The Rest of the Story

As I explained in my previous post, we went to my college roommate's wedding this past weekend. On the way home, we stopped for lunch in a little town called Shaniko, OR. It's literally just a bend in the road. All the cars on the highway were whizzing past it, but we decided to stop. It was like a ghost town. We ate at THE restaurant in town. I bought some candy for the kids at one of the three tiny stores. After lunch, we explored a bit, then we got back in the van to keep heading towards home.



We stopped at Maryhill Museum early in the afternoon to take in some culture and get a break from our long drive. As we pulled into the parking lot, our van stalled. I suggested to Matt that maybe it was just overheated from climbing the huge hill with the AC on. Maybe it would be better when we finished touring the museum, I said. I don't think Matt believed me, since he knows a lot more about cars than I do, but nonetheless, we went inside the museum. When we came back to the van and hour and a half later, it had trouble starting and stalled out completely before we were able to drive out of the parking lot.

Matt called our insurance company to get the van towed. We had hoped we could get it fixed and get on the road again, but since it was late Saturday afternoon, our options were limited. We weren't sure how we were going to get home. The insurance company suggested we ride in the tow truck. When Matt explained that there were eight of us, they offered to send a taxi (or four?). We were trying to find the humor in the situation, but humor was failing us by that point.

I suggested that we call Trevor, Matt's brother, who has seven kids and owns a fifteen passenger van. Even though Trevor was two hours away, we didn't see any other viable alternatives for getting home that night. So Matt called him. Thankfully, Trevor was able to rearrange his schedule to come get us. While we waited, the tow truck came to get our van. It got towed back to OR. Not our first choice, but our choices were dwindling quickly.
The girls and I spread one of our sleeping bags on the ground and lounged while the guys played catch. Then the security guard told us that he needed to lock up the gate and we needed to leave. Matt told him our dilemma, he looked at the two big piles of stuff on the lawn and said, "Is that all yours? I'd better go talk to my boss."

Thank the Lord, while he was gone, Trevor pulled in. He got out of the van and yelled, "Who wants pretzels and licorice?!" The kids went from forlorn to happy really fast. We got our stuff loaded, ate dinner at McDonald's and headed for home. We were all so very grateful to be in our own beds that night. We took both of our Subarus to church yesterday. The van should be fixed by tomorrow. It needs a new mass air flow sensor. Whatever that is. I'll just be glad to have the big van again.

The whole affair could have been much worse than it was. We could have been driving on the highway when the van gave out. Sitting on the side of the road for three hours would not have been fun. Instead, I was grateful to God that we had a safe place to be, shade and even a port-a-potty (yes, for once in my life I was grateful for a port-a-potty--the alternative would have been much worse). We also were grateful that there was a water fountain on the grounds, as we had run out of water. Plus, we were able to get home that night, instead of having to find a hotel in some strange town. God is good all the time.