To appease any car buffs who may frequent my musings here is the short-story. First, she overheated while traveling through Selinsgrove to the point where she stalled right in the middle of the road. By God's grace, the very spot I stopped moving at was across the street from an Auto Zone. They gave refilled my antifreeze, replaced a blown fuse, and revealed secret paths to avoid traffic. This worked for about ten miles where I noticed the heat gauge on the car starting to spike towards overheating once more. I quickly pulled into a shopping mall complex to get in park and cooling off. At this point I decided to eat something in order to allow for more time. To my disdain, "the Golden Arches" was the only food arena within safe walking distance. I ate a light meal, and I still feel like my insides are rotting because of it.
As I ate, I noticed another Auto Zone within safe walking distance, so I headed over there to possibly gain more insight. The man suggested I rewire something to get my cooling fan running (it stopped the first time, but the other guys said I would make it alright...I think they underestimated the heat my car can produce). I headed back with no clue how to avoid constantly making pit stops to let my car cool off when I noticed a large greenish puddle underneath my front right tire. I'm no car whiz, but I am pretty sure a puddle of that size was not just the leftovers from the first overheating dripping down. At this point I called the closest thing I have to a car guy on my list of friends: Jordan Novak.
Jordan is a straight shooter, and he simply told me to turn around and head home. He feared the worse as I told him the dilemma. We both share an attention to our old cars (90 Accord and 86 Supra), so he understand the pain I felt. As I was talking on the phone a white truck pulled up to eat their dinner in peace and quiet. I couldn't help but notice the man had a "mechanic" look to him, but I didn't want to stereotype. After listening for roughly ten minutes (I think he had heard enough rambling) he offered to take a look. When he stepped out of the truck, he was in his full garage gear with a name patch and all. His suggestion was the same as the Auto Zone guy, so he sent me back to pick up some wire, antifreeze, and a toggle switch.
While I was gone, he refilled my radiator while his wife threw wood chips over the increasing puddle under my car. I brought the supplies, and he quickly went to work. Basically, he ran a separate connect directly from my battery to the cooling fan because the wiring wasn't working. The toggle switch would allow me to turn it off when I got home and not waste my battery. He also looked at the leaking antifreeze, but grimaced the more he studied it. He said I should be fine to drive the hour back home, and that my car needed to have the leak checked out. In his words, "I don't like where that is leaking from." As far as I know any leak is bad, but he seemed to think this one was worse.
Anyhow, he got the new system running and gave me some quarts of water should I need to pull over for cooling down purposes. I thanked him immensely though he refused the offer to pay him for his efforts. He wished me good luck and got back to his whatever his Friday evening entailed. I got in the car and headed back home, praying I would make it without needing to stop. To make a long story short (this is short?), my car was fine until the last 20 minutes of the trip. However, each stop light was green so I reached the moment before overheating just as I pulled into my driveway. Now I am here while most of my family is at the lake and friends are off on other journeys. I am not sure why God had this happen now, but I am already seeing how He is going to take this weekend and make it useful in working at me. I guess with nowhere to go, God finally has me where He wants me.
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