Our Wednesday started encouragingly enough as we battened down the Buglet's hatches in preparation for the move to our next campsite up north, at Grand Isle State Park. It would be a hot day, but we'd mostly be driving, so we armed ourselves with sunglasses and bottled water for the trek. Once again we ascended the scrambly roads, rolling past trees and pastureland and farms, adjusting our car visors against the rising sun. And then...
Coming to a red light halfway up a mountain highway (it's Vermont!), we noticed a strong smell and turned to one another wrinkling our noses and saying, "Oh, that isn't us." The light turned and we continued up the hill, until David suddenly exclaimed, "Our tire's on fire!" Sure enough, a peek into the side-view mirror showed smoke billowing from beneath the Airstream's right side. We pulled off the road, and Dave's initial thought was that the brakes were smoking. We determined we'd need a tow, so pulled out our Good Sam Roadside Emergency card and called (actually had phone service, yay!), asking for help finding one in this quiet stretch of Vermont. They were having trouble finding anyone to come, so Dave disconnected the Buglet's brakes, assuming that he could simply haul it to our destination near the city of Burlington, from where we could seek out tows and mechanics. About two miles later, another check of the mirror showed the tire was still smoking, so it was determined we really could not go any further.
We were on an exposed, traffic-busy hilltop; the Airstream was immobile, and our car thermometer was now registering 127 degrees - HOT AS HELL. More phone calls to Good Sam, along with some independent googling in search of anyone who could give us assistance. After about an hour, we were given reference to a "roadside mechanic" who could come check things out, so we gingerly (oh God don't let the wheel fall off) pulled ahead to a nearby Chevy dealer at the very top of the hill, and made arrangements for the Buglet to undergo roadside surgery, the Chevy parking lot serving as the O.R. (Our most sincere thanks to the Fair Haven, VT, Chevy dealers!)
The mechanic had an hour drive to get to us, so we had a total of almost five hours of waiting and then watching the repair, on that blacktop blast-furnace hilltop. If we must be grateful for anything, it's that there was a small supermarket and a Subway shop within a short walk, allowing us an hour of air-conditioned lunch and an opportunity for the purchase of cold drinks. There was only one tree on this hilltop (and in Vermont!), and Jacquie, having a bout of heat stroke, lay for awhile beneath it trying to cool down.
Just a HARD day. One never leaves for a trek with an expectation of this kind of event happening, and it makes us feel very vulnerable. What if this had happened on that long endless road in Texas where we didn't pass another car or house for most of the day, under similar heat, and we didn't have phone service?
Traveling is risk-taking, and there are risks; we yearned for our quiet, cool home today. But as with any difficult thing, once the trouble passed, and the Airstream, although not fully repaired, was road-ready, we began to calm and cool ourselves, remembering quickly why we continue seeking these vistas. Look! David said as we wearily resumed our motoring toward Grand Isle, at that huge flock of Canadian geese in the sky!
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