I went over to look at the tire and began to laugh. It wasn’t just = flat… it was SHREDDED, big hunks of rubber and steel threads everywhere and zero tire = pressure. I got back in the van to put the flat fixer away and grab my = jack and my one tire chock. It was pretty brisk outside so I decided to change.

My heater isn’t working so I = came prepared. I put on a pair of long underwear, two pair of socks, and a scuba wetsuit (excellent insulation for extended periods of cold weather). My = sheepskin flying cap rounds out the ridiculous (but warm) outfit.

I got out and chocked the driver’s side front tire and as I stood up I = saw a police cruiser. I gave him a wave, he waved back but kept driving… = hopefully he’s coming back I thought. I set the jack in the jack point then decided to = heed Mother Nature’s call before I got started and my hands were dirty. = You know where this is going of course…. “mid stream” the = police cruiser shows up. I shrug off the embarrassment and tell him what is going on.

He sets out some flares just behind = my triangles, turns the cherries on, and pulls in 20’ or so behind = the van, closer to the road so that people will have to go around him. As I work we have = a great conversation. We’re both around 32 years old. He’s a car = collector and has about 10 cars mostly classic 1970’s American vehicles. He also told me a = story about he was driving in his friend’s diesel Vanagon and got passed by a = school bus. From then on he referred to every mini van, VW or otherwise, as a = Vanagon. In his entire career on the force he had never pulled one over before, no = doubt because it is pretty hard to speed.

I got the spare on and was tightening = the last wheel nut when the van shifted forward, he quickly cranked her down = while I tried to hold the van with my lug wrench. We got the van down without = further incident and I topped up the new tire with my compressor before setting = out. The officer was impressed by the collection of tools I had.

So off I go again, the sun is setting = and my gas gauge is getting low, but I’ve only gone 220 miles or so, so I = can’t be empty right? I pull off the highway anyway into a “Pilot” = truck stop, 100 yards from the entrance I run out of gas, its an uphill slope however so there = is no pushing possible. The staff are really nice though and rather than make = me buy a can the lend me one that I can walk back to the van. I put in 5 gallons = then pull in to top her off. She takes a bit more than 10 more gallons. In = the pilot store I find one of those tiny electric heaters and a 4-connection = cigarette lighter adapter, $50 US later I buy both.

I decide that I should heat up the = cabin with the stove before I get going, so I go under the van to turn on the = propane. I see a puddle of gasoline underneath and gas dripping from the belly = tray… so much for turning on an open flame. I decide that I can’t take the = time to plug the leak, it has to be from the top of the tank so I’ll just have = to fill up more often. I set off again with my seat heater and newly purchased = electric heater plugged into the cigarette lighter adapter. 100 miles from the = store a fuse blows (damn no extras in my spares kit), I loose both heaters and = the adapter pug melts in the lighter socket. I’m still 230 miles (a = lot of which is through the Appalachians – high elevation) from home and it is now = dark.

I think about the $50 in now unusable heating devices and can’t = stand the idea of spending another $50 on a motel. I decide to keep going. I top off the = tank off every 100 miles or so and go inside to warm up every time. I cook my = shoes under the electric hand dryers in the restroom so they’ll retain heat. = 5:00 am (4:00 am with the time change) I make it home, 14 hours for a 10-hour drive.