Today we drove no freeways, only state highways. For one stretch of 47 miles through the mountains we counted 2 cars. Just two.
Vanna Nicole stalled as we left Portand and the car directly behind us was-miraculously-another sympathetic Westfalia driver. Other drivers honked at us but he didn't. He knew.
We stopped for breakfast at a coffee shop in a very small logging town, Estacada. The owner of the shop was very interested in us. She finally asked us if we were a couple (are we that obvious?). We said yes and she told us her 13 year old son had just told her he was gay. We talked for quite a while and reassured her all would be ok. Small town, small world. I just wish I had given her my number in case she wanted to talk more.
We had lunch in a town named Detroit. Big mistake. Vanna's a German car. We should have stopped in Berlin. Vanna would get her revenge.
Here are the girls outside the diner in Detroit, Oregon. It was raining or snowing hard all day:
And here is some sage advice found in the men's room of the diner:
When we left the diner (in Detroit, remember) I noticed the rainbow sheen of oil on water under the van. uh oh, an oil leak. A quick check of the dipstick showed we were down a quart or two and we had only driven 200 miles. I put in a quart and drove to Sisters, Oregon where it was dry enough to crawl under the van. This is what I found:
Vanna Nicole stalled as we left Portand and the car directly behind us was-miraculously-another sympathetic Westfalia driver. Other drivers honked at us but he didn't. He knew.
We stopped for breakfast at a coffee shop in a very small logging town, Estacada. The owner of the shop was very interested in us. She finally asked us if we were a couple (are we that obvious?). We said yes and she told us her 13 year old son had just told her he was gay. We talked for quite a while and reassured her all would be ok. Small town, small world. I just wish I had given her my number in case she wanted to talk more.
We had lunch in a town named Detroit. Big mistake. Vanna's a German car. We should have stopped in Berlin. Vanna would get her revenge.
Here are the girls outside the diner in Detroit, Oregon. It was raining or snowing hard all day:
And here is some sage advice found in the men's room of the diner:
There was oil dripping under the car from the pan. We drove Vanna to Bend, Oregon and a shop called German MasterTechs. They found three oil leaks: fly wheel ring O seal, main transaxle seal, and oil pressure gauge seal. Here's the nice Master Tech Jonathan checking out Vanna:
And the shop was as clean and organized as an operating room. It was German.
So now we are indefinitely stranded in Bend. And after today we will definitely get "bent" in Bend tonight.
The dilemma now is do we continue on in the claptrap vanagon (if and when it is fixed) or go back to Seattle and do the trip in John's new Cadillac (his "jew canoe" as he calls it).
Opinions? Anyone? Anyone? Bueller?
The good news? Here's the bathroom at our hotel in Bend:
His and his bathtubs!
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