Tag Archives: car trouble

The Voyage Continues

Or does it?

If you read between the lines.  If you’ve read all of the comments and our replies.  If you’ve glanced at a map or noticed a change in our pace.  If we bothered to tell you anything at all.  Put these pieces together and take note.  A circle is completed as we write from our Towson home.  Travel decisions each day were affected by so many things.  We left in hopes of “6 months to a year on the road”.   A chance to bike, hike, ski and live wherever the day took us.  One hundred and ninety days later we felt the calls homeward.  Each day on the road we asked, “where should we go tomorrow?”

As we drove down from the Rockies toward Denver, my answer was “maybe we should head home?”  This thought was cemented as we spoke of finances.  A warm day of mountain biking was enough to detain us in Kansas, but not to change our direction.  A few grey days on the road, and storms that kept threatening from the North nudged us Eastward.  A final clear day, snow on the Ohio and Pennsylvania grass led us to see I-70 as a good way home, despite previous months of avoiding Interstates.

Over my shoulder we knew the Baltimore sign depicted the long road from Fort Cove, UT

With a quick picture over my shoulder we knew this Baltimore sign depicted the long road we drove from Denver, and Utah near Zion and Moab

Locals had led us to unexpected jewels!  Serendipity showed us safety and regular smiles!  I got to ski a whole lot!  We hiked peaks, canyons and caverns!  Jane saw warmth and wildflowers!  In fact, today we see the old tricks of March; wet snow, heavy branches and refrigerated blossoms.  No worry, it melts fast this time of year.

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The pressures that led us home were many.  We ran out of paper towels.  The Tramper account has seen only withdrawals for months now.  Both of us need to find jobs and pay some bills.   Marfa kept raising concerns about that big Continental Divide.  If needed, I’d imagined a plan to rent a truck in Utah, towing the heavy Tramper over the mountain passes to Denver if necessary.  With  Jane driving the 4Runner sans trailer, it would do fine.  The concerns continued, passes provided 25 mph crawls, but the transmission temperature never went out of control again.

Ahh, but the concern for this and other bits went on.  The 5  Day weather reports gave us windows to travel in.  (I won’t tow in snow and have even avoided rain as much as practical)  Safety is always a lens of concern for me.  My focus on joy and adventure is tempered by wanting to get home safe.  My responsibility to “keep Jane safe” is not just a funny topic.  Many nights were lightly slept in anticipation of noises or vehicles arriving nearby.

Yes, we crested one of the highest points in our journey, skied a few more times, and headed East.  I poked fun at our nation; “they’ll be nothing to do between here (Summit County, CO) and the Appalachian Mountains.”  “My cousin used to drive from Colorado to Baltimore in 36 hours.  We’ll be home in 3 or 4 days”.  Fortunately Kansas threw a surprise at me.  The world is full of surprises.  You’d think I would have remembered that lesson from earlier in the “Voyage”. 

We have many thoughts to share.  We have over 11,000 pictures to peruse and condense to a more sharable 100 or so.  We have memories of our longest “vacation” ever.  We have lists of new friends.  We have blog and Facebook followers.  And we have lots more to say.  We will be looking back at the trip and looking at its impact on us.  One visitor we met in Colorado asked, “How has your perspective changed”.  I shied from an answer, telling him I will know more a few months after our return.  If I don’t change actions or lifestyle, how can I say my perspective has changed?

We wonder if there are other questions out there.  We are likely to post retrospective thoughts.  Maybe a bit of logistics, maybe we’ll post what we’d do differently, perhaps a few suggestions for future travelers.  I want to post a piece with all of the barns we saw.   I see a whole post of cool things seen on trucks.  Trains became our favorite night time neighbors.  Wind energy prompted inquiry all across the country.  We hope to add more thoughts and questions.  Our life now has the vision of the Tramper.

Over all it was such a treat!  Jane and I lived in a 70 square foot space, awoke and stayed together 24/7 and not once broke into fisticuffs as Jimmy Cotton, our new friend in North Carolina had feared.  We truly hope that as we traveled, you enjoyed.  As we posted pictures, you felt a fraction of the awe we shared.  Surely if we can do The Voyage of the Tramper, whatever you are dreaming of is possible too!

