Backstory: When I was 18 years old, I had a Honda Civic that caught on fire while on a road trip to Chicago. It caught on fire soon after the heat gauge went from C to H, so let's just say I have some experience with that particular gauge. Anyway, as we started up our first major pass, I glanced over at the aforementioned gauge and noticed that rather than resting comfortably on C, it was bouncing around midway towards H. At the same time, the van was barely able to keep 45 km/hour. Not wanting to be engulfed in a ball of flame (the diesel engine of the van was just below our seats), we immediately pulled over. The telltale sign of a radiator hissing and the smoke and the steam of water hitting the engine seemed to indicate we pulled over just in time.
Maybe I'm romanticizing NZ, but I was amazed that the very first car that passed, turned around and came back down the hill to help us, without us even trying to flag anyone down. They let us use their cell phone, which miraculously had reception, and we called our rental van guy, who called a tow truck for us. The truck showed up within the hour. Thank you kind strangers!
Once back at the garage, the mechanic found that the problems with the van were pretty extensive (suspicion confirmed!), and included a busted water line and burned out turbo. The tragedy of the van indeed...
1 comment:
If it weren't for those meddling kids...
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