2003-08-10
I was going to write about the frustrations of eating out, but today I have a better story. (The first part of this entry is not about dieting, and is VERY long; you can scroll down if you want to.)We decided that even though my sis-in-law and her boyfriend couldn�t make it to Mt. Hood this weekend, we would go up for a day trip and enjoy ourselves.
The mountain was huge and so cool. We rode the ski lifts, which is something I have never done, and hiked around. Then we decided to go to the lakes that are around the area. They were also nice, although a little crowded. Since neither of us likes to back track, we decided to go home the back way even though seven of the 39 miles was a dirt road. We were laughing and talking about how when we were kids, coming from small towns, driving fast on dirt roads with the dust behind you making a rooster tail was great fun.
Two and a half mile into the trip we see an oncoming car. Mind you, this is a one-lane, dirt road and we saw no other cars so far. So we moved over to give the other car room and I noticed two rocks in our path. They weren�t very big ones, the first the size of a softball, the next one just a little bigger. We went over the first one with no problems, but the second one bounced underneath our car so hard it rattled our teeth. We just looked at each other and thought nothing of it.
Twenty feet later, my husband says, �We�re leaking something.� I ask him what it could be and he tells me oil maybe, because that�s where the oilpan is. He stops the car and jumps out to investigate. I put on my shoes and look for my cell phone. Of course, there is no service in the mountains, so I put it away. No sooner did I look up and E, my husband, JUMPS up so fast and with huge eyes says �Oh, sh*t, there�s a hole in the gas tank!�
He turns off the car and we both run away from it, each of us thinking that it could blow up at any time, just like in the movies. �What are we gunna do?� I ask him. �Go.� He says, �We�ve got to go some where and get it fixed. We can�t just stay here in the middle of nowhere and do nothing!�
We jump in our car and E is driving so fast. About 60 mph on this tiny dirt road. I�m just trying not to cry while I look at the gas gauge and literally see it dropping. We lost � tank of gas that first six miles. There was a stop sign right before we came to the paved part of the road and we must have only been stopped about 1 second. When I turned around, there was a huge wet stain on the road. �Oh my God, I hope the car doesn�t blow up!� I said out loud. I had to get that thought out. Later last night, E told me that that thought had occurred to him, but until I actually said it out loud, it was just a thought, not a fear. We hit the paved road, swerves and all going about 70-90 mph. I didn�t want to know how fast we were going, I just hung on to the door and my eyes kept wandering from the trip odometer (which E had set when we first set out on the road. Just something we do) to the gas gauge, which was steadily dropping. I knew we had 30 miles to go to the next town, � tank of gas and we were only getting about � mile to a gallon of gas.
E sees one of my socks, picks it up and says, �We can plug it up.� He stops the car and 30 seconds later jumps back in, �Too big, won�t fit.� He�s holding his arm away from his body because it is covered and dripping with gas. I grab a towel and wipe it off for him as he takes off and starts madly driving again.
I must say that other people on the road probably thought we were the biggest assholes they had seen in a long time. We would try to wave them aside, blink our lights at them and pass them going way too fast yet trying to be couscous of everyone�s safety. Thank God the majority of them would get over (we actually only passed four cars). At one point we saw rescue team of firemen, police and paramedics and feared they had the road closed. They didn�t and we passed them. Not too fast I assume, as no one followed us.
E gets the idea for me to rip up my other sock, small enough to try to plug the hole again. He wrapped that piece of sock around the top part of a plastic knife, stops again and much to our relief it actually worked!! The tank was still leaking, but not quite as bad. We only had an eighth of a tank of gas and about 12 miles to go yet at that point. We didn�t know how we would fix the problem and even if this little town would even have anything to fix it with. We figured we�d have to call someone to fix it on Monday and stay in a motel until then.
As we rolled into town, the first thing we see is an auto parts store and across from that a gas station!! We run into the store and ask what we might do to fix our leaking gas tank and the man says to us, so calmly we thought maybe he didn�t hear us at first, �We have our gas tank repair kits over there� and leads us over to them. WTF?? Gas tank repair kits?? Who knew there was such a thing?
Needless to say, it did the job, and now I am safely here in my home, having a cozy day with my honey and enjoying life. I am not blown to bits of charcoal. My car is not in the middle of no-man�s land waiting to be towed. And most of all, my husband here with me.
In other news, weigh in yesterday was great. I am down to 221.0!!! Yea me!
Now I will end this too long entry with one more thing, a disclosure: Please do not attempt to drive at very high speeds with gas flying out of your tank. It is dangerous and scary and stupid. And I also apologize to anyone we might have offended with our horrible driving. We don�t normally drive like that and hope we will never have to again.