When I purchased Guinevere, my white? yellow? '89 Honda Civic back in February, my housemate Tyler liked to make fun of it, or rather he would declare his skepticism of her reliability and make comments about not even wanting to go to South Bend in her. I was chuckling at his lack of faith as I was happily chugging up and down the mountains of West Virginia. Now, in North Carolina (my 5th stop in my journey) I'm still in high spirits, though I am a day behind my original schedule, and I feel a bit more humbled with regards to Tyler's opinions of my car. Let me tell you now the unabriged (and completely true) tale of my recently troubled relationship with Gwen. It all begins last Saturday, as Christy, Kyle and I were heading to the grocery store to buy some ingredients for a meal...
Since I bought Guinevere, she has often had a bit of trouble starting after sitting for a few days. After running for a bit, she seems to do okay, though, so I just figured her battery was on its last legs. On Saturday, my car had been sitting for a day and a half, and though it started, it required a bit of cranking first. I decided not to turn it off as I waited for Kyle and Christy to come down from the apartment. We make it to the store no problem, but on the way the radio flickers on and off a few times. Not much current? Kinda scary. We do our shopping, load up the car and get ready to head for home. Nothing. The battery is stone cold dead. We begin asking all of the people we see in the parking lot for a jump. No luck. Are there cables for sale in the grocery store? Nope. Finally, I find a man in his parked car. Do you have jumper cables? Yeah, man I do. Let me tell you, for you my friend I will do anything to help my friend. 10 minutes later and the car is running and we've had a nice little conversation with our new, slightly inebriated, north African friend, and we all wish each other the best.
On the way back to the apartment, idling at a light, Gwen suddenly dies. Uh oh. I turn the key. Nothing. [expletive] The light is still red. Do we push? We are off major roads (thank goodness) and it's mostly downhill to the apartment... What about pop-starts? Could we try that. By the time the light turns green, Kyle is behind the car, pushing, we head down the hill, I let out the clutch, it revs... and dies. Several more attempts, all to no avail. Guinevere is not starting again. We push her into a parking lot (next to an ominous "non-church vehicles will be towed" sign), and walk away for now. The plan: to keep on with the supper plans, borrowing Christy's aunt & uncle's car and trying to jump my car while Christy begins the supper-making. We begin the short walk from the dead car to the apartment. The thought hits me - no keys. Sure enough, they are in the ignition of my locked car. I guess I'll bring a coathanger too.
An hour or so later and I'm having little luck with the coathanger. Kyle looks on as I fumble and get nowhere. In desparation, we call Christy who gets us campus police's number. A receptionist (who sounds stoned) answers - sure we can dispatch someone to help get it open. (Yes!) As Kyle goes to figure out just what parking lot we are in ("No. Latter Day Saints. No. Not Jewish...") I accidentally break part of the window guard, making it much easier to lift the lock. Before he is finished talking, I'm in. Uh, thanks but we've got it. We jump the car, I rev it, I turn on the lights, it dies. We jump the car, I rev it, I don't turn on the lights, I back it up, I pull up to the end of the drive, it dies. Something is very wrong. I push my car, to the amusement of onlookers, back to the visitor parking lot. We eat a late supper (it's 11pm 'til we eat) and brainstorm. Is it a bad battery? Bad alternator? We call Kyle's dad, and I post a question on a mechanic forum.
Sunday afternoon. We drive my battery to Autozone in the borrowed car. They charge it and say it's still good. Must be the alternator. The car forum guys say if I have a good battery I can probably drive a few miles even with a bad alternator. I shop online for a mechanic. Not many places open, and none that can take me today. I make a list of places to call on Monday.
Monday. I wake up early, call the first place on my list - C & D Auto - 2 miles away. I install the charged battery, get my book, start up Guinevere and pray the whole 2 miles. After a few wrong turns I make it to the shop. The get it in right away. Yep, we'll need to replace the alternator and we recommend the battery too. I sit and read and get hungry for about 4 hours. The damage is ~$400. Ouch. I pack up at Kyle & Christy's and make a beeline for the nearest Indian restaurant, where I eat a very satisfying meal. On the road again!
One mile onto the beltway and my speedometer stops working. So does my odometer. The turn engine light comes on. Fortuneately I took the card of the shop and I still remember how to get there. Yes they can look at it again. In only 20 minutes and for only $25 this time, I get a loose wire diagnosed and fixed. It was an expensive loose wire, but no harm done. Phew. By now Kimberly is probably getting sick of me calling to say I'm coming! No I'm not! Yes I am! No I'm not!... I ask the best way to the interstate. A customer overhears and interjects to give me directions. They sound confusing. He says he's a limo driver in the area, and this way will help me miss the traffic. I get out a pen and paper.
