Of course we did not get out of the house and in the car at 2:30 like Garry had hoped, it was after three pm when we left the village but he knew we should make it there by five pm as we hurried along.
We got through Zaporosia, which takes a while, there is no bypass around Zap. Garry did a quick stop for Pepsi, peanut m and ms and grapes at a grocery store (travel snacks) and were heading south, the sky streaked a little pink as the sun started to think about setting around four pm.
Garry stopped the car and the smoke billowing from under the car prompted me to jump out too, carrying my purse and crocheting, I had started a mitten as we left the village.
Then the gas station attendant called someone to take a look..-
While he waited for them to come, Garry phoned Masha to tell the guys we wouldn't get there today after all. Then he called to say we would not make it to Bible study this evening either (we had planned to go there on the way home.)
Three guys pulled up in a little car and looked under the hood, and talked with Garry and had him start the car, rev the engine, and decided that it was a problem with the turbo, but said we could still drive it back to Zaporosia slowly.
The next gas station was only a mile or two,, there was smoke billowing behind the car causing other drivers to flash their lights to alert us. First Garry mumbled, I know I know, and thought we could just get some oil there, but when we stopped he quickly realized we did need to be towed back instead.
We sat in the car, once the smoke cleared inside... once again, we had to jump out when we stopped. Oil was dripping out of the tail pipe. Garry was on the phone again, talking with Max, and calling for a tow truck, which are not that common in Ukraine, although we had seen one on the way there, with a banged up Lada on. The gas station attendant here had a number for one.
After fifteen or twenty minutes, the guy phoned back, with a price and an arrival time, forty minutes. It was dark already, Garry turned on the interior lights so I could see to crochet. He bought some more snack food to eat, and even put his seat back and took a nap.
Garry got to steer as the van was winched onto the back of the truck. The guy stopped and went back to talk to him a couple times, he seemed to think that he must have it in gear or even have the brakes on.
It took a while to get it all the way up there and then the driver secured the wheels.
He asked if we wanted to ride in the van, or his truck. Garry vetoed the idea of riding on the back of the truck in our car, so he put the center seat up for me.
No seat belts of course, Garry held my hand, as I tried to not look nervous as I stared at the eye level cracked window inches in front of me. Garry squeezed his legs in, knees tight to the dashboard. He had a seat belt hanging by the door, but nothing to catch it onto to (not that he would have insulted anyone by wearing it).
My blood pressure may have risen a bit, even though Garry reassured me with "the guy doesn't want to crash his truck."
We, and the van made it safely to Zaporosia without any big scares, although a few bumps were found in the road, and few drivers passed us in a somewhat close to oncoming traffic fashion. No real surprises there.
The driver found the same place that fixed the van when I had the adventure on the bridge about six weeks ago, after a second call to Max for directions. I realize now that the exercise and no salt diet may not be all I need to lower my blood pressure...
Luckily we had a pocket full of cash for buying the semen, because we spent some on this trip. Less at Mc Donalds than having the van towed...
It was a slow ride home, but we arrived safely. The driver had me a little worried when making the u-turn on the highway to get to the village, but he waited for that first car, after all.
Don't tell Garry, who didn't buckle his seat belt, I found the shoulder belt hanging beside me and spent a few minutes fishing under the crack of the back seat for the other end and was securely buckled in all the way home. Hope i didn't insult the driver.