[wp_geo_map]Lost Sole #401 was discovered during my layover in Mobile at the Greyhound Bus Station while I was getting some fresh air. The photo below it is of the Trek that almost caused me to die from stress overload. It is hard to look at the pic as I had such high hopes for the journeys we would have in it, but never will.
Well it didnt take long once we had the money saved up and were ready to purchase. We found a perfect coach in nearby New Orleans, and actually cheaper than we expected to pay after calling and speaking with the owner. We were so excited. I began looking for someone to ride with me to pick it up but could not get anyone to go. We for sure we not making Sharon drive 3 hours in the van with a restless Nora and me in an untested motorhome.
After exploring the options of a rental car, or maybe towing the van behind the motorhome. We eventually settled on me taking a Greyhound bus and driving the coach back. It was also the cheapest choice. I went online and booked my ticket for the next day and printed it out.
Upon arriving at the Greyhound station the tone for trip was set. While checking in the attendent informed me I had only printed a ticket to Mobile and was missing my Biloxi, Gulfport and New Orleans connection tickets. I had merely hit print at home and didnt think I needed to have multiple tickets :( I asked her if should could help and she indifferently said “nope”. I was confused, how could she not see my information and see I had bought my tickets all the way to New Orleans? She said her system could not view online purchases. I was now less confused and getting a little angry. She advised me to call customer service and talk to them. So I did.
When I dialed the number all I got was static. I tried again. Same result. Third time is a charm? Nope. So again I went back to her for help. She seemed annoyed at me now. I told her the customer service line seemed dead. She acted as if I was crazy and I swear she rolled her eyes, which started to raise my temper a little. She was of no help and when I asked if I could use her phone to see if it is an issue with my phone, she said no, but I could use the pay phone outside.
I pleaded with her to just try herself and see what happens. Reluctantly she picked up the phone and called the customer service number. “Yep” she answered. “It is not working.” And that was it, she went back to what she was doing. I was S.O.L. apparently.
For a minute I thought about where I could go reprint my tickets was time was running out for departure. So I just re-purchased the tickets for the missing legs of the journey. And so the adventure began.
The trip seemed to drag on and on. Thank goodness I had my phone loaded with a few movies. But to make things par for the course, the one movie I had that I really wanted to watch was not the correct one. I had gotten the title right, 2012, but instead of the blockbuster film I expected, I downloaded the SCI FI channel’s version of it and it was horrible. But what else did I have to watch.
After 6 hours on the bus I was finally in New Orleans with a local time of 5:30 pm. The couple who were selling us the coach offered to pick me up at the station. They both had immigrated from outside the U.S. She was from Argentina and he was from Uruguay, they met in Houston. Her english was broken but still pretty good. His was not good and required her to interpret much of what we had to say. They came off as genuine people and were very nice.
The ride to the storage space where the Trek was being kept was only about 5 minutes. I was pleasantly surprised by what I saw. It was in great shape! They showed me around the motorhome and seemed to be quite proud of how they cared for it. Everything seemed to work and the deal was a go.
It was another short trip to the notary where I gave him the cashiers check and he signed the title over to me. We were now proud owners of a 1995 Safari Trek diesel and a step closer to fulfilling a dream of crossing the country to visit 15 national parks all while going green on used vegetable oil.
It was dark now, around 8:30, and I started up the Trek and proceeded to let it warm up. They led me to the interstate since I was not paying any attention how we had arrived at the storage property. The Trek was driving better than I expected. I made it onto the highway and off I went. I was on cloud nine. I was once again behind the wheel of a motorhome. I was already planning out the modifications and the adventures we would be having. The first hill, a large bridge, came up and I noticed the engine was really loud as it climbed. But it seemed to be doing just fine.
The next bridge came and it was louder, but a different type of noise was coming from the engine and it did not seem to have the same power as the last hill. The noise was a clunking noise, and it grew louder and the coach lost even more power. After cresting the bridge and coasting down the other side I decided to pull off. The engine was making an awful clunking of metal banging against metal and white smoke was pouring out. I shut down the coach and felt a wave of panic comer over me. I felt sick to my stomach. I could not believe this was happening.
I tried to tell myself it was probably something minor, like a spark plug wire came off. Right then I got even more panicked as I realized I was driving a diesel and did not even know if they had spark plugs. No they don’t I thought to myself. They have glow plugs, but do they work the same? With no knowledge of this engine I felt helpless. Oh sh**, I was stuck on the side of the highway in New Orleans far from home. What the hell was I going to do?
It was now 9:30 and dark, it was also getting cold. This was in the middle of one of the worst cold spells that had hit the gulf coast in years. And if you have ever driven into New Orleans from the east on I-10 you know I am not in a good area at all. Even before Hurricane Katrina this area was not a good place and now 6 years later, it resembled a war zone! It reminds me of places I have seen on TV like Beirut and other bombed out locations. I mumbled to myself, “This is not good.”