The middle eastern limo driver was dead on, though my last turn was a bit tricky. I turn around in a gas station, a bit flustered, and as I merge into my turn lane I merge into a car... [expletive] The driver gestures behind me - pull over over there. We turn onto a side street and get out to survey the damage. Not much. Just a loose bumper and light. I really want to be on my way. I really don't want to have this happen. I don't want to be there. ... There's not much damage (and my insurance won't do much to cover it anyway). Can I just give you some cash to help cover it? He thinks it over. We settle on $100 cash (thank goodness I carry traveling cash, although that pretty much spends it!), and I give him my phone number in case it doesn't end up being enough. I feel a little bit shady making this transaction, but I figure it's win win. Easier for all parties and doesn't make my premium go up... (Mom, you're not supposed to read this paragraph.) I do at least think to get a signed receipt to cover my butt. He drives away. I drive away, terrified of all cars - a.k.a. death machines - and I just want to be in Charlottesville. No more driving for me. The car lists to the left. [expletive] I pull onto a different side street. Sure enough, it's a flat. I call my friends at C & D. They are open for another 50 minutes (it's after 5pm by now). I'll be right over.
By now I'm friends with the guy behind the counter (Marcus). I swear, I'm trying to get out of this city. He replies, "Well it's good it's just a small hole or you'da been shit outa luck. We don't have no tires here. And don't you go breakin' down again because we're closin'!" I promise not too, and he wishes me the best. The bosses are gone, so my only payment is $10 cash... more of a tip that goes into the pocket of the guy who patched my tire. I'm cool with that. It was Marcus' idea anyway. Kimberly, I'm coming for real this time!
I accidentally used the directions from limo man to write my phone number on for car accident guy. My memory guides me back to the highway. To say that I was on edge would be understatement. I was the epitome of paranoia. But now I could just drive. Surely nothing else could go wrong. In 2 1/2 hours I'd be drinking tea with Kimberly. Congested traffic ahead. I guess a car accident pushing traffic into one lane was not part of limo man's speedy directions. As I inch along, I notice what seems like too much steam coming from the anterior end of my car. Is it exhaust from the car in front? The car in front pulls away. Still steaming. I look at the temperature gauge. [expletive] It's beyond the hottest temperature it can register. And I'm stuck in traffic. I don't know much about cars, but I know this is not good. 10 minutes later I finally get to a side road. Neighborhood doesn't look too bad, but it's getting dark and this is ceasing to be an adventure... more the worst day of my life...
What to do. I open the hood and steam billows out. I hear my coolant reservoir boiling... I get out my laptop, and look at the repair guide for my car in pdf form. Not much help. I turn the car on again. The temperature is more reasonable. I rev the engine and watch it climb right up again. And off I turn it again. I turn to the ultimate backup plan. I call mom. She puts Tim on the line. He tells me how to wait, let it cool down, check the fluid, add more water (it's okay in the summer), check for leaks and analyze from there. I might be able to inch it to a shop tomorrow if it's a slow leak, but if it's major I might have to get it towed. [expletive] A low battery warning prompts me to end the call prematurely. I call Kim. I'll be even later. She begins to tell me she is very sorry, but the phone dies. And I don't have a car charger. I wait. In the meantime, I select a house. I choose the one with the BMW in front. A nice African American woman opens the door. I ask for some water. She more than happily obliges and comes out with a gallon jug of water. She wishes me well, and tells me if I have to leave it over night I should push it in front of her drive so nobody calls the police (with the stress on "Po", not "lice"). I thank her heartily and she wishes me luck. I check the reservoir - very low - and add some water. It doesn't take that much and I'm hopeful. I turn the car on and rev it. The temperature stabilizes halfway between C and H. So it's driveable? I debate trying to drive it back to Kyle & Christy's to get it looked at the next day or trying to make it to Charlottesville yet. I don't really want to mess with a tow truck if at all possible. I decide I should try driving it a few miles at least. It's about 15 miles to Christy and Kyle's. I hesitate, but head in the opposite direction. Charlottesville or bust! 20 miles later and I pull into a gas station. Still cool enough and the coolant level hasn't changed. A guy in the service station says as long as it's not overheating I should be okay. Well then. By 11pm I'm drinking tea with Kim. Her housemate has made chocolate cookies. Good end to a bad day. (By this morning, some coolant had disappeared, but I decided to just add more, keep monitoring it and keep moving. Hopefully that decision won't come back to bite me halfway to Tennessee...)
Epilogue:
My windshield wiper fluid pump has never worked. I guess that's just one other cute little quirk that makes Guinevere so endearing. Also, the wipers don't have an intermittant setting. Fortunately, pushing the lever down (what should make cleaner come out, according to the diagram on the lever) also makes the wipers move. So I have my own little manual intermittant setting. I was reflecting on how this "setting" will be less useful once I get my pump replaced as I drove the last hour of my trip to Chapel Hill. But shouldn't there be a way to just get the wipers to move without the fluid? I tried pulling the lever toward myself. Wiper fluid shot out. Man I'm dumb. I laughed out loud for a while.
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