17 Aug 2008
The Joy of the Unexpected, Part 2
Besides a last-minute decision to participate in Crested Butte’s Wild Mushroom Festival (which deserves its own wild story—one I don’t have time to tell right now), we had one more unplanned and unscripted incident. Somewhere between the magnificent Colorado Rockies and the dangerously dull Kansas doldrums, we found ourselves in a nice rainstorm. It is important to state upfront that the driver’s side windshield wiper had taken on the role of an overly zealous crusader in a storm outside Chicago earlier on in the trip. This morning, he took his zeal to a whole new level and tried to wipe the side view mirror off the driver’s side door along with the rain. Needless to say, he got stuck. And we were forced to pull off the highway. After driving up and down the main road of Burlington and discovering to our demise that every auto body shop in town was closed on Sundays, we called AAA and learned that there wasn’t even an auto body shop open within a thirty-mile radius of our current position, and we began to laugh.
We parked outside a Burger King, the only restaurant in town open before 11 o’clock in the morning, and assessed our situation. Realizing our utter ignorance when it came to fixing automobiles and other things of that kind, we went inside to ask for help. A very friendly truck driver offered his services but soon realized the problem was over his head too. (I once thought windshield wipers were simple things. Now I’m beginning to wonder, who really can unravel the intricate depths of a wiper’s soul?)
We went back inside. It was then that we experienced the wonders of a small town community. The restaurant owner got out the area’s yellow pages (a thin, little book) and a telephone; the truck driver gave us names of local mechanics; and several customers offered to help in whatever way they could. Finally, a Ford dealership mechanic agreed to come over and inspect the wild wiper. He deemed the mechanism irreparable until some special part could be ordered, which would take much more time than we had to spare. But by now, the rain had calmed to a drizzle, so with grateful hearts and smiling faces, we took off. We were once again going seventy on 70 when the rain resumed. My vision blurred, and I didn’t have glasses, so I had to slow down. But by looking through the rear-view mirrors, I ensured we stayed between the white lines, and all was well.
The drive through Kansas was so uneventful I fell asleep. (Jared took the wheel, of course.) And after dining at Arthur Bryant’s BBQ, we settled at another KOA just outside Kansas City, Missouri and wrote this blog.
