Trouble

Quite possibly the most luxurious car repair waiting room I've ever seen.  Which is where I am now.  Goose is leaking green lifeblood from somewhere, like a Vulcan wounded on the battlefield.

 

 

Update:  Spent far too long polishing and posting the big post from this morning, but it was important to me, so I don't begrudge the time.  Then headed over to the nearby Sierra Trading Post Outlet, which has been on my list of places to see for a long time.

 

For years I got the colorful Sierra Trading Post catalogs in the mail offering great deals on clothing and outdoor gear, along with subtly placed bible verses.  I never managed to buy anything from them, though I saw things I might like to order, usually when I was broke.  I haven't received one of their catalogs in a long time, but since there's an outlet here in Cheyenne, I wanted to stop in.

 

Pulled into a parking space at the location on Campstool Road (and what a great name that is), and that's when I smelled the unmistakable odor of coolant and heard an ominous hissing sound.  The little girl in me wanted to pretend this wasn't happening and just go SHOP, but the big girl opened the hood and had a look.  There was coolant all over creation, and a dreary dripping from somewhere near the bottom of the radiator.

 

I went into the store and asked the gal behind the counter for some local auto repair recommendations.  She helped me find a few places to call.  One of the employees offered to come take a look, which I thought was very chivalrous, but I knew there wasn't much he could do in the parking lot.  I went out and started calling repair shops.  Everybody was too busy to see me today except Midas.  They sent me over to their express location which usually just does quick servicing.  Jason dropped everything, laid down on the ground and began poking around trying to find the leak.  He found it.  I was hoping (believing) that it was only a hose, a clamp, a loose connection somewhere.  But after a good deal of searching, he stood up, shook his head, and said, "It's your radiator, hon."

 

Jason sent me over to the main Midas location on Lincolnway.  They verified the radiator is shot.  This is depressing, because that radiator was new less than 2 years ago.  I guess the climb over the Rockies was too much for it.  I called the excellent Scot Hardie, my mechanic back home at Art Stange Automotive and chatted the problem with him, but other than offering condolences and the advice to ask for an all metal radiator, there wasn't much he could do from 1200 miles away.  No warranty left either.  That ended about six months ago  Arrrrghghghghgh!

The bill is a corker.  But Midas is a big chain with locations back home, so I'll have warranty service and some recourse if this one fails during the warranty period.  And they can get the part in about 45 minutes.  It may be possible to salvage something out of this day after all.

 

When leaving on a big trip, I think about all the things that could go wrong, and I worry.  But one thing you can be sure of, on a journey something will go wrong.  That is part of the journey.  But very few problems are the end of the world, and eventually we learn that we can handle them, we can be strong and deal with it like a professional driver would.  A shrug, a grin, a joke, and a chance to sit in a comfy waiting room and eat a Cinnabon and blog to the peeps back home.  I guess I can't really complain.