We headed out a day earlier than we initially planned for Spring Break. We left Friday afternoon (March 21) around 1:30 (v Saturday morning). Bill switched driving duties over to me about 2.5 hours into the trip, then snuggled down for a nice little nap. Within a mere 30 minutes, while driving up a gentle incline, I noticed that all of the cars and trucks I had previously passed were speeding by. I watched the speedometer slowly go down even though my foot was pressed to the floor.
I woke Bill up.
"Something's wrong with the car."
I could feel that I was powerless to accelerate (I hate that!), and I pulled off the side of the road somewhere in between Laramie and Rawlins. Mile marker 269(ish).
We tried several times to get the car to go. Nope. It would not shift into gear.
It was around 4:30 (on a Friday afternoon, might I remind you), and we had spotty cell coverage. Bill's first course of action was to check with our insurance company. He walked up the road a bit to get phone reception. Meanwhile, the girls and I hung out in our overstuffed vehicle and watched/listened to Frozen (lucky for us, the car battery was just dandy).
A frozen (no pun intended) Bill came back to the car and we discussed options and made more calls.
Shi and Chey (with a little Mar thrown in) performed for us.
Our towing coverage was only good for 15 miles.
(WHAT?? That is the best we have?? When my your husband is my your insurance agent, I you might get slightly upset by this news.)
No repair shops were open.
No rental car companies were open.
As we sat, wondering what we should do next, a WHP officer stopped (on his way to assist another officer, he informed us, so only briefly). "Do you need a tow truck?"
"Yep."
He told us he would call one for us. Bill asked if we were closer to Laramie or Rawlins. I did NOT want to backtrack to Laramie, knowing our ultimate destination was in the westward Rawlins direction.
"Laramie," was the reply.
Dang.
So we sat and waited, making a few more phone calls, not knowing who was coming to tow us or when.
Finally we spotted a tow truck on the other side of the freeway. Maybe that was ours, we wondered.
It was. Hallelujah.
We squished into the tow truck, and headed west (thankfully!). Initially we thought we might get the tow to Rawlins, but the driver, knowing that we were trying to save our dough, suggested the first little town up the road. Elk Mountain. Population 198.
He said there was a good cafe there where we could get dinner while we waited to be rescued.
Sold.
A note about our rescue and the angel of a father-in-law I have:
He (my FIL) had called around to some UHAUL places to see if he could find a trailer to pull us, only to discover that their trailers were not quite big enough for my our not-so-favorite Pacifica. My tuned-in MIL had a prompting to call a friend from their ward to see if he had something that would work. He did. The plan was for my FIL to pick up the trailer, drive to Elk Mountain (5.5 hours away), load us up, then make the drive back home to SLC (with Bill as a back-up driver). All of this was a mere day or two after both my MIL and FIL drove to Rigby, ID to help my BIL and his family pack up their home and move to St. George, UT. They had just gotten home from that long journey.
That man's a Saint, flat out.
We knew it would be awhile before he could get to us, so we hung out here:
We showed up around 7pm, noticing that the posted closing time was... 7pm.
The mother/daughter team that runs the place were welcoming and told us to stay as long as we would like ("You can sleep here, if you need to..."). I was a little wary of the food. This was a very, VERY old building, with padlock-protected restrooms accessible only from outside, and lots and LOTS of cats running around (and doing other frisky things) out back by the old sheds and buildings that surrounded the place. A great big dog lounged in the large main room of the cafe.
Sketchy, I thought to myself, but it was definitely an ADVENTURE, so I was going to make the best of it.
We ordered our food...
... and I was MORE than pleasantly surprised at the deliciousness of it once it arrived.
The burgers, in my humble opinion, rivaled the best: Five Guys, Smashburger, In-N-Out...
The fries were amazing (hand cut from real potatoes), and the onions rings were seriously the best I believe I have ever {EVER} had.
I would highly recommend the slight detour from I-80 if you are ever in the area. They are closed Saturdays and Sundays, though, and only accept cash (thank goodness Cheyenne had some with her, picking up the tab for all of us).
We want to go back someday.
They were such nice people.
Around 9:30 we headed out to our car (kindly left by the tow truck - and only 13 miles from the point of breakdown) to watch a movie and try to sleep until Grandpa showed up.
When he arrived, I couldn't help taking a quick picture of the clock:
It took nearly an hour with everyone's help to load 'er up,
then we were off.
Bill chatted with his dad for the first three+ hours, then I picked up the last few.
We arrived at Bill's parent's home around eight Saturday morning.
When the repair shops opened at 9am, more calls were made and Bill and his weary-from-well-doing father dropped it off. The transmission was shot, and a new one would be in order.
Our Spring Break Adventure had started out adventurous. AND it could only get better.
What more could I ask.
Up next: Britt's Baby Shower (glad we made it there in time!)
Britt, circa 1991
