You’ll need to prepare a few things before utilizing this novel way to improve your gas mileage. It helps to travel with a senior citizen who has a CAA or AAA membership. Be sure that the membership is Premier, not just any run-of-the-mill, “we’ll boost your dead battery” membership, but the full-deal: “we’ll put you up in a Holiday Inn until your car is fixed” membership. Otherwise you’ll trade gas savings for restaurant and hotel costs (not to mention towing fees).
I suggest you own and drive a mystery vehicle, one whose history and service record is missing in action. Like me, you’ll need to trade in a Toyota or Honda because it’s highly unlikely you’ll be able to make use of this tip with such a reliable piece of machinery. To add extra excitement to the experience, travel on backroads and avoid the obvious routes through major centers. This will allow you to get to know people you’d otherwise never meet. I suggest looking for oversized trucks with gun racks and “W” or “NRA” bumper-stickers.
So, Momma and I were making excellent time from Cape Cod through Western MA and into Upstate NY. I was feeling kinda smug because I take pleasure (and lame ego-strength) from my ability to make such good time from point A to point B; it’s about bragging rights not comfort – if you want to make good time, don’t consume fluids and you won’t have to stop.
Final American city before crossing back into Canada (aka: Land of overly-polite Liberals who register their firearms and say “sorry”) “June” dies. By the way, I name my vehicles because I believe it fosters contact and therefore loyalty, not to mention it allows me to converse even without a passenger. Mom and I are stunned as we roll into a vacant dirt parking area with no vehicular power. Long story shorter, Mom pulls out her CAA membership card (Premier status) and I pull out my cellphone. Within 30 minutes a big truck comes and we’re relocated with June to a very sketchy looking repair shop on the outskirts of town.
I look around at the motley looking crew who are smoking and gazing under June’s hood; poking at the battery, the alternator, and feeling for the harness that connects the two under the engine. Except for the one woman present on the scene, there isn’t a full set of teeth between them. The woman, by the way, is in charge, and she is wonderful. Thank you to Theresa of Miller’s Auto in Watertown, NY. She’s a goddess and an angel. In fact, the whole crew is incredible although a little confused by imports. I heard “Fuckin’ Volkswagen” enough to understand their opinion on these sporty little contraptions. Four hours later I have a new battery, an old alternator, and a duct-tape-like piece of advice: “Go ahead and drive the rest of the way home, just don’t use your cooling system, your windows, your lights, or your radio. Oh and maybe don’t shut her off. You should be fine. Then get yourself another alternator.”
Trepidatiously, at 6pm we drive north out of Watertown towards the Canadian border. I miraculously reach my Peterborough VW repairman by phone (thank you Randy of Schnell’s Auto) and tell him the story. Randy says in no uncertain terms that I am to get my ass over the bridge and border crossing and stop and call CAA for a tow. And so, for the 2nd time in 6 hours June is loaded up onto a flatbed truck and Mom and I are stuffed into the front of a semi-styled tow truck with a driver who spends the next 3 ½ hours reminding me why I’m single. The 250km commute from Ganonoque to Peterborough lasts until near midnight but the driver is kind enough to not only drop June off at Schnell’s but he takes me and Momma to her home (thank you Len of Jack's Towing). In my delirium I wonder briefly if the Universe is trying to tell me that I am supposed to become a tow truck driver and move to Upstate New York.
In the end, while the trip from Cape Cod to Peterborough took 17 hours, I increased my mileage from 35 to 47mpg! And, even more valuable, I felt so cared for by 'strangers' along the way; a helpful reminder in the midst of darkness and confusion.
I suggest you own and drive a mystery vehicle, one whose history and service record is missing in action. Like me, you’ll need to trade in a Toyota or Honda because it’s highly unlikely you’ll be able to make use of this tip with such a reliable piece of machinery. To add extra excitement to the experience, travel on backroads and avoid the obvious routes through major centers. This will allow you to get to know people you’d otherwise never meet. I suggest looking for oversized trucks with gun racks and “W” or “NRA” bumper-stickers.
So, Momma and I were making excellent time from Cape Cod through Western MA and into Upstate NY. I was feeling kinda smug because I take pleasure (and lame ego-strength) from my ability to make such good time from point A to point B; it’s about bragging rights not comfort – if you want to make good time, don’t consume fluids and you won’t have to stop.
Final American city before crossing back into Canada (aka: Land of overly-polite Liberals who register their firearms and say “sorry”) “June” dies. By the way, I name my vehicles because I believe it fosters contact and therefore loyalty, not to mention it allows me to converse even without a passenger. Mom and I are stunned as we roll into a vacant dirt parking area with no vehicular power. Long story shorter, Mom pulls out her CAA membership card (Premier status) and I pull out my cellphone. Within 30 minutes a big truck comes and we’re relocated with June to a very sketchy looking repair shop on the outskirts of town.
I look around at the motley looking crew who are smoking and gazing under June’s hood; poking at the battery, the alternator, and feeling for the harness that connects the two under the engine. Except for the one woman present on the scene, there isn’t a full set of teeth between them. The woman, by the way, is in charge, and she is wonderful. Thank you to Theresa of Miller’s Auto in Watertown, NY. She’s a goddess and an angel. In fact, the whole crew is incredible although a little confused by imports. I heard “Fuckin’ Volkswagen” enough to understand their opinion on these sporty little contraptions. Four hours later I have a new battery, an old alternator, and a duct-tape-like piece of advice: “Go ahead and drive the rest of the way home, just don’t use your cooling system, your windows, your lights, or your radio. Oh and maybe don’t shut her off. You should be fine. Then get yourself another alternator.”
Trepidatiously, at 6pm we drive north out of Watertown towards the Canadian border. I miraculously reach my Peterborough VW repairman by phone (thank you Randy of Schnell’s Auto) and tell him the story. Randy says in no uncertain terms that I am to get my ass over the bridge and border crossing and stop and call CAA for a tow. And so, for the 2nd time in 6 hours June is loaded up onto a flatbed truck and Mom and I are stuffed into the front of a semi-styled tow truck with a driver who spends the next 3 ½ hours reminding me why I’m single. The 250km commute from Ganonoque to Peterborough lasts until near midnight but the driver is kind enough to not only drop June off at Schnell’s but he takes me and Momma to her home (thank you Len of Jack's Towing). In my delirium I wonder briefly if the Universe is trying to tell me that I am supposed to become a tow truck driver and move to Upstate New York.
In the end, while the trip from Cape Cod to Peterborough took 17 hours, I increased my mileage from 35 to 47mpg! And, even more valuable, I felt so cared for by 'strangers' along the way; a helpful reminder in the midst of darkness and confusion.
Mart-
ReplyDeleteFirstly, I love and miss you. Reading your updates give me a entirely new insight into the workings of Martha McClure, and I love what I see.
I chuckle at the "fuckin Volkswagen" incident. I hope June is at a good doctor.
I met a traveler the other night, as a bear crossed our paths. We stopped our bikes and confirmed that, yes indeed, it was a bear and said hello. Pieter from the Czech republic was visiting the US on bike, NY to CA. He inquired about camping and ended up sleeping in our backyard before traveling on. His spirit and our evening together reminded me of the spirit of journey and adventure you are riding.
Safe journeys and may you continue to open to all of yourself.
Trust.
Joshua