Adventure Is On I15

This weekend I decided that it would be a fun idea to go home on an unplanned visit. My father had no idea I was coming, and my mother thought I would not get there until evening. I showed up on my back porch Friday at noon and proceeded to have a lovely weekend! 

I rode around in my sister's convertible. I went to stake conference with my father. I did a ton of fun things! I had so much fun this weekend, that I chose to stay at home until Monday morning. I had nothing going on until about 11 AM. (being a Grad student is nice that way) So, barring some tragedy, I decided that I had plenty of time to get back for school and still spend another evening with my family.

Monday morning dawned bright and beautiful as I began the last leg of my adventure. Little did I know that my adventure would bring me so much. 

I was a mere 30 miles from my destination of Cedar City, Utah (after driving 3 hours), and I was having a grand old time. I was singing along with my brand new Barbra Streisand CD and munching on Baken-ets chips, when suddenly tragedy struck! My dear, lovely, wonderful little Baja *thunked*. Now, if you know anything about cars, they are not supposed to *thunk*. They definitely are not supposed to start smoking profusely either. As I pulled my vehicle to the side of the road, I turned the radio off and started to wonder how to deal with this problem. 

Once I arrived at my new destination of 
I15 mile-marker # 86, 
I realized that my engine was not making a peep. There was no gentle lovable hum. There was no sound at all. This was bad.

Little bit of background information: I am 22 years old. I don't like driving long distances by myself. My parents were both at school. And I had NO idea whatsoever of what to do in this situation. I have never had a car break down. I have never seen my parents cars break down. 

This was very new. 

I proceeded to call both my parents to get assistance in what the heck I was even supposed to do now. Meanwhile, cars are zooming past, caring nothing for my panic. I FINALLY got ahold of my mother and (scared the crap out of her at work) received all the necessary guidance for this new bout of fun. 

I called the insurance people (hoping this would not affect my rates) and found out that I get one free tow! Thank you Mom and Dad for having this insurance! I could wait for a tow truck! That would be fine. Then the operator told me that I had approximately a 90 minute wait.

This was at 10 AM. I was going to miss all the things. So, to remain calm (while sitting in my toasty vehicle on the side of the freeway) I proceeded to call professors and anyone I would possibly need to notify. After this so called fun I got out of the car and decided to brave the terror of opening the hood. I knew I couldn't fix anything, but I wanted to at least see if the problem was something I could see. Ever seen the aftermath of shooting multiple cans of oil? Neither have I, but I have a pretty good idea what it would look like. There was oil everywhere in there! No way I could fix this. 

My car essentially had the flu and threw up all over itself! 

This is when I realized that the tow truck was going to take me to my apartment. What on earth was I going to do with my sad little sick car there? This conundrum was solved with the old standby of "Phone A Friend"! Luckily I have "car people" friends and friends with tow straps...these friends were not the same person interestingly enough. 

----Two Hours Later----

I was finally picked up after sitting in the hot sun for two hours, and taken to my home. 

I will now skip the anecdote of towing my car to the shop and the silly looks I got when I told the man there that my car had, indeed, *thunked*, smoked, and looked like a vehicular slaughter case.

----This Brings Us to Today----

I received a call from a kind man at the shop. He literally asked me if I was sitting down. 

(I may be emotionally attached to my car) 

Diagnosis of the problem: My sunny little truck threw a rod. 

Apparently if I go down to the shop they can show me what this means. I was told that my engine literally has a huge hole in the top of it. My engine has exploded. 

So it's not just the flu. My car has to have a heart transplant. Ok. 

More life experience!

Oh Happy Day! 

(I hope that you have enjoyed reading this story. I am trying to blog again. This could be interesting.)