Lift Up Your Hearts!

After spending a much longer time than planned in Daytona Beach (see Part 1), I began the return drive with a great longing for home, a simple meal, a cup of hot tea, and something indulgent in the way of mental activity.  I did get them all, eventually, though much later than planned.

I was nearly to Sanford when the car suddenly bucked; I can't think of a better word to describe it.  It continued to drive without apparent difficulty, but with a rather strained noise apparently coming from the engine.  At that point I realized that, though it's possible I might have been able to drive home, (1) I could be doing damage to the car that would make repair impossible or at least significantly more expensive, and (2) if I pulled over soon there was room to get well off the road, whereas if I continued further towards the city I might break down on a bridge, or in some other difficult spot—and in rush-hour traffic.  So I pulled off onto the grass and noted that the engine sounded fine as long as I wasn't moving.  Reluctantly, I turned the engine off, not knowing if it would start again, though it didn't matter because I'd already made the decision to call AAA.

While I was still on the phone, a truck with flashing lights pulled up behind me.  Thanks to the AAA lady, I felt free to roll down my window and speak with the Road Ranger. I had no idea Florida provided this service.  The Road Rangers constantly patrol major highways, looking for motorists in trouble, and offer simple help such as changing tires, providing gasoline and water, and making phone calls—all for no charge.  Since AAA was sending a tow truck, I needed none of these services, but gladly accepted his offer to stay with me until the truck came. Since that turned out to be more than an hour, and the day turned from dusk to night, and I was a woman travelling alone, I was especially grateful.  The Ranger was friendly and interesting to chat with.  I knew he was one of that rare species, and Florida native, from the way he pronounced "Deland":  DEE-land, not Duh-LAND.  He could have made a commercial for AAA, saying that in his business he's discovered just how valuable their services are.  They are safer and more dependable, in his experience, than competing services, and just one incident can pay for the year's membership.

I was certainly grateful for our AAA membership, even though my call took over an hour to bear fruit, despite being given priority status due to my position on the side of a major Interstate, and even though my clearly-stated report of my position (the Ranger bore me witness) was lost in translation so the tow truck wasted 15 minutes by looking for me in the wrong place.  I had expected to have the car taken to our mechanic, then to get home somehow; at least the late hour meant a better choice of friends to call for assistance.  Insead, the AAA person suggested what she called a "continuous tow," which meant having the car (and me) taken home, then calling AAA again in the morning and having the car taken to the mechanic then.  A much better idea, especially since it only counts as one service call.

So I arrived home, albeit several hours later than planned.  There's nothing to complain about, really:  I'm thankful that I was able to control the car and drive it to a safe place; for having a fully charged cell phone (I'd thought in the morning that charging it would be unnecessary, but decided to do it anyway, "just in case"); for our AAA membership; and for the prompt and friendly Road Ranger.  And one more thing:  Remember the desire, mentioned above, for something indulgent in the way of mental activity?  The day's mail brought the latest World of Puzzles magazine....

Despite having started the day at 4:45, it was well after 11 p.m. before I made it to bed, partly because of my puzzle indulgence, and partly because there were a few things that just had to be done, no matter how exhausted I felt. 

This morning, as planned, AAA took the car to Blue Book.  That worked smoothly, but Jim's call soon confirmed my fears.  Superficially things looked fine, but a test drive revealed the bad news:  Our darling Geo Prizm had transmission failure, repair cost estimate of $1200-$1500, more if the differential is also involved. "If you can't afford to buy a new car, sure, we'll fix it—but I recommend against it.  A $400 repair every six months or a year is cheap rent, but when you get a single repair that's worth more than the value of the car...."  Why did this happen?  "Bad luck and old age."  He's only seen the problem once before, on another Toyota from the late 80s or early 90s.

I firmly believe in the adage, "Love people, use things."  The car was 16 years old (ours for 10 of those), with high mileage (well over 100,000 miles; I'll look up the number when I go tomorrow to clean it out), and has owed us nothing for quite a while.  It seems particularly petty to mourn its loss when still in mouring for the loss of a person.  Nonetheless, I did love that little car.  It was small, handy, nice to drive, and has many memories associated with it—and I tend to be a sentimental person.  Not to mention the fact that I hate car shopping!  And all the time and decisions and phone calls and paperwork associated with it. 

R.I.P., little car.  You carried us well through many years and states. 

It's just as well Heather and Jon's next automotive need will be for a van, since we managed to finish this one off before passing it on.  The air conditioning still works, too!