-David

Even in a “Hurry” on the Road we TRY to see and DO things

If you pay attention in places like Skyline Drive, VA you’ll see America driving to see their country.  This morning here at Einstein Brothers we enjoyed Wifi and a rare store-prepared breakfast of lox.  Then we realized we could have used the drive-through.  That seems frequently the mode of vacationers too.  There are pull-offs at each viewpoint and overlook along that nice ridge in Virginia, many in Grand Canyon, Zion  and Arches.  We remember our earlier post comment that <1% of visitors go below the Rim at Grand Canyon.  Driving, eating, stopping, peeking, snapping a few pictures, we humbly do our share that way too.

Sometimes darkness looms, or a destination beckons.  Whatever our mindset, we  often feel driven to keep driving.  We do, however, try to experience a place in some way.  Remember, 1/2 mile from any parking lot it is nearly empty and you’ll find a peaceful solace.    With this in mind we left California to drive across the Mojave again.  Rarely retracing steps like this we saw few realistic options out here.  Mountain ranges and deep valleys line up travel mostly into North-South barriers.  Think Donner Pass etc.  To get around differently would require a 2-4 hundred mile trek North.

The Mojave delivered its usual dose of challenge for Marfa.  A 24 mile climb varying back and forth from moderate to steep.  With only a Pinyon bush each mile or two as shade, I pointed out the scarred asphalt on the shoulder from cars that burned…some looked scorched and completely melted with the telling white powder of a fire extinguisher or two.  The Transmission light ON AGAIN even with a new radiator!  (As of now, a week later, I have added Water-Wetter.  Physics to the rescue; it is a wetting agent that allows water/antifreeze to contact metals better.  Should be another 10-20%  difference and was easy to find in the desert at a Moab auto parts store.  Jeeps, 4X4’s, and off-road motorcyclists know about it too.  Marfa’s temperature gauge reflects this so far, fingers-crossed again as it stays cooler, “left of center” in all climbs so far).

Back to my original tangent, the road and travels continue.  Moab was calling us with a predicted three sunny days above 60 degrees.  Pressing today’s drive further than average we saw the little corner of Arizona offering a BLM campground.  I usually avoid driving into darkness, but with a camping destination it always seems easier.  Darkness, wind and the high baffling walls of a canyon arrived at the same time.  Hadn’t seen this one on the map really.  The Virgin River cut a canyon as deep, dark and surprising as could be, and man stuck this road down in there.  Maybe I was tired, but here was another white-knuckle downhill with the thought I’d have been parked safely by now.

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This view matches the educational plaque above

This view matches the educational plaque above

Healthy Joshua Tree blooming!

Healthy Joshua Tree blooming!

Awakening in a place darkness had concealed is another true joy of this sort of trip.  The Virgin River Canyon was another of those brightening experiences.  Fortified by sleep, pancakes with butter and real maple syrup we are coaxed out for a morning hike to the river. Water again. Real, running water.  Life giving water.  Jane and I sat enjoying the sparkling morning sun imagining what a sight this would have been to find for thirsty ancient travelers.  In every epoch, humans thirst.  Ancestral Puebloans, Spanish explorers, all thirst, especially in the arid high desert.

Morning comes, I step out.  where are we?

Morning comes, I step out. Where are we?

Where would we be without it?

Where would we be without it?

After leaving the little 27 mile corner of Arizona, we veered off of I-15 and chose to go through Zion and investigate several hikes.  One suggested by Mark back home was The Wave.  Unfortunately access is limited to 16-20 visitors per day and a four month lottery had already filled those slots.  We drove through Zion and it’s one mile tunnel through a solid rock wall and saw what strikes so many as one of the most beautiful places.  Canyons of striking red and sand colors are also verdant.  The difference appears to be water.  Big trees, streams and a wetter desert with delightful coniferous forests abound.  Our hike was kept short as we “wanted to get where we were going”.  Moab called, but we probably could have enjoyed a week in Zion.  “At least we left the road for a hike.”

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Hard to keep my eyes on the  road

Hard to keep my eyes on the road

Into that tunnel?

Into that tunnel?

