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When Your Car Breaks Down in the Middle of Columbia 😦

When Your Car Breaks Down in the Middle of Columbia 😦

July 2018 · 7 min read

I guess it was quite fitting that our minivan from British Columbia broke down in Columbia, right? ...Columbia, Missouri that is!

 
Last Summer, Ben and I took a rather long drive across Canada. We drove all the way from British Columbia on the West coast, to Nova Scotia on the East. All in a minivan that cost us $1,000. Brave explorers or careless fools? I like to think a bit of both. We visited so many incredible places along the way. Money was tight but we had enough stories to last a lifetime.

When it was time for us to exit Canada, we crossed the border into Maine, America. We spent the next couple of months checking out the incredible Fall colours of New England and New York City. After that, we were on a mission to reach Denver, Colorado, to visit friends.

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Our car troubles all started when the temperature started to drop. It was early December and we were expecting snow. We hadn't come across any yet, and for that, we were grateful.

We spent the night in the small town of Marion, Illinois. When we went to leave the next morning, there was ice all over the car. I had this horrible feeling that it wouldn't start. After a bit of an unusual squeal, it clicked over and we were on our way.

We crossed the border into Missouri and that's when things went sour. We filled up on gas and jumped back on the highway. Then the engine started to rev really high. We couldn't go any faster than 50kms an hour. We hung out in the right lane, praying to the heavens that it wouldn't get worse.

It got worse. It was clear that we would either have to stop, or use the backroads.

In a determined (and desperate) state of mind, we opted for the backroads, and managed to make it to a mechanic. It was in a very small town, about 40kms out of the nearest major city. He took it for a drive, while we waited and hoped that he hadn't just driven off with literally all of our belongings. After a minute or two, he was back. He confirmed our worst fears. The transmission was failing. He suggested we continue driving to Columbia, Missouri to a transmission specialist. Even at a snail's pace, he was sure we'd make it before they closed. We were thankful for his suggestion and continued on our way.

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We finally made it to the transmission place, where we were basically told that we were screwed. The cost of a new transmission was going to set us back $2,500. Considering we had only paid $1,000 for the car, we said thanks but no thanks. He then tried to persuade us to buy one of the minivans he had for sale. With neither of us being US residents, we were unable to buy a replacement vehicle, legally. We thanked him for his time and he pointed us in the direction of suitable accommodation for the night. Apparently the hotel next to his business was rife with homosexual activity. LOL! OK mate.

The place we ended up staying at was a dump. $80 a night bought us stains on the bed, a nice view of drug deals in the carpark and this splendid dish for breakfast.

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The next day, after an in depth discussion, and a few tears, we decided to give up on the car. The stress of being on the road for almost 6 months was really starting to get to me. We had no extra cash, no cheap accommodation, and now, no transport. With a car full of stuff, we had no other option than to hire a $600 minivan for 2 days. It was extortion! The one way fee was the killer, but hey, at least we could make it to Denver safely. Thank you credit card.

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Now, back to our shitbox. We didn't want to just dump her in America, but we also couldn't keep driving her in the hope that she wouldn't die. She was cooked and it was time to lay her to rest. We looked up wreckers in the area. There was one quite a way out of town, but we decided it was our best bet. We didn't want any cash for the car, we just wanted to dump it, without any consequences.

After picking up our luxurious new car, and driving out to the middle of nowhere, we arrived at the wreckers. They were shut. There was a number to call so, while Ben dialled, I started to switch our belongings into the new car. The owner of the wrecker answered, and said he'd be happy to take it off our hands, and that he would be there shortly. We continued to unpack our car and Tetris pack the rental. Soon after, the owner and his mate arrived. We explained the situation, and he offered us $200 USD for it. We were stoked!

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Then, all of a sudden, something deep within my gut, told me that something wasn't right. I had just caught the guy scan my entire body up and down, and I immediately felt uncomfortable.

A sense of panic rushed over me and my mind started to race. My stomach was in knots and I felt like something was really up.

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I felt like the biggest idiot for putting myself in this situation. We had just driven out to the middle of the bush, with no idea who or what we were dealing with, in a desperate state. Ben was still recovering from a broken leg and slow on his feet, and now here we were with a couple of creeps. Why did we have to come to this place?

While Ben negotiated the deal, I continued to pack. I placed things strategically, in case I needed to defend myself. There was a lot of bush behind me so I constantly kept scanning for his buddy, who had now disappeared somewhere.

I can honestly say that I've never felt so on edge in all my life. Ben signed over the car to old mate, and we continued to pack. I kept insisting that we hurry. I just kept saying I don't feel right. That guy is making me uncomfortable. Ben of course was oblivious to the whole thing and he couldn't understand what my problem was. Plus he's painfully methodical when it comes to packing. To be carelessly shoving things into the car was killing him, but he went along with it, for the most part.

The guy came back with the cash, and we GTFOutta there.

I couldn't believe we had escaped so easily. To this day, I don't know why I felt so uncomfortable. Was something bad about to happen or was I overreacting?

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As a woman, I think it's pretty normal to have these worries. Protecting yourself and having an exit plan often comes as second nature. All in preparation for something that may never happen. Maybe something terrible was about to go down, but we escaped just in time? Or maybe my mind was just playing tricks on me? Either way, I was glad to be in our fancy new car, on our way to Denver to see our friends. It cost us an arm and a leg, and a few grey hairs, but we made it. Plus Ducky, our dashboard companion, had a sweet new ride too.

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I guess there's a few lessons in there somewhere. Always have a back up plan. And some emergency funds. Hope for the best, but prepare for the worst. I can't believe I didn't factor in a breakdown. And never be afraid to listen to your gut. I'm not sure what would have happened if I had ignored those feelings. They're so easy to dismiss at times, but these days I listen to them intently. Our gut has a brain and it's wise to lend an ear sometimes.

Lots of Love,

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