Shortly after stopping I swear I heard gunshots ring out and people yelling in the distance. A few moments later the night erupted in police lights and sirens as they sped down the road running parallel to the highway. I could not see what was going on in the housing complex nearby by the police vehicles had stopped there with their ominous blue lights lighting up the surrounding buildings. At that point I just wanted to be anywhere but stuck there on the highway in this god-forsaken part of New Orleans.
I reached for my phone to call Sharon and tell her what was going on and was met with no power. My phone was dead. Oh god what do I do now. I stayed calm and remembered that this coach had an inverter so I could plug my phone in. I found the switch to turn the inverter on and to my relief my phone started charging. I turned it on and called Sharon but I downplayed the severity of the situation so she would not be too worried. I then called the couple from whom I bought the coach from. Surely this is not my responsibility as obviously they sold me a defective coach. I just hoped they did not do so knowingly.
On the phone they told me they had roadside assistance threw their insurance and would call right away. In addition they were coming out because they would have to be there when the tow truck arrived to show them their insurance card. I was relieved. But what would happen after that? How was I going to get home? And was I stuck with this broken coach?
They also told me to try and move the coach off the highway if I could. So I went to start it and the battery was dead. I remembered that on motor homes there was an emergency start that ran from another battery in the back. It did start using that battery. I began to limp slowly down the highway for about 100 yards when “BOOM”!! The coach then stopped in its tracks. Something really bad happened now I thought to myself.
I had to call them again and tell them what happened now and where I was. They didnt answer the phone this time. I called agin, same thing, no answer. The already growing sickness in my stomach reached a point to where I thought I was surely going to throw up. Finally, with this instance, the third time was a charm and she answered, “hola”. She told me they were still at home but getting ready to head out and that the tow service was en route.
It was around 11:30 when they got to me. It was getting really cold. There was no propane to run the generator in the coach to get heat. I felt like such an idiot for getting myself into this situation.
The tow truck was scheduled to arrive in 15 minutes. So I waited with them in their vehicle. This is where I got to know more about them. Being monday, she commented on how she hates mondays. She went on to tell me they just had to put their dog to sleep this past monday. I felt so bad for them. He was optimistic that it was a minor problem, but I knew better, but was not about to disclose my thoughts. I did not want to burst his bubble as they were already down.
She had recently lost her job and his work in construction had fallen off sharply they told me. They asked if the job situation was any better in Pensacola as they are looking to move somewhere else where the future is brighter. They were ready to leave the despair that was all around them in New Orleans. I also learned they had bought the coach just 2 years ago for twice as much as I just paid and that they only did one trip with it and that was bringing it back from Houston where they purchased it. They had dreams of traveling the U.S. in it, but hard economic times made that impossible.
The tow truck arrived almost and hour late at about 12:30. However it was not a large enough truck. They sent a truck the size to tow a large van at most. So he had to arrange for his dispatch to send a large truck to assist us. He delivered the bad news and informed us that the truck we needed was an hour and a half away in Mississippi. All of our spirits were crushed. I prayed this was all a bad dream and I would awake in a nice warm bed next to my family.
The owner and I, with her translating, tried to figure out what happened, and what was wrong. He too surmised it must be a fuel issue. Maybe the glow plugs were bad. “Si, the glow plugs” he said, “we will fix them in the morning and you can be on your way.” Now like I said I knew nothing of diesel engines but after doing some googling on my phone I knew it was much more serious than that. But I did not say a word.
I had not eaten dinner and the nausea in my stomach was starting to subside a little so I told them I was going to walk to the exit and get something to eat. I asked them if they wanted anything and they replied no. It was a pretty scary walk. Why did this have to be one of the rare times I was caring a fair amount of cash on me?
After walking in the driving cold wind, I made it to a gas station food store alive without being mugged and was thankful. At the store all they had that was warm was red beans and rice which was just fine for me. I grabbed them and walked back to the highway to wait with them to be rescued.
We got a call around 2:00 from the tow truck driver informing us he was just a few minutes away. I stared at the highway behind us, watching with hope and anticipation that the next set of headlights I saw would be that truck. What seemed an eternity had passed while I watched small dots of light come closer and closer through the dark only to be disappointed. “Where the hell is that damn truck?” I said aloud. Finally it came down the highway. It was a hulking vehicle, capable of towing a freight train I surmised. Very few moments in my life have been happier than this moment. The end was in sight.
While he had the coach up in the air I scanned the engine from underneath not knowing really what I was looking for, perhaps to see if oil was leaking. Then I saw it, a large hole had been punctured in the oil pan from the inside out. I googled that into my phone and the ominous answer of thrown rod came up on all the results. It is was catastrophic end to the engine.
The owner and tow truck operator came over to see what I was looking at. The operator then confirmed it, “Yep, she’s shot. That’s a thrown rod.” The owner looked rightfully distraught by the news.
It took him a long time to get it all hooked up and on our way. When we finally got back to the storage, to put the coach in the same spot it was before, it was over 6 hours later from when I had left it earlier.
But now the bigger dilemma was unfolding in my head. Where do I stay tonight? How do I get the check back from them? And how am I going to get back to Pensacola!!
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