More wild layers

More wild layers

Surprises on the road

Surprises on the road

Nice surprises on the road

Yummy surprises on the road

-David

DAY 163 2/20/2013 A Navajo Welcome

Marfa the 4Runner had seemed to recover without event from the Transmission “Overheat” in Red Pass, Colorado.  We skied and travelled another hundred miles with no sign of that pesky red light.  Then, on a 45 degree day crossing level  desert West of 4 Corners, CO, without any big hills; there goes that light again!  Dang!  If its going “ON” now, we’ll never be able to travel in a “hot climate”.   Stop again.  Check fluid level again.  Bend the front license plate up to allow more air.  Let it cool and drive some more.

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Automatic transmissions are NOT my favorite.  In fact, all of our family vehicles are “standard” 5 speeds.  One reason is that an automatic provides a black box of invisible problems that often can only be mysteriously and expensively solved.  As teens, my friends derisively called automatics, “slush boxes or washing machines”.  It is just this trait that causes problems.  By nature, there is slippage.  Slippage generates heat.  Clutches are a direct hookup.  Poor Marfa, she came off the assembly line with a 4 speed automatic and often can’t decide which gear to be in.

We drove about 30 careful miles to Kayenta, a small dot on the Arizona map deep within the huge Navajo Reservation.  She didn’t trip the light, but we just can’t be crossing hundreds of empty desert miles with our fingers crossed.  Again we saw signs for “just what we needed as we slowed into town”.  NAPA auto parts, gas stations and hotels greeted our tense bodies.

Jane and I have affinities toward the Native American cultures as well as deep concerns for their present state.  (I detest the word Reservation, and wonder what their overall feel for that is sometimes…) We posed with heads hung low for a picture back at The Museum of the Cherokee Indian in North Carolina.  (link) We beamed when we saw the message in that town: UNITY!  Yet with mild trepidation we parked and opened the darkly tinted and steel barred doors at the dusty NAPA in Kayenta.  A big friendly cat sat calmly on the counter.  Surely a good sign.

Another safe haven

Another safe haven

Sam, the manager and I discussed the possibility that the transmission filter may be clogged and leading to poor flow.  Marfa’s fluid has been changed twice.  Once at home and the other time errantly blasting everywhere in Alabama (link).  Then too we had car parts stores and safe level ground available for repairs; “where is my super-suit”?  By phone later, Lynn too, concurred that the filter needed to be checked and changed.

Agreeing that the simplest, cheapest solutions are worth a trial, I ordered a filter and pan gasket.  Unfortunately, it would be THURSDAY before they arrived.  As is often our path, Jane and I simultaneously came to the same decision and looked to getting a hotel for the night.  OUR FIRST NIGHT IN A HOTEL IN 162 days!

"I'll wait right here; and won't eat much"

“I’ll wait right here; and won’t eat much”

The Wetherill Inn had a very nice stray, greeter dog wandering its lot. Also a good sign for us.  He seemed to enjoy our carefully measured treats as we moved a few belongings in for a good night sleep in a King Sized bed.  Funny, who needs all that space?

I also decided that paying a shop to do the drain and change was better than spilling red transmission fluid anywhere out here.  Sam suggested seeing Edward up at the crossroads where we came in.  The shop is part of an Alon gas station and showed years of red-brown dirt from completed jobs all over the floor and shelves.  It may not seem culturally sensitive to mention that everyone we’ve been meeting has beautiful shiny black hair and the proud features of the Navajo.  They have also been universally friendly.

After making an service appointment we walked over to the Blue Coffee Pot.  Jane and I always look for small, local businesses so the “Cash Only” sign didn’t bother us a bit.  We sat, self-consciously at a table in the sun.  Smiles beget smiles.  We looked around, not wanting to betray our slight discomfort nor the love for the people around us.  A family waited patiently for their food beside us and gently asked if we were traveling and where to.  Husband, wife and son all asked about pieces of our trip.  Laughing about relatives who’ve travelled to some of our destinations.  OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERADonald senior gave us his phone number and asked that we call if we needed ANYTHING.  “Its really rugged out here.”  As we explained our path, Donnie the son, smiled warmly saying “We all have to work together”.  (UNITY again…)

Note the preponderance of pickup trucks with feed

Note the preponderance of pickup trucks with feed

Later we went to Navajo National Monument, parked in a delightful free campground and hiked to view Betatakin, yet another Ancestral Puebloan ruin.  A great sunset accompanied our cold little cookout while we grilled elk burgers bought way back in Salida.  Another calm and cozy Tramper night while musing how great the privilege to sleep within the Navajo Reservation.   The Navajo rugs and silver in the gift shop beguiled us more.  We had NO Hesitation leaving the Tramper alone in the campground while we took Marfa to town for service.

