"Well, there's gonna be SOMETHING, that's for sure!" said our dispatcher on Wednesday...
Wednesday was mostly uneventful...unless you count the drunk who tried persistently to flatter me into stitching him up right there in the truck, saying with an approving leer that I was so "pretty" he wouldn't even need pain meds. (Always, always, the compliments come when they're drunk and bleeding. Ooo baby.)
Then came Thursday - a beautiful albeit foggy day in Duluth with the other half of "The A Team" (our other name). Now, Lorrie's car has had a small, slow oil leak for a while, but no worries since we added a quart of oil after arriving, right? We enjoyed a fabulous lunch, misbehaved a little (us?!?) in the tea aisle of the organic grocery store, got lost, explored Fitger's shopping complex, gazed over Lake Superior, picked through a new bead shop, and sampled gourmet chocolate in a classy little cafe.
A simply awesome day...until the oil light started blinking a few miles out of Duluth. Then the "service engine" light popped on, but it's done this before, so we're still not too upset. A little more oil should fix it. By the north Cloquet exit, the car is chugging a little, but still running.
Five more miles and we can go no faster than 55...and we're chugging harder...
No one will answer their phone...
We're in the middle of nowhere...Lorrie drives...Amanda prays...we try to laugh...
We're going 40 miles an hour...the car starts missing when we go uphill or Lorrie lets off the gas.
Amanda knows people in Moose Lake...but maybe there's something in Cloquet or Carlton...
Crap, we already passed Carlton.
"Lord, you gotta get us to Moose Lake...there's nothing in Mahtowa...nothing in Barnum..."
The car dies on the freeway. She throws it into neutral, gets it to turn over again, drops it into drive and the car surges ahead.
We do this 8 times. We're riding the rumble strips and down to 30 mph. We exit the freeway at Barnum but don't dare stop, so we race right through the stop sign...and the next one...and the next one...miraculously avoiding other vehicles...
The car stalls again in front of Sunset Memorial cemetery. We wave at Derek, and my great-grandparents.
We again race through the stop sign at Hwys. 73 & 61 coming into Moose Lake. (How have we made it 30 miles?)
We make it to the Pontiac dealer. By some miracle, they are about five minutes from closing.
We sit around, trying to decide who else might be home. We make some phone calls for rides, money, and advice, as we're still 96 miles from home. The service tech comes out to say that the engine was completely devoid of oil. The undercarriage is coated with oil, and it's even coming out the hubcaps. He says he can't believe we made it here period...namely without starting the car and ourselves on fire! Needless to say we will not be driving it home. It won't be going anywhere, ever again!
So we didn't stall on the freeway or in the middle of nowhere, our cell phones didn't lose their signals, and we didn't blow up. But the engine is shot, and as she is worrying about how to get a new car, a friend calls just to see how she's doing. Lorrie shares the adventure story, and guess what? Her friend is selling a car for $1000.
We sat in a Holiday station for two hours until my wonderful Mom came 46 miles to get us, and drove us 58 miles more to my car in Rush City. We ended the day laughing at ourselves. Prayers work! And the words of our dispatcher rang true - when the two of us are together, it's always an adventure!
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