14 January 2014

Stranded in the Great White North

This was how our last Saturday went. Sadly, ours is the white truck.

This is a testament of how wonderful our Canadian friends are. We broke down in North Vancouver, while getting on the #1 highway.  (basically on the way to Whistler, where the Winter Olympics were held)

Luckily (?) We were following a friend so we weren't totally hooped. ("screwed" in Canadianese) The conversation on the phone went like this:
"How much further?"
"Did you just gak your truck?"
"Piece of..."
"Well, your brake lights are out so zip it."

We pulled off of the highway to assess the damage. This is where I say that our friend has bronchitis so he's leaning heavily on the truck at any given moment, trying to catch his breath.  Because SIDE OF HIGHWAY 1, I didn't get out.  Every once in a while, one of the boys would look at me and nod encouragingly even though I knew it was a total lie.

Eventually, we towed our truck with the truck (with no brake lights) which is ILLEGAL in Canada off of the highway and onto a Dept of Transportation turn-off.  Then we rode in our friends truck to the machine shop (our original destination)

Oh, not before transferring a 200 lb. engine block from the broken truck to our friends truck. Difficulty Level 3000

Our other friend showed up with his truck and trailer to rescue us.  The plan was to take us to the border, where Kevin's dad would meet us with our truck and trailer.  "Where did you leave the truck?" he asked.
 "On top of the tunnel" our friend replies.
Yes, on top of the tunnel.  The day kept getting stranger.

This is also where I mention that our friend brought an acquaintance with him that we aren't particularly fond of.  Not enough fun was being had, clearly.  The clearest description I can give you is a chatty, Canadian, Howard Wolowitz.

We finally headed home, or the border as it were.   We were on the road about fifteen minutes when our friend offered to take us all the way home (30+ minutes south of the border) so that Kevin's dad didn't have to come rescue us and we weren't stranded at the border.  SO NICE.

Even the border guard was sympathetic to our plight.  He even complimented our friends for being so wonderful. I know, right?

The trip was actually pleasant, even with Howard Wolowitz riding shotgun.  (he offered to ride in back with me...Kevin plainly told him NO.)

We were about fifteen minutes from home when our friend asked how far further our mechanic shop was.  We said about thirty minutes south of our house.  "Well, I was thinking, I'll just take you there and then it's just done."

Kevin and I were stunned silent for a minute.  He had given up most of his day to help us and now was even volunteering to do more.  In such an unlucky circumstance: how lucky are we?

Gosh, I love our Canadian friends.  When I posted later on the facebook, another one of our friends replied wondering why we hadn't phoned him.  He was truthfully next on our list if our original plan didn't work out.

There's always a shiny side, a person just sometimes has to squint to see it.

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