That arch is 452 ft tall and deep within lies Betatakin Pueblo, residence of about 100-120 people

That arch is 452 ft tall and deep within lies Betatakin Pueblo, residence of about 100-120 people

As seen from above, across the canyon.  In Summer, you can tour with guides

As seen from above, across the canyon. In Summer, you can tour with guides

Again we feasted on delicious Navajo breads and tortillas for a lunch at the Blue Coffeepot.  Today’s social bridge was a 4 year-old angel named Summer.  She was pulling the hood from her “Peace sign print” winter coat playfully over her face.  Her grandparents too, couldn’t have been nicer or more full of smiling warmth.  Delores and John insisted we take their phone number in case we needed it.  Delores came over to the table and spelled the name of her town: Chilchinbito, about 30 miles away.  Suggesting we stop in if we need them for anything graced us once again.

Jane and I quietly glanced at each other, lumps in throats, squelching our tears of joy, knowing grace and thanks.  Seeing no evidence of malice in races that have known the history of the Trail of Tears and the worst of settlers and pioneer  treatment is the fulfillment of that Cherokee sentiment.  UNITY.  We could all learn from that one.  Ghandi, Martin Luther King, Cherokee, and Navajo, all peaceful responses.  Love!

-David

DAY 158 2/15/2013 Farewell Friends and Monarch!

Rolling down off the site

Rolling down off the site

Today we packed up, hitched up and rolled out.  This was a near daily event on the Voyage until Heart of the Rockies where we’ve been docked since January one.  Here we skied.  Here we met our hosts, Hollly, Gayle, and the ever-so-happy Aiden.  Here we met The LivingstonFamilyAdventure!  Gabe, Marci, Mason, Adin, Asher, Mark, Niko.  We met Jeff and Snoogins.  And all have found their way into our hearts.  We were a community surviving the cold with the common Mountain interest.  Living in the venturi above Salida we all braved the scouring high winds.  We cooked out apres- ski at 10 degrees as the sun went down.  We opened our door to the wind ripping it out of our hands more times than not.  Double dates, potlucks of Gumbo, Curry, Ribs and laughter will not be forgotten or taken for granted.  Gathering those joys is truly life’s bounty.  Warmth in the cold of Winter.

Bye Bye Monarch

Bye Bye Monarch

Another odd thing for David to do is leave a ski area just as the season gets rolling, all trails opened and the backcountry getting deeper.  But this is not a ski trip.  This is not JUST a ski trip.  It is longer, deeper and open to a tomorrow with whatever it brings.

We have left family, new friends and new places before.  Sometimes just a few days after meeting them.  Its hard, but the road calls…the next adventure hides around the corner.  This time it was much  harder.  Climbing Monarch Pass to cross the Continental Divide felt like leaving old friends again!  Unprompted, I looked over at Jane once and knew she had the same lump in her throat.

But here we go.  Yup, another milestone driven.  Colorado DOT webcams to give a limited idea of road conditions.  Four new inches of snow at Monarch was not “EPIC” enough to delay leaving.  The roads below the pass were dry, and above 10,000 feet looked like just a little snow pack.  Ice too would have kept us safely parked at “home”.

Poor Marfa (the Faithful 4Runner, as you’ll recall), strolled up the pass with her 3400 lb load, going only 25 mph on the steeper sections.  Coloradans have no hesitation to pass, but I don’t put myself in a ditch for their convenience.  Hazard lights flashing and a caution triangle emblazoned on the spare should be enough to send ’em around.  Even the downhill!

Rolling down slowly

Rolling down slowly

Especially the downhill gave me caution.  30 mph caution signs at cliff-edged curves, a “runaway truck ramp” and snow packed surface combined; I went 25-30 downhill too.  Never have I driven a rig that demands attention like this.  Adrenaline is usually served only for sports, not just driving!

We pulled a big “hundred mile day” and found a National Forest access road to the Cimarron River.  A peaceful night capped off our dusky walk seeing an eagle and nice herd of elk!  Quiet, 0 degrees, cozy.  Off we went again in the AM.

