Last Ride of the Plymouth Voyager
On both of our family vehicles you'll find the "Billy Blue Jay" emblem on the back window. It clashes a bit with my purple Hyundai Elantra (Prince, as I affectionately call him). It doesn't quite fit with our new red 2002 Dodge Grand Caravan mini van either, but we're very happy with that new addition to our family. How we came to purchase the mini van is a long story.
Our old van was a 1994 green and gray Plymouth Voyager. If you drive or have shopped for mini vans these days you notice they have just about everything. Ours had nothing. And no I'm not embarrassed to talk about my knowledge of mini-vans. I've come to accept the fact that I'll be owning a mini-van of some sort for at least the next 15 years. Kinda like I'm at peace with the fact that the Dixie Chicks are in our CD collection. (Thanks to my lovely wife).
We never nicknamed our old van probably because we didn't like it very much. It had one door that opened. Getting it shut was a crap shoot. One Christmas road trip to Colorado at a gas station in Western Nebraska with the temp of minus 5 degrees, the door was jammed in a wide open position. In desperation I kicked it a few times and it miraculously closed on about the fifth kick. It made a grinding sound every time you turned a corner that made you think the wheels were going to fall right off the axels. Radio? Non functioning. DVD player? Please. We had a fat little portable TV we had to wedge in between the driver and co-pilot seats. If you were driving the speakers blared directly into your right ear. Driving 8 + hours to Colorado with various Disney movies wailing away on your inner ear drum makes daddy a wee bit testy by the end of the trip. The car also had a nice soaked in urine smell from several potty accidents over the past few years. Numerous Glade air fresheners just gave it an evergreen-new car-vanilla-lemony urine smell. But the car was paid for so we vowed to drive it until it died.
Actually, I was ok with the car because I didn't have to drive it everyday. My poor wife had to put up with it. And she hated that car like the ugly step child mini van that it was. I would catch her saying a little prayer asking God to take the car from us. I'm pretty sure she said that prayer every day. But you need to be careful for what you wish for. God has a wicked sense of humor.
Our wish came true on a return trip from visiting my sister and husband in Iowa. A couple days prior to our trip we notice a new pool of some type of fluid on the garage floor beneath the fan. This was nothing new. We always has some type of fluid beneath the van. So we didn't think much of it and ignored it (turns out they don't recommend that in the manual.) We loaded up the whole family and drove to Iowa. The trip was uneventful. As we were leaving to return back home my dad saw the pool of liquid beneath the van and said, "You better get that looked at." I didn't think twice about it and gave the obligatory, "Oh yea, we'll get right on that" response you give when your dad gives you car advice. I paid little notice to the gentle rain drops that began to fall as we pulled out of my sister's driveway.
The drive home started well. About an hour out I smelled the familiar odor of dirty pants. Luckily it was coming from the kid with a diaper and not from the trousers of one of the other ones. The gentle rain had now turned into a steady downpour. So much so that we had to slow down to see. At approximately 9:37 PM near Shelby, Iowa I accelerated to pass a car when the pedal responded with a "Whooooosh". That's odd I thought. I gave the gas another pump and "whooosh". Nothing. The little warning lights in my brain started to go off. "Oh Uh." The little warning lights in my wife's brain started going off. "What?" I instantly thought back to all the awful prayers she had said against our poor little mini van. "What did you do?", I asked her in a panicked voice. "What did you do? You cursed the van! You cursed the van and now it's dying on us!!" I tried to move the car in and out of neutral but I had nothing. We were coasting downhill and losing speed. Then the light bulb went on in my mechanically challenged brain...ahhhhh! Pooling liquid in the garage? Must have been transmission fluid! I was proud of myself for the diagnosis until my wife snapped me back to reality with a panicked "What's wrong with the van???"
We pulled off to the side of the Interstate. The rain somehow was coming down harder. I checked one last time to confirm that the transmission was done. We were definitely stuck on I-80 in a pouring rain storm. My mind replayed every horror movie I'd ever seen where the stranded family get's wiped out on the side of the road. Happy thoughts. Happy thoughts. Fortunately the kids had not noticed we stopped. They were glued to the fat little TV set blaring an Elmo video into my right inner ear. "What do we do now?" my wife asked. Cell phone! And we've got coverage! Halleluiah! Since this had never happened to me before I had no bleepin idea what we were supposed to do. "How about we call information?" I answered in the most unconvincing voice I could muster. Information led to the Iowa State Patrol. I had to turn down Elmo so I could hear the dispatcher. They asked where we were. For the first time I looked around and noticed that we were luckily about 50 yards from an off ramp and close to a road sign that told us we where 5 miles from Shelby, IA. They gave us the name of a near by tow truck company. I asked them if the State Patrol could give a ride to a family of 5. You know, cause it was pouring rain and there were probably at least 3 or 4 ax murders laying in wait in the ditch. They told me to wait for the tow truck company and that I'd seen to many horror movies.
