Stop, Go

Well, I'm sorry its been a while, I guess we fell off the blog wagon when we broke down and life got a little crazy...but we're back! We made it out of Utah, through cold Idaho, west through Oregon, and we were so close to Portland and the coast when the Wander Bus came to a sudden and decisive halt. The engine died and would not start again. It happened at a four way stop in little Hood River. Justin jumped out and opened up the hood, I grabbed him the toolbox and rummaged for the number for roadside assistance. A passerby helped out by getting in the road to direct traffic because a long line had formed behind us; drivers just didn't want to believe our hazard lights meant they needed to go around us and some didn't even want to obey our impromptu director. Maybe his landscaper's attire created some doubt. Anyway, Justin had his head in the engine in an instant, replacing one of the fuel filters, and soon diesel had spray coated him and a 3 foot radius, but to no avail. The cops came and were anxious to get our vehicle out of the street. The tow truck finally arrived, and Justin was working on the engine until the moment they hooked up the vehicle. We were towed to a shop at the edge of Portland where Justin and the intake staff worked on the bus until past 10 pm. They also informed us that they would not be able to work on the vehicle, there had been some miscommunication and we shouldn't have been towed there in the first place, we needed to go to an International repair shop for an International engine. So we slept in the bus in the parking lot and in the morning we got towed again. The silver lining is that the repair shop had a clean, hot shower for stranded people like us, and it felt for a moment like being in a hotel. We do have a sun shower, but we hadn't had sun or the necessary seclusion.

The International shop had said that they would look at if not start work on the vehicle that same day, but instead it took them five days to even look at the bus. FIVE DAYS! It was in a seedy area in the outskirts of Portland, which happened to be quite rainy and cold. I like Portland fine, minus the rain, but Justin was bothered by all the street punks. One thing that's great about Portland is how bike-friendly it is, with bike lanes, bike routes and riverside bike paths. Sustainability is big, and the kayak outfitters we met with were stoked about the bamboo paddles. We also liked how the city breaks up into small neighborhoods, with clusters of independent coffee shops, cafes and bars. We were thankful to stay with Joe and Casey during this time, but they had a lot going on and we eventually stayed in the bus by sneaking into the repair warehouse at night, where mechanics worked until midnight and started again at 6 am. Our repair bill was huge (a friend said "I thought you meant that amount minus a zero") and once we dried our eyes we were on our way north to Seattle.

Come on....just 60 more miles

I am no stranger to tow trucks and breaking down. All of my vehicles have been at least ten years old, and my oldest is 29. I have ceased to get anxious at the sound of cop cars, because all of my experience with police has been positive. Sirens are more of a welcoming sound, it lets me know that crazy drivers are going to keep their urges at bay.

This is the first time however that the bus has broken down. My big question was why. As soon as the big engine groaned to a stop I had already put the wheels into work to get her running, but the big question was, is it even possible? I hurriedly put on my work cloths and had Amanda pull out the tool box. She pulled out her phone and started dialing for tow assistance. I rushed to get out the new diesel fuel filter. Diesel sprayed everywhere, covering me and the engine with oily goo. Fifteen minutes later I was back in the cab trying to breath life back into the engine, but still no luck. The police were hurrying along the process as much as possible, and informed us that a tow was imminent if Good Sams Club was unable to find a tow truck driver.

I kept working away hoping that I would run into luck and not have the large and expensive vehicle towed and worked on. I was wondering to myself if the cold weather had somehow caused the grease to congeal leaving the lines like a fast food victims arteries. No way I would find out now on this hill where the bus was broken down. The Fall day was at least a pleasant temperature a easy to be outside working on a steel vehicle.

After a 45 minute ordeal, the truck came. Doug our driver was a kind soul, and very helpful. We got the truck loaded and headed off to the Cummings diesel repair shop in Portland Maine. Once the truck was unloaded the shop foreman realized that they couldn't do anything for us because we needed to go to the international dealer. This may have been an error on my part, since the engine we had was not a Cummings, but rather a International DT466, the workhorse of many vehicle that help keep our country running on petroleum.

The next morning another tow truck came and towed us to our next repair shop. Five days later our RV is still broken and the shop still does not know when they will look at it. I would highly recommend not going to the Brattain International Dealer in Portland Oregon. It is horrid to be stuck anywhere, but even more so when the repair shop keeps telling you it will get looked at, and they are down several guys. Who hasn't hear that story before. The only thing worse would be the news that the vehicle work cost about as much to fix as it was worth.