The move itself went surprising well for the most part. However while driving from the city with our last load of stuff in the back of the truck, driving down our grid road, the power steering of our truck locked up and I was no longer able to turn. Great. It was 10:00pm at night, but fortunately we were literally pulling up to the gates of the yard. Had this happened even 5 minutes sooner we would have had a long walk to our new home.
The following day, (and being a ruralite and all now), I figured I’d better try to fix my ol’ truck myself. That’s whatcha do in the countryside, right? I’ve never dared to touch my vehicles before. I’ve never even given my car an oil change. I’ve changed a tire once. And I have added window washer fluid… but that’s about the extent of my car-fixin’ abilities. Still, for whatever reason, I thought I could fix this truck.
Naturally, I called my dad the next morning. “Dad, I gotta fix my truck.” I explained what happened. “Did you check the engine coolant and power steering fluid?” He asked. “I don’t know where that is,” I replied, “I know where the window washer fluid goes though.”
“Well, what about the alternator? Can you see the fan belt? How does that look?” he asked. “Um, I don’t know what those things are either.”
“Jesus Christ.” (My father is a very religious man, as you can tell).
I finally decided to just use FaceTime and show him where things were. “Tell me what to take apart, k?”, I requested.
He figured he’d better come out before I caused irreparable damage to my truck.
I felt very manly the rest of the day: denim shirt and jeans + greasy hands + a bunch of socket wrenches (metric and imperial, of course) = Badass.
Over the course of the afternoon we took apart a bunch of stuff (they probably have names) and realized that the fan belt had come off. After watching a couple of YouTube videos we figured out how to put it back on. I really hoped it would just be a simple task of putting the belt back on and Vroom, the truck would live again. Unfortunately, it was not that easy. Despite our best efforts and several hours of work, it became apparent that Wwe’d have to get it towed into town.
Now getting a tow truck all the way out here would have been a small fortune. Thankfully for us though, Darcie (so smart) had just bought us a CAA membership, which for $180 would give you five free tows and they would be available for roadside assistance whenever needed. About a week later Darcie locked the keys in the car while it was running (not so smart) and CAA came out again to jimmy the door open. Clearly the membership has paid for itself already.
As you can tell, we are settling into the reality of the countryside quite nicely already.