I am supposed to be in Spain right now. Unpacking in our hotel room overlooking the Mediterranean. Instead, I’m next to the wood stove in the yurt, watching day 2 in another round of snow storms which have turned Maine, and all New England airports, into a frozen whiteout.
It could have been worse. We could have found out about the canceled flights after arriving in Boston to be stuck until this is blown out on Friday, with the next storm slated for Saturday, and another again on Tuesday! At least we never left Maine to waste money and annual leave to harass despairing ticket agents. This vacation was just not meant to be.
But this is not a story about needing to be a flexible traveler or the difficulties of living in Maine in the winter. This is about what happened after we found out vacation was canceled and life was supposed to be just going on as normal.
I went to work, of course. I needed to pull back my time sheet that said I was using 72 hours of my preciously hoarded vacation time, tell my employees I wasn’t out of the country, and then head into town to buy groceries before the next storm brought all traffic to a standstill. Raven was in charge of resupplying us with water (we’d emptied the cisterns expecting to leave and let the yurt go into deep freeze) while I was tackling food.
It was already snowing, a few inches on the ground as the first hours of a two day snow event unfolded. I was almost home. Coming up a big hill that moves you from a coastal elevation of just above sea level to 600 feet, I slowed to queue for a line of traffic behind a heavy truck. And then the oil light quickly followed by the battery light came on in the car.
You thought I was going to say I slid or the car behind me did! No such ill fate, this time, I’m happy to say. As a fan of Car Talk and my car a 1997 BMW 328i, which at almost 200,000 miles and getting over 30 mpg has become one of my favorite possessions, I didn’t mess around. I pulled over as soon as I saw the first light come on. Off the road, the car died. It turned over when I tried and died again. Okay, plan B: call Raven.
I didn’t just call him because he is my husband and would probably like to know the car had died on a very steep hill during a snow storm. I called him because I knew if his mechanical abilities couldn’t solve the problem, he had the Jeep. Five minutes later the Jeep appeared over the edge of the hill.
I’ve written four posts about my KLR 650 motorcycle (Canadian Maritimes on Two Wheels, The Cabot Trail Windershins, World Travel, the KLR650 and Being a Girl, A Girl on a Motorcycle – Gender Perspectives) but the only mention we’ve given to the Jeep is on our About page. That is going to change here.
I bought the Jeep in 1996 after getting out of college. Raven likes to refer to it as his Jeep, but if I’ve done my calculations correctly, he wasn’t even out of high school then! I think he could drive though. 😉 I do admit it has been his blood, sweat, and swearing that have kept the Jeep running this long. It has achieved a noble 178,000 miles. It is one of the reasons Raven and I met. We are both very attached to this 4 wheel drive, little green metal monster.
Why a Jeep? I rode in an older model one night after watching Jurassic Park in Virginia. I knew right then and there I wanted one. I peppered the owner for advice, likes and dislikes. I loved that a Jeep will hold its value while so many cars do not. I liked the size, the feel, the look, and the capabilities. So, the first car I bought was a 4 cylinder Jeep, brand new with 16 miles on it. It took me two weeks to learn to drive the manual transmission. Okay, so I’m a little head strong and knew I wanted a manual transmission. I figured I’d learn and I did. I tend not to sweat details.
During my years of sole ownership, I drove through mud, gravel roads, highway miles, and found out that balancing it on the skid plate with all four wheels off the ground was a bad idea. I learned to change the oil and the serpentine belt. When I ran into Raven during the summer of 2000, the Jeep and I had already been places including a move from Virginia to Maine and then a fully loaded trip around Boston and across to the Vineyard on the ferry.
It was the Jeep and my cooking that snagged Raven from the get go. We courted by letting the air out of the tires and driving it down the sand paths to Chappaquiddick Island. Since then, the Jeep’s feats have become legendary. We’ve towed a MacGreggor 25 and the O’day 22 sailboats, including launching and pulling up boat ramps. This fall we pulled the O’day at low tide and had the poor Jeep submerged over half way. Six inches of water flooded the floor boards. People on the dock stared in shock until someone commented it would make a great commercial. Oh in case you didn’t know, we already had the drain plugs in the floor boards pulled. How can you not love a vehicle that has a waterproof interior?
We have pulled stumps, pulled and transplanted a quince bush, moved all of our possessions from Orrington to Montville and then half back to Belfast to be donated to Goodwill, towed sailboats and trailers, hauled firewood, carried lumber and kayaks, gone camping in the backwoods of Maine, driven it to the Vineyard, Pennsylvania and back again, driven across frozen lakes, gone to work, filled it with groceries, and used it as an all around emergency staging platform. Raven alone has helped out stuck drivers by towing a dump truck out of the mud and a 4×4 Dodge Ram pulling a loaded 30 foot cargo container that couldn’t make it up the hill by the yurt. Yes with a little 4 cylinder Jeep. They were impressed too.
So I obviously love this little Jeep. I would recommend one to anyone as a good all round vehicle even if, admittedly, the gas mileage hovers between 18 and 21 mpg. But why this ode to a vehicle? Because yesterday, it towed something new – the 328 and me.
After trying to turn over the car once which made it discharge a puddle of antifreeze and make a sound like a belt had let go, Raven concluded catastrophic mechanic failure as the culprit. The car wasn’t going anywhere on its own. He popped out a front trim panel from the 328, threaded in the tow ring (you do also have to love a car designed to actually be towed), pulled out the tow rope, and hooked us up. It was an interesting experience, not necessarily recommended but for emergencies, but Raven and the Jeep got us home then nudged the car into a snowbank with a bumper to bumper shove.
So, it could have been worse. Raven and I had talked about skipping the canceled leg of our fights and driving the 328 to Portland or Montreal to find alternates. The car could have stranded us somewhere far worse than a mile from home. Plus, Raven had the problem diagnosed within half an hour: seized water pump bearing. The old one is already pulled out and the new one on order. Total expense: $150. I think the 328 will see 220,000 miles at least!
And the Jeep? We once thought of trading it in until we saw the prices on used ones (like we would get anything else but another Jeep??) and the abused shape of them. Ours has its problems, but it is really well taken care of. I think we’ll keep it until . . . well until we can no longer buy replacement parts! But then again, Raven could probably make them!