Our car blew up.
A couple of years ago, we were on one of our grueling day long stock-up excursions because we live across the wasteland in a place that only exists because gambling is legal in Nevada and illegal in Utah. Every month or two, we have to go in to the city to pick up things that you can't buy out here. That list includes everything except groceries. You can buy groceries here. It costs more because they have you by the short and curlies but at least you can eat.
It was about 6pm and we were done for the day. We were going to get something to eat and then get home. It looked like we might actually be home before midnight. That would be nice since we usually had to get up at 5 or 6am to start these trips and we usually came dragging in at midnight. It was hot and had already been a long day and we were thinking happy thoughts about being home kind of early.
That's when the car blew up.
Blew up might be too strong of a word. It was more like those airplane movies where the plane suddenly decompresses. All kinds of warning lights came on, dials started spinning, there was the sound of rushing air, and people were screaming in panic.
I pulled off the freeway and into the closest mechanic. They looked the thing over and said that it could be fixed. The price they quoted was just about more than the car was worth and they said there could be other things wrong but they wouldn't know until they fixed the main problem. The engine had gotten very hot and that could have caused more damage.
We decided to scrap the car and buy a new one. My dad had bought several cars in the area so I called him and asked him where he went. He told me to go to Saturn of Riverdale and talk to Randall. He said that Randall would take care of us. It was only about 5 miles away from where we were so we loaded up and limped the car up the road.
Randall was working and we explained what had happened. We told him we were going to buy a new car and that my dad recommended him and this dealer. He showed us what he had on the lot. Tia wanted a mini van but there weren't any used ones on the lot. We test drove a couple of cars because I wasn't sold on the idea of mini van. Randall called around and found a mini van in Salt Lake. We came back from a test drive and shared the negative results. Randall said that he could get a mini van up here but it would take a while.
So much for getting home early.
We went to dinner and came back and the van still wasn't there. We waited around. The sun went down which made the world cooler but made us realize that it was getting late. We were all tired, including Trey. He didn't like to sleep in the car because he hated being in a car seat when he got tired. It wouldn't allow him to get into a comfortable sleeping position.
"Frrrreeeeeeedommmmmm!" he would screech in high pitch baby wails for miles and miles.
The first time you cross the Salt Flats, it's intriguing. After that, it just becomes monotonous and long. I call it the wasteland because there is nothing there.
There are only a few things that can make it a worse drive. Being extremely tired is one. Having a screaming baby in the back seat is another. If you want to top it off, drink a gallon of water before you leave.
The van finally showed up. We took it for a very short test drive and came back and said we would take it. Tia liked it. I was more fine with it than I had suspected and we were at the point where we just wanted to go home. It was 10pm and we hadn't even started the paperwork on the van. We were never going to get home.
Randall came to the rescue as best he could. He told us to take the van and go home. He told us to come back next week and we would do the paperwork on the van. The only thing that he could have done better is sing a lullaby to Trey and drive us all home. We climbed in for the long trip across the wasteland.