By now the stench of the dirty diaper was a flown blown level 5. The kids had broken free from their TV coma and noticed we were stopped. The barrage of questions began. "Hey dad why are we stopped? Is the car dead dad? I told mom to not pray for that but she didn't listen. Man, it stinks in here!!! I'm hungry! Do we have any snacks back here? Wow look at it rain! Are we going to have to live here in the van? I bet the rain is going to wash us right off the road! That would be sweet!!! " I couldn't focus with the non stop questions. "All right quiet! I need to talk on the phone. Here, eat these fruit chew snacks." I knew that would only buy me about 5 minutes of peace so I quickly got the tow truck company on the phone and they told me they were sending a truck to us. Thank you Mr. John J. Plymouth! Were were in business. I took a look out the window and saw that we were actually only about a mile away from a gas station off the exit. I could swim up to the station and see if they were open. But we needed a plan on what to do after the tow truck came.
I threw another round of fruit chew snacks back to the savages as my wife dropped the stinky diaper bomb outside. The air was getting very stale. Then I did what every grown man does when he's in trouble with his car. He calls his dad to bail him out. Fortunately, my parents had arrived home and were about an hour away from us. They saved us with the offer to meet us at the gas station with another car and give us their van to take back home. Thank you again Mr. John J. Plymouth! Finally, the tow truck showed up. The tow truck man got out of the cab and walked up to the window. The rain was still coming down but I swear a little part of the clouds opened up and sliver of light shown down around his head like a halo. He took one look at the five of us, took a whiff of the musty, stale, dirty diaper air and told us to all crowd into his cab. He agreed to take us up to the gas station.
We lucked out as we pulled up to the gas station, because it was both open, and connected to an A&W. We could wait there for my parents and the tow truck angel could take the van to his shop in Shelby. We gave our hero a wave good buy and waited for my parents. The A&W workers were nice enough to put up with the kids running around the place liked wild monkeys. By that time I was spent. My parents finally showed up and saved the day. We took their car, and they drove back home with a friend who car pooled with them. The rest of the ride home was quiet with the kids passed out in the back.
The tow truck company offered to put in a new transmission. Yea right. I asked them how much they would give me for the van. They answered that since we owed them $65 for the tow, how about they take the care and we call it even? Done and done. One week later we were the proud owners of the 2002 Dodge Grand Caravan. Now my wife is happy with her new car that has a DVD player, a working stereo, TWO sliding doors that open flawlessly, and a nice new car smell. And if we notice any leak under the car we take it in immediately.
Our old van was a 1994 green and gray Plymouth Voyager. If you drive or have shopped for mini vans these days you notice they have just about everything. Ours had nothing. And no I'm not embarrassed to talk about my knowledge of mini-vans. I've come to accept the fact that I'll be owning a mini-van of some sort for at least the next 15 years. Kinda like I'm at peace with the fact that the Dixie Chicks are in our CD collection. (Thanks to my lovely wife).
We never nicknamed our old van probably because we didn't like it very much. It had one door that opened. Getting it shut was a crap shoot. One Christmas road trip to Colorado at a gas station in Western Nebraska with the temp of minus 5 degrees, the door was jammed in a wide open position. In desperation I kicked it a few times and it miraculously closed on about the fifth kick. It made a grinding sound every time you turned a corner that made you think the wheels were going to fall right off the axels. Radio? Non functioning. DVD player? Please. We had a fat little portable TV we had to wedge in between the driver and co-pilot seats. If you were driving the speakers blared directly into your right ear. Driving 8 + hours to Colorado with various Disney movies wailing away on your inner ear drum makes daddy a wee bit testy by the end of the trip. The car also had a nice soaked in urine smell from several potty accidents over the past few years. Numerous Glade air fresheners just gave it an evergreen-new car-vanilla-lemony urine smell. But the car was paid for so we vowed to drive it until it died.
Actually, I was ok with the car because I didn't have to drive it everyday. My poor wife had to put up with it. And she hated that car like the ugly step child mini van that it was. I would catch her saying a little prayer asking God to take the car from us. I'm pretty sure she said that prayer every day. But you need to be careful for what you wish for. God has a wicked sense of humor.
Our wish came true on a return trip from visiting my sister and husband in Iowa. A couple days prior to our trip we notice a new pool of some type of fluid on the garage floor beneath the fan. This was nothing new. We always has some type of fluid beneath the van. So we didn't think much of it and ignored it (turns out they don't recommend that in the manual.) We loaded up the whole family and drove to Iowa. The trip was uneventful. As we were leaving to return back home my dad saw the pool of liquid beneath the van and said, "You better get that looked at." I didn't think twice about it and gave the obligatory, "Oh yea, we'll get right on that" response you give when your dad gives you car advice. I paid little notice to the gentle rain drops that began to fall as we pulled out of my sister's driveway.
