We decided to pack up our camp Sunday morning and head back home, to beat the heat and avoid the mosquitos and flies. We originally had intended to stay up in the mountains all day, and then return in the evening, but we were so sick of the bugs. All my zen-like nature was started to fade away, and total annoyance and irritation from the bug bites was starting to increase.
We packed up pretty quickly, taking note of what to do better next time as far as organization goes. I think I've already forgotten most of those notes, so that's fun. We started to head back home. We stopped and got some food first, as we were rather hungry.
Our cars were a mess, and completely covered in dust. So, we stopped at a car wash near our house. It's one of those spray-it-yourself types, which I don't mind. It's only a couple bucks, and it does well enough. I spray mine down as quickly as I could, and go to leave. But my car wouldn't start. It would click rapidly, but wouldn't turn over.
Shit.
Adrenaline begins pumping, and the mindset of “oh fawk” kicks in.
I've had this happen before, so I immediately knew it was the battery. Tits McGee had just pulled out and left before I could wave her down, so I had to call her back to come help jump me. Her car is a hybrid vehicle, which has a big electrical system in it. But it turns out those vehicles aren't the easiest to jump another car with. I couldn't figure it out. We were even trying to look it up with our phones on the fly, but had no luck.
Finally, we decided to ask someone that was pulling out of the car wash bay if they wouldn't mind coming to give us a jump. And thankfully, the first guy we asked was that kind person. He pulled up, after we waited for him to finish spraying down his truck, and we got everything hooked up. I let it sit for a few seconds, and then go to start my car.
Nothing.
Tick tick tick, but it still wouldn't turn over.
Slight panic hits again. But, I decide to wait a few more seconds, figuring that maybe it just needs a little more juice.
I get out and thank the guy for helping us again, trying not to let my panic show.
I go back in the car and turn the key.
Tick tick tick.
Nothing.
We give it a few more tries, even adjusting the cables a few times as we weren't sure they were entirely connected correctly.
Tried again.
Nothing.
By now, Tits McGee is starting to get more anxious and nervous, and starts googling roadside assistance numbers to get more help.
Another guy shows up, and asks if he can help. And in exchange for any and all the manly points I have left, I say, sure. Please! He checks over everything and then pulls out another little box, which looks like a battery charger. We plug it into the first guys truck, and connect everything. We let it sit there for about 30 seconds. I go and crank it.
Nothing.
Now I'm starting to feel the weight of the feeling that can only be described as, “You, my friend, are completely fucked”.
I crank it over and over, hoping that it will just turn on. Still nothing. I sat in the car for a few minutes each time as well, and the heat was unbearable. Sweat was pouring out of me from
I get out, feeling totally fucked. Totally stressed. And just running through the next options in my head.
Do I call a tow-truck? Do I walk down the road to the Auto Zone and try to get a new battery and parts and fix it in the car wash parking lot? Do I even have tools with me?
The other two guys are chatting a little, talking in a manly-man language that I don't know. I just nod along as though I'm a real man that knows what he's talking about, knows cars, and claims “Camo” as my favorite color. I think they bought it – mostly.
I finally decide to tell them thank you for being kind in helping us, but we would probably have to call someone else and go another route. They start packing up everything, and wishing us the best. The whole time – maybe a couple of minutes – the battery charger device was still connected to my car, and running.
I go in the hot car, sit down, and start praying to every deity you can think of.
I turn the key...
And...
It starts!
The car finally fucking started!
I sit there for a second, wondering if it really happened. The guys outside turn and look at me, and throw their hands up in the air with success and wonder, as if to say, “What the hell!? Now it works!?”
I leave the car on, of course, and hop out. We thank the men over and over. They are happy for us and feel successful! They pack up and leave.
Tits McGee and I make a quick game plan to head home, which was about 2 miles away. There, I would park, take apart the battery, then we'd go get new stuff, and return.
And that's basically what we did.
So, it wasn't the most fun of an experience to return to. It was crazy hot, and in my garage it was even more hot while I was attempting to take apart everything. The battery was in horrible shape, and the acid had eaten away the majority of the cable connections. I bought a bunch of new stuff, (which didn't really fit, but I made it work anyway).
The car fired up after I put everything back together. I tried it a few times. I felt happy again. I still was negative as far as manly-man points go, but I can fool my way through society again and regain some of those.
We unloaded the cars, showered, cleaned up, made some quick pasta and veggies, and crashed for the evening, exhausted.
More later...
/mg