As all cross country trips should, this one held promise. A fresh start with possible jobs and warmer weather. Michigan had also held promise, living by family and cooler weather. The move to Michigan was still fresh in our minds as we began discussing a move to Phoenix. For the move from California to Michigan, we had hired a moving company that moved all of our stuff for us, and charged us triple what they had estimated for us. We were still sore from the transaction and so decided we would take a different approach. The plan was to sell the majority of our things at a garage sale and buy a cheap pickup off craigslist; hauling whatever was left in that and our little car across the country.
We embraced the idea and were soon digging through all of our things (most of which were still in boxes from our original move to Michigan) to find out what we needed and wanted and what would fit. Soon we had things narrowed down. We were ready to part ways with what felt like most of our stuff! We set up the garage sale and sold things for three consecutive days. We made a healthy profit and felt good about getting rid of a lot of our things! Oh and we bought a truck.
The truck was discovered on Craigslist. It was a 1989 Chevy S-10 for sale for $450 and was blue in color. The truck was nearly an hour and a half away from where we were, so one evening my brother and I went to look at it. I looked at the truck and test drove it. It seemed to run decently enough for the price they were asking so I made the executive decision to purchase the vehicle. On the way home, the truck died in a traffic jam on the highway. The battery seemed to be dead so my brother and I got someone to stop and give it a jump because my brother did not happen to be carrying any jumper cables with him. Well the truck started up with a jump, and I drove it nearly 100 yards before it lost its charge and died again. At this point I figured it must be the alternator so I was content with calling AAA to come and tow me back to the house. I put the battery on a charge and got it to run to Autozone so they could run the free tests to determine if the battery was bad or if it was indeed the alternator. Well, while I was there, a few people looked at it and noticed that the pulley on the serpentine belt had seized up and had basically whittled away half of the pulley and in the process stretched out the belt until it was nearly useless. At that very moment a former Autozone employee named Al came in who just happened to own and work on S-10's frequently. He said he would be willing to take a look at the truck and see what he could do. He ended up working on the truck in the parking lot for nearly two hours. He changed the belt and pulley and discovered that the reason the alternator was not working was actually because the belt was too loose and was not spinning it fast enough. This was great news and saved us many dollars. At the end of everything, Al only asked us for $35 for his work! During this time I learned a lot about the truck including the fact that it was a 2.5 liter, rear wheel drive with no A/C or power steering and the actual name given to the engine for that specific model was the "Iron Duke".
As the trip neared, we were busy sorting and preparing the final cut for what would make it and what would be sold in the garage sale. We had the garage sale, and made all the money back that the truck had cost and then some. Things were looking up. I got the truck licensed and insured and we were ready to be off. We packed the truck full and then the car full, and left for Arizona on the morning of Tuesday, May 12.
We drove through Michigan and through the corner of Indiana before hitting Illinois and the city of Chicago. Tannia and I were using Walkie-Talkie's we had borrowed from my sister Joanna and her husband Matt specifically for the trip. We conversed occasionally, and we were enjoying the beautiful day while driving across the country. I knew the truck was old so I was driving conservatively, barely meeting and rarely surpassing the speed limit. We passed out of Chicago and through Joliet approximately four hours into our twenty-nine hour trip when. . . the truck gave a wicked jolt and seemed to lose some of its power. I got on the horn and asked Ta how she was doing. She said, "fine," but mentioned that she had seen what looked like smoke come out of the exhaust of the truck once or twice. I then responded that I thought there was something wrong. At that very moment, the truck bucked again and began blowing smoke out the exhaust and out from under the hood. Meanwhile Ta could be heard screaming through Walkie-Talkie in the background, "Pull over! You're on fire!!! Smoke's everywhere!"
I quickly pulled over to have a look. As I popped the hood, smoke blew in my face and as it cleared I realized that this problem was not easily solvable. The entire engine was covered in oil and our trip was going to be adjusted. I called AAA for the second time in a few weeks and waited. During the time it took the the tow truck to arrive Tannia and I were able to discuss our options if the truck was ruined, which seemed few, and later proved less than that. During this time, I also gave the truck the nickname Biron Boil which reflected it's engine, "Iron Duke" and the problem it seemed to have, "boiling oil". This breakdown happened at approximately 1:30 P.M. Eastern Time.
The tow truck arrived and loaded poor Biron. I was forced to ride in the tow truck as we had packed the Jetta to maximum capacity with the expectation of only having one person (and pup) in the car. We arrived at the shop and the mechanic came out quickly. He started the truck up and took a look under the hood. It took him approximately 30 seconds to discover the problem. We had blown a piston and the truck was done. Dead. He crossed himself, looked over at me and solemnly said, "She's gone." He then proceeded to offer me $50 dollars for the title so he could sell it to the junkyard. (We happened to have the title with us because we were moving and had everything with us).
Tannia and I then had some decisions to make. I called several car rental companies to price out what it might cost to rent a one way vehicle to Phoenix. We quickly realized it was way out of our price range, and we eventually came to the conclusion that we were going to have to fit what we could in our car, and leave the rest in the small town of Channahon, Illinois.
What happened next was a horrifying and somehow cathartic experience of unpacking, repacking, and decision making. First, we unpacked both vehicles and made piles of things to obviously leave behind and obviously keep, as well as a pile of maybes. This was not as easy as it sounds, simply because we had already gone through this process only days before as we prepared to have the garage sale. This was the "must have" stuff that we had already chosen to keep! Now we went through it all again and made piles. We went through boxes and sorted; the things we were leaving got thrown in the back of Biron Boil, and the things we were keeping were stacked neatly beside the car. It was a moment in life where we were forced to realize the fact that stuff is just stuff. The first time something glass broke as we threw it into the truck, we realized the therapeutic potential and proceeded to unleash emotions with the fling of the arm and the release of fingers. For Ta, it was as liberating and painful as ripping off a band-aid; we agreed once it went into the truck, it did not come back out. She reclaimed a pair of shoes once; I did not say anything. Eventually the sorting was done, the car was filled up beyond capacity and the "maybe" pile had been forced into the "leaving behind" pile. Dusk was quickly moving in as we got the last things loaded into the car. This included Tannia in the passenger seat with things stacked at her feet, our pup on her lap, and bags all around her for what must have been the most uncomfortable road trip she had been on. It took 10 minutes every time we stopped to load her in and out of the car. The last thing we did was to rope and tape our guitar to the roof-rack, and as we were doing that, it began to rain. In that moment we felt that our miserable day was complete, but we were also thankful for the fact that the rain had held off that long.
In the end, we learned a lot about what is important and what is not, both literally and figuratively (Ta still cringes from time to time). It also diminished our desire to acquire treasures where rust and moths destroy, and of course, added to this adventure called life.
A few pictures....
