Flying Days and Broken Cars

Last weekend Jess and I went to visit Smalls in California. It was a semi-planned but never planned out trip that was delightful and slightly disturbing all at once. We set off Friday morning in my car, feeling pretty good about the day and determined to make the most of it.
(sidenote: Liz, I wanted to stop sometime in Cedar and see you; I even wondered if we could leave Thursday night and stay with you. But I'd been working like mad to get done by Friday and didn't know how Jess would feel about it, so we didn't. then I really wanted to stop on our way back, but again, long drive, Jessers...tell me ya understand!!)
Okay anyhoo, it was nice. We drove, Jess crocheted and did homework, I thought about stuff...we took about an hour detour for lunch cause we thought Cafe Rio sounded good but got a little lost looking for the one in St. George. But we decided to just enjoy the ride and not worry about getting to Smalls. hmm..

Jess really likes palm trees.

Anyway, on we went, until I saw a sign that said Vegas was close...I couldn't remember how close, but close enough that I was excited about this milestone we were about to pass. We drove on a bit and then-we couldn't drive anymore. My car just stopped accelerating, just like it did on my way home from Yakima. I pulled over and turned off the car, then tried to restart it, a trick that has always worked in the past.

It didn't work.

So there we were, dead on the side of the freeway in the middle of the desert, in 107 degree weather. This was concerning. Jess said not to worry, she has roadside assistance so we called them seeking help, and they gave us nothing but anger, frustration, and an extra hour sitting on the side of the road in the desert. the incompetence of those people is hard for me even to grasp. A kindly stranger from Mississippi stopped to offer us advice during this hour long duration of pointlessness, and we decided he was very friendly. Then, after learning that, supposing these failures at assistance could ever determine our location and get a tow truck to us, we'd have to pay for towing anyway, I decided to give the ol' suckwinkle one more try to redeem himself. and what do you know-he started! So we drove into Vegas ourselves and got to a mechanic.

3 and a half hours later, $550 poorer but with a new fuel pump, we hit the road again, about an hour after we had anticipated landing in California. It was a bitter night. But Smalls and fam were so helpful and wonderful and seeing them made it all worth while. And we did have some fun while we waited.

Jess drew a lovely interpretation of my idea for a tattoo, so I could see how it looked. We ate our Cafe Rio leftovers, did homework, chatted, I talked to Julie which I'd been meaning to do for a long time. Julie, by the way, this is the rest of the story and hopefully I'll talk to soon since we got cut off.

Anyway, after that night things got much better. We had a great time visiting the smallcombs and especially checking out the FLUG TAG

Really phenomenal. there were 34 teams, each of which had costumes,

skits, and some sort of aircraft that they would launch off the pier and measure how far it "flew." Of the twenty we saw, 50 ft was the farthest, although the record is something like 207. We also saw a famous skater skateboard off the pier, and parachute guys flip around in the air and then land right on the pier; pretty impressive.

Some of my favorites. They did the dance from the three amigos and it was fantastic. Ah Flugtag, what a day.

We also went to the beach, just to walk around.

Well, among other things. All in all, a ton of fun but way too short. and maybe not cheaper than flying when your  car breaks down :( But its been running alright ever since, so that's good. I was just glad to get back to my scooter!