The drive home started well. About an hour out I smelled the familiar odor of dirty pants. Luckily it was coming from the kid with a diaper and not from the trousers of one of the other ones. The gentle rain had now turned into a steady downpour. So much so that we had to slow down to see. At approximately 9:37 PM near Shelby, Iowa I accelerated to pass a car when the pedal responded with a "Whooooosh". That's odd I thought. I gave the gas another pump and "whooosh". Nothing. The little warning lights in my brain started to go off. "Oh Uh." The little warning lights in my wife's brain started going off. "What?" I instantly thought back to all the awful prayers she had said against our poor little mini van. "What did you do?", I asked her in a panicked voice. "What did you do? You cursed the van! You cursed the van and now it's dying on us!!" I tried to move the car in and out of neutral but I had nothing. We were coasting downhill and losing speed. Then the light bulb went on in my mechanically challenged brain...ahhhhh! Pooling liquid in the garage? Must have been transmission fluid! I was proud of myself for the diagnosis until my wife snapped me back to reality with a panicked "What's wrong with the van???"
We pulled off to the side of the Interstate. The rain somehow was coming down harder. I checked one last time to confirm that the transmission was done. We were definitely stuck on I-80 in a pouring rain storm. My mind replayed every horror movie I'd ever seen where the stranded family get's wiped out on the side of the road. Happy thoughts. Happy thoughts. Fortunately the kids had not noticed we stopped. They were glued to the fat little TV set blaring an Elmo video into my right inner ear. "What do we do now?" my wife asked. Cell phone! And we've got coverage! Halleluiah! Since this had never happened to me before I had no bleepin idea what we were supposed to do. "How about we call information?" I answered in the most unconvincing voice I could muster. Information led to the Iowa State Patrol. I had to turn down Elmo so I could hear the dispatcher. They asked where we were. For the first time I looked around and noticed that we were luckily about 50 yards from an off ramp and close to a road sign that told us we where 5 miles from Shelby, IA. They gave us the name of a near by tow truck company. I asked them if the State Patrol could give a ride to a family of 5. You know, cause it was pouring rain and there were probably at least 3 or 4 ax murders laying in wait in the ditch. They told me to wait for the tow truck company and that I'd seen to many horror movies.
By now the stench of the dirty diaper was a flown blown level 5. The kids had broken free from their TV coma and noticed we were stopped. The barrage of questions began. "Hey dad why are we stopped? Is the car dead dad? I told mom to not pray for that but she didn't listen. Man, it stinks in here!!! I'm hungry! Do we have any snacks back here? Wow look at it rain! Are we going to have to live here in the van? I bet the rain is going to wash us right off the road! That would be sweet!!! " I couldn't focus with the non stop questions. "All right quiet! I need to talk on the phone. Here, eat these fruit chew snacks." I knew that would only buy me about 5 minutes of peace so I quickly got the tow truck company on the phone and they told me they were sending a truck to us. Thank you Mr. John J. Plymouth! Were were in business. I took a look out the window and saw that we were actually only about a mile away from a gas station off the exit. I could swim up to the station and see if they were open. But we needed a plan on what to do after the tow truck came.
I threw another round of fruit chew snacks back to the savages as my wife dropped the stinky diaper bomb outside. The air was getting very stale. Then I did what every grown man does when he's in trouble with his car. He calls his dad to bail him out. Fortunately, my parents had arrived home and were about an hour away from us. They saved us with the offer to meet us at the gas station with another car and give us their van to take back home. Thank you again Mr. John J. Plymouth! Finally, the tow truck showed up. The tow truck man got out of the cab and walked up to the window. The rain was still coming down but I swear a little part of the clouds opened up and sliver of light shown down around his head like a halo. He took one look at the five of us, took a whiff of the musty, stale, dirty diaper air and told us to all crowd into his cab. He agreed to take us up to the gas station.
We lucked out as we pulled up to the gas station, because it was both open, and connected to an A&W. We could wait there for my parents and the tow truck angel could take the van to his shop in Shelby. We gave our hero a wave good buy and waited for my parents. The A&W workers were nice enough to put up with the kids running around the place liked wild monkeys. By that time I was spent. My parents finally showed up and saved the day. We took their car, and they drove back home with a friend who car pooled with them. The rest of the ride home was quiet with the kids passed out in the back.
The tow truck company offered to put in a new transmission. Yea right. I asked them how much they would give me for the van. They answered that since we owed them $65 for the tow, how about they take the care and we call it even? Done and done. One week later we were the proud owners of the 2002 Dodge Grand Caravan. Now my wife is happy with her new car that has a DVD player, a working stereo, TWO sliding doors that open flawlessly, and a nice new car smell. And if we notice any leak under the car we take it in immediately.
posted by Hank Louis Tierney at 7:42 PM
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