Poor Randy, poor Lynn and poor Edna

Friday was indeed the toughest day of the trip thus far and a real tough day for Edna, our trusty steed.  She is old, rusty and floats a bit when you drive her, and now there is some issue in the exhaust system front right...she has become loud and ticks constantly, especially when under any strain.  It was bad enough that she looked like she just left a salvage yard but now with the exhaust business going also it is not a pretty presentation coming down the street.  The Canadian Customs guy wasn't real amused and wanted to make sure we did not intend to sell Edna in Canada or even give her away in Canada.

Anyway, in an attempt to present a little more civilized, we stopped at a "Muffler and Brake" place.  Mechanic crawled under old Edna and came back with some gibberish about everything being all rusty and how hard it would be to fix the exhaust, and that supposedly he would have to take about the whole front end apart to fix it, and that parts for a 1994 van probably didn't exist in Montana but maybe he could order them from Tennessee where they just might be available, but it would be days before he could get the parts and no way could he give us any idea of cost...might take all day to fix.  Obviously I was having none of that and so we jumped in the van to leave and the brakes went out totally (coincidence) and there was this big puddle on the drive that consisted of my brake fluid.  Back under the van he went and again came up and said it really looked bad and the only place to get this brake line was Memphis; called the Memphis place and could get the part shipped if we decided to fix it within the next hour...cost was impossible to estimate because of all the rust...then the bomb shell; part would not arrive for 4 days and he was real busy and didn't know if he could get right on it on Monday when, and if, the part got there.  I don't know much about brake lines but don't they make them up as needed and on demand right in the shop?

So now what?  Lynn and I went in the waiting room of the place and got on line looking for something to buy...that was big enough to load all the crap I had brought with us.  It seemed the only thing that would work would be something like a Suburban.  Well we found this 2004 Suburban and some car dealer in Great Falls, Montana, about a hundred miles away and got this guy to accept $8,800.00 for it and he got Edna.  We were both thinking this would be great as it was 10 years newer, had 40,000 less miles and the brakes worked...and we could probably sell it when it got back to Grayling.  Small issue or two; 100 miles to
Great Falls, it was Friday evening and no banks were open, and the dealer wasn't having anything to do with our personal check or credit card.

While we are doing this discussing the mechanic comes in as said he just might be able to do some "barn yard mechaniching" and build a line that might work; go figure.  He wasn't going to make any promises but he would give it a try. So we sat for an hour and in he pops with this rusted out line and announces he has successfully extended the life of Edna. $200.00.  So I'm thinking we, are good to go but I, in my exuberance to make the best out of the situation, had sold Lynn on the idea of buying a Suburban, and now she will have none of keeping this unsafe van and driving it through the mountains at Glacier Park.  The only reason we don't own a Suburban this very day is because we could not find a way to pay the car dealer until Monday and we didn't want to sit around for three days.  So we are now in Alberta, on our way to Alaska.


Lynn:
Well, Randy glossed over a couple of things.  Like the fact that we did not know where we were going to stay again.  Ended up in Cut Bank, Mt.  Found an RV park that was full, but the owner (who happens to be from Fife Lake) found us a spot that wasn't really a spot.  It was high and exposed to the wind.  All went well until 2:30 a.m. when I woke up, and upon exiting the van to make my way to the bathrooms, I found the wind had whipped up and was threatening to blow away our tent.  I actually tried and succeeded in securing two corners of the tent roof, but then I tried to stake them down by myself, without bothering Randy, who needed his sleep so as not to kill us in the van in Glacier National Park.  Not gonna happen. So I woke him up, and by then the wind was a gale.  The tent walls and roof were flapping all over the place and acting like sails.  The temp had dropped to about 50 degrees; I was in a T-shirt and flip flops and then--it started to rain.  I give myself a lot of credit for not starting to cry, or curse at Randy.  Somehow, together, we managed to salvage the tent and wad up all the pieces and throw them in the front seat of the van, leaving our boxes of stuff to the mercy of the elements.