I'm home! I'm home! I can't begin to tell you how happy I am to be home again. Not that I had a bad time in Alabama, but the trip back was so horrendous that the sight of the Disney Channel building very, very early Tuesday morning filled me with inexplicable happiness. See, it's only a few minutes from my home.

I haven't quite decided how I'm going to recount my vacation exploits. I may post a full account of my trip or just write a bunch of different entries about various aspects. I'm still mulling it over.

I do have to address a major source of frustration. The reason why the return trip was so very bad. Auto mechanics. Now, I'm sure there are a few mechanics in this great country of ours who are good, upstanding individuals. Ones who would never dream of reaming innocent travelers or doing a shoddy repair job. Too bad we didn't encounter any.

Ya see, my parents and I drove to and from Gulf Shores, AL in an '86 Dodge Caravan with a newly rebuilt Mitsubishi engine. And it drove about 2,125 miles with no problem. But on Friday, 7/30, the first day of the return trip, the power steering gave out in Scott, LA. We pulled off the interstate into a gas station. Dad looked at the engine and ascertained that the bolts which held the power steering belt to the engine block were not locked down tightly, so they disappeared on the freeway, along with the belt. Knowing what the problem is doesn't help when you can't actually fix it. Luckily there was a mechanic's shop at the exit we took. Not so luckily he was out on another call. So Mom, Dad, Sandy (Mom's long-haired chihuaha) and I waited for a couple of hours for the mechanic to show up. The people in the office called around to a few different places to see if we could be helped faster (Wal-Mart, Pep Boys), but they either didn't have the belt needed or were closing up for the night.

Mechanic Tim finally showed up and got right to work, replacing the belt and bolts and getting us on the road within an hour or so. The cost was less than $200. Yea! We made it to Beaumont, TX that night and got about 5-6 hours of sleep.

With Dad back behind the wheel, we continued on our merry way, until the air conditioner died a couple of hours later. Trust me, driving in East Texas in the height of the summer with no A/C is unbearable. Off the interstate and at a gas station again, Dad popped open the hood. Lo and behold, two belts which ran the alternator and A/C had disappeared. Hmmm, maybe that was that thump I felt under the floorboards as the belt escaped the poor engine.

We were directed to a shop down the road which had the belts we needed, but not the mechanic. He was about 2 miles down the road. We drove down there, but Mechanic Rusty wasn't there. He would be "right back". And he was, about half an hour later. Whoops, turns out the power steering belt Tim had put on was old and worn, but Dad was charged for a new one. Oh, this trip is just getting better. Unfortunately, Rusty didn't have the third belt we needed and couldn't get one until the other guys came back from another call. Around 40 minutes later they were back. Rusty took his sweet time going to get the third belt (he had to finish a repair he had started on another car), but once he did he finished our repair fairly quickly. I think that repair was around $150. We got as far as Fort Stockton, TX that night. However, the power steering was sounding awfully creaky. Oh gee, Rusty didn't adjust the belt correctly.

Next day, in El Paso,TX, we looked for a place that would do the adjustment, and prayed something would be open on a Sunday afternoon. Pep Boys was open, but very busy and couldn't even glance in our general direction for a couple of hours. Super K-Mart had open bays and guys sitting around, smoking and shooting the breeze, but no one could look at the engine for at least an hour. Next to Super K-Mart was a little hole in the wall shop with a couple of guys who instantly jumped up, adjusted the belt, and charged Dad only $10. Hey, things were starting to look up. We arrived in Tucson, AZ that evening and visited with my best friend Jenn and her hubby Scott at their lovely new home. They invited us to stay the night, with the 'rents in the guest room and me on the futon. Mom and Dad insisted on getting a motel room, so I wouldn't end up sleeping on the futon, what with my bad neck and all. It was great seeing them again, and my folks enjoyed getting to know Scott better, and we thought, hey, maybe this ain't so bad after all.

Ha. That'll teach us to be optimistic. Back on the interstate by 11am on Monday, we drove for 1 1/2 hours, then stopped off in west Phoenix for a bathroom break, plus water and ice purchases. Accelerating on the on-ramp, the van stalled. But we weren't worried, since we knew that restarting the engine and gunning the gas would get us going again (it had happened a couple of times before). Guess what? We lost the A/C again. In Phoenix. In the summer. During the hottest part of the day. Not good. Time to leave the freeway again and find out what the hell happened this time.

Well, well, well. One of the two brand new belts that run the A/C and the alternator snapped, left behind on that on-ramp. Leaving one belt to do the job of two. *sigh* Off to hunt down another mechanic, we found a shop, but they couldn't look at our van for a couple of hours. They directed us to another place and as Dad started up the van, we heard a horrible grinding and smelled rubber burning as smoke poured from the hood. It was just the remaining belt snapping, that's all. We made our way to the second shop that day, but Mechanic Mike "stepped out and should be right back". Half an hour later he showed up and would get to us "in just a moment".

I took Sandy for a quick walk, trying to find a patch of grass for him to relieve himself, which is next to impossible in Arizona. I finally found one across the busy road, but there was a trench separating it from the sidewalk. I found a way around, and encouraged Sandy to do his duty, when I heard Dad call my name. I picked up Sandy and ran across the road. (A word of advice: don't run in Phoenix during the hottest part of a summer day, especially if you're tired, cranky and unaccustomed to physical exertion.) Dad called around and found a place that could take us immediately, so off we went.

The latest mechanic (a larger shop than some of the others we'd seen) got to our van within 20 minutes and let us know that the compressor for the A/C had seized up and was frozen. The "brand new" compressor that was less than two weeks old. That's why we lost Belt #1, it just slipped off. Mr. Mechanic (didn't get his name) said that he could replace both belts with a single shorter, stronger belt that could run the alternator, but we'd have no air conditioning. Since we didn't have much choice in the matter, we told him to go ahead. Which he did. It cost Dad another $150 (or so) and me and Mom what little sanity and patience was left. Please, we prayed, let us get home!

We finally got into the general L.A. area around 12:30am, with no further mechanical problems. (The four freeway closures we encountered between Upland and Pasadena on the 10 and 210 are another matter.) I was tucked into my apartment, greeting my boys by 2-2:30am. My folks took the van to Mechanic #1, the guy who supposedly rebuilt the engine, and told him to fix it right (the engine has a 30 month warranty). We'll see what happens.

G-d, I hate mechanics.

On an up note, when I walked into work today, everyone was so happy to see me back safe and sound that I was heralded with "She's back! Our Desert Rose has returned!" (I had called my bosses on Monday to let them know about the van's problems and that I might have to take an extra day, which I did and desparately needed.) One co-worker, Chris, told me that he felt so bereft with me gone that he sat in my chair a few times. Knowing what a joker he is, I looked at him with a bit of skepticism, but Co-Worker Patti informed me that he wasn't joking. It's so nice to be missed.

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