Off West past Gunnison, Wifi’d our safe departure to family and the Colorado community and on we went.  South on 550.  Had I known Red Mountain Pass I may have gone another way.  It was dry, clear and sunny;I definitely would have detoured if it weren’t…but wow!

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Jane peers out the window into the abyss (note small piece of road in right corner)

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Nice scenery-NO GUARDRAILS!

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The Valley Looms 500-1000 feet below!  Did I mention NO GUARDRAILS?

Sometimes a glimpse of the road ahead has you wondering where it squeezes through?

Sometimes a glimpse of the road ahead has you wondering where it squeezes through?

 

Coalbank Pass' road as an engineering marvel stretches out below

Molas and Coalbank Pass’ road as an engineering marvel stretches out below

I had heard Monarch is one of the higher passes, but had no idea normal cars would be routed over anything like Red Mt (and it’s requisite partners Molas and Coalbank) year round.  Poor Marfa, her transmission started to overheat as indicated by a little red warning light.

Removing ALL cardboard from radiators and checking transmission fluid!

Removing ALL cardboard from radiator, trans cooler and checking transmission fluid!

14 miles uphill at 20-28 mph, no guard rails, thousand foot cliffs, very few pullouts, warnings not to stop secondary to avalanche areas and more than a few ice chunks falling on us while we crawled!  WOW!  Did I say Monarch was stressful?  We pulled into a small passing area and I pulled all of the cardboard that had been shielding the shivering radiator and transmission cooler from the Winter’s air for the past months.  Poor gal, she needed all the air we could give her on THIS climb!  We made it.

Arriving at Durango Mountain Resort (formerly Purgatory) we knew the right move.  Pull in, stay, ski!   (hee hee)  A great dinner was had and improved immensely by visiting across tables with two new friends from Tucson, Angelo and Debbie.  Plus there was a torchlight parade!  Could  it get any better with careful planning?  (As you know, “Serendipity is often our guide!”)

-David

(Fast Wifi allowed lots of pictures today courtesy of Durango Joe’s Coffee)

Do we hurry our road? Or help where needed…

OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERAOn the exciting drive to Copper we saw a silver-grey van stopped, stacks of backpacks and 6 or 8 college students waving as we slowed, but drove just beyond.  Realizing they were waving for help, I thought, they probably have Verizon too (no service here between towns).  I backed up along the shoulder.

The first question was, “do you have any different tools”?  “Our lug wrench is slipping”.  First glance showed 7 loosened lugs on that big right-side, rear van wheel.  My “lug wrench” is part of a pared-down toolbox tossed into a lightweight Homie’s Orange plastic box.  A Craftsman breaker bar and deep socket; it fits both the Tramper and Marfa the 4 Runner.  It did NOT fit the Colorado Mountain College van.

After allowing tries with several other size sockets, it was clear this was a stubborn lug nut.  My “hammer”  is a camp axe, but is in the cubby of the Tramper, back at the campground.  I smacked the offender a few times with the heavy breaker bar.  Shock is your friend against friction.  A small vise grip was quickly tried, broken and abandoned (I gave permission to break or abuse anything as needed).

My next attack included a little trip back into my toolbox and some “creativity”.  I grabbed a hacksaw blade, bent it at about the depth of a socket, 3/8″ or so.  Then, a student handed me the key:  A Bigger Hammer!  This was no ordinary hammer, it was his ice axe.   I pounded the socket over the lug nut with the hacksaw blade wedged  into one flank of the hex.  Pounded some more.  I pushed down with all my weight and pressure inwards to keep that socket on.  Not a budge, despite a few grunts and cuss words.

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Then, I recomposed myself, flipped the wrench to give me the best torque, pulling upwards and grunted some more.  I think it was a Scottish heritage grunt; a Grant Grunt!  And so the lug turned.  Advising them not to worry about driving with 7 out of 8 lugs, I threw my tools back into the box, shook a few hands and ran back to our car.  (Had it not yielded, I would have added a few drops of oil or transmission fluid from a dipstick, and asked if anyone had a camp stove.  Heat, your other friend against friction.  The other, priceless tool is persistence: remember, “The mechanic will have his way”.)

Off to Copper.  They, in turn were soon on their way to ice climb at Vail.