffic was sprayed with debris. A huge chuck flew into the air and headed for our windshield. I instinctively ducked as the chuck barely missed us and skid across the top of the van. At that moment I knew it was do or die. I crammed the gas to the floor and pulled into the next lane while trying to dodge the spraying debris. If I had stayed behind the truck - even if I slowed down, the van would have been smashed by debris flying at 80mph. But if I could get in front of the tire I would save the day. Successfully, I flew past the tractor trailer! And an initial assessment seemed to determine there was no damage to the van, so, we pushed on.
Florida did not want us to leave. As we approached the border, a massive storm rose attempting to block our exit. The journey through Georgia was at 40mph and we were blinded by pouring rain most of the way. Thunder roared all around us like cannon fire going off every five seconds with enough force to shake the van. We hydroplanned several times, loosing control of the van momentarily. The rain increased until we were completely blinded and forced to take an exit.
We pulled under the awning of a gas station in South Carolina to get relief from the rain. When I turned the van off we noticed steam coming from under the hood and the smell of burning rubber. Oh no! Did debris from that truck tire get lodged into the radiator?
I lifted the hood and could see no damage. I checked the oil and steering fluid, looked at the radiator the best I could, looked over the engine for anything odd (which, due to my lack of mechanical skills, everything looked odd) and looked under the van for a puddle of coolant. I found nothing. In fact, the temperature gauge on the van was fine! My theory was that rain got on the engine and the water was evaporating. Linda didn't buy it because that didn't explain the burning rubber smell.
The rain let up, the van had cooled down, and we decided to head back on the road and take our chances. I kept a careful eye on the temperature gauge with the agreement to pull off at the first sign of trouble.
I had planned our entire vacation which included making all the hotel reservations. If you have read about our trip to Florida you will know that my choices of hotel was a disaster. Linda fired me from ever making any hotel reservations again. However, Linda learned that I received such an outstanding price at the Charleston Days Inn because I accidentally accepted a non-refundable rate. No matter how much she begged, Days Inn would not cancel the reservation. So, Linda was very upset that we were stuck with this reservation.
We made it to Charleston and Linda warned me that this hotel had better be OK. I assured her everything would be fine. We pulled up to the lobby to check in. When I opened the van door, I swung it open too fast and the door smashed into a wall. The van is Linda's baby and she immediately freaked out. Forget being sprayed by tire debris, a smoking radiator, or a jumping transmission - she was mad about the new scratches I added to her door! Well, that wasn't a good start for this hotel.
When we got into the room, Linda broke our her CSI kit to investigate the room. Somehow (I was very surprised because from the look of the room, I was sure of a failure) the room passed inspection!
We jogged through the rain back to the van to unload it. Linda opened the back van door. The contents in the back of the van had shifted and when she opened the door, all the luggage poured out onto the wet parking lot and into the mud puddles. She started screaming for help. I ran to the back of the van, but my back is shot, there was little I could do but just stand there in the rain. We dragged the bags to the hotel room and used our beach towels to dry everything off. We didn't have to worry about the contents of the bags because all our belongings are vacuum sealed in space bags.
The hotel room is nice and I am impressed with my selection. It is more of a motel, where all the room doors exit outside. The bathroom is small: if I try to stand to pee I crack my head of the shower curtain rod. The room is non smoking, but the walls are so thin that the smoke from neighboring rooms just comes right in. And the group of guys standing outside our door drinking are having a really entertaining conversation about welding and raising goats. They are really excited too because they are dropping the F word every third word, which is providing the boys an unnecessary education. The walls are so thin it sounds like they are standing right next to my bed.
I am looking forward to a great nights sleep (if these guys outside our door ever get tired of swapping goat stories) so we can see the USS Yorktown in the morning!
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