26 January 2004
Death of A Forester
The Forester is dead. Long live the Forester!
Here I am in the towtruck, with the Forester riding behind me. It took about two hours for the towtruck to arrive in Hopland to take me to Ukiah. By this time, I was already very tired and a little cold. I was still optimistic about my Forester's chances. Perhaps it had merely broken a timing belt.
The towtruck driver was a cutie! He didn't have much to say beyond apologizing for making me wait. I asked him whether he lives in Ukiah. "Yup." I asked him whether he grew up there. "Yup." When he saw my camera, he asked whether I'm a photographer, and seemed impressed when I said that no, I'm a writer.
Naturally, the mechanic was closed on Sunday, so I checked into the hotel down the road. I enjoyed cable TV, free tea all night, free Internet access, free breakfast in the morning, and this king-size bed with its tacky bedspread. I ate chocolate in bed and watched bad movies on HBO.
I felt much better after dinner and a margarita at the Applebees across the street. Half the patrons seemed to know each other or the staff. The food was mediocre of course, but the margarita was generously large. Still, I later ordered a shot of tequila to top it off. Car trouble isn't so bad, after all!
In the morning, Renee heroically drove all the way to Ukiah to pick me up! We went to lunch at Jensen's Truck Stop, and she explained what the mechanic meant when he said I "threw a rod". Basically, my engine fatally stabbed itself, and the only remedy is a whole new engine. In other words, total calamity.
I retrieved all my belongings out of the Forester and said goodbye. Wah! Fortunately, the nice mechanic, Marcus, offered to buy the Forester's remains, saving me the trouble of trying to salvage the poor thing. It's a reasonably happy ending, all things considered. My Forester will live on, in more competent hands than mine.