Tuesday, May 31, 2011

Stuck Inside of San Jon, With the Abq Blues Again




So, It's Monday night, June 7th, and we're boondocking at Terry's Truck Service in San Jon, New Mexico.  Old Gal is sad and wheezing, we are exhausted, and none of us is going anywhere anytime soon.  The only one who seems relatively cheery is Freddie, our sweet 13-year-old pooch, who has no idea what's going on, but is going with the flow.  The owner of the shop let us plug in to the building, which means we had enough electricity to turn on a few lights and possibly watch a video on our little 9-inch TV-VCR combo, but not much else.   We fell into bed and prayed for sleep.  


The next morning, we used their restrooms to wash up, made a space for Freddie in the back of the car behind the driver's seat, and took off in search of a way to spend the day.   On the advice of a mechanic, we went to the only major 'city' in the region, Tucumcari.  We set off west on Route 40, and 20 minutes later we came to a town whose most striking attribute was a mountain with a giant "T" painted on it.
We found a great diner on Old Route 66, found a spot to park the car in the shade, opened all the windows wide, and left Freddie to get some breakfast.  It was hot hot hot, in the 80s already in the morning, and I was very concerned about leaving her.  But I checked on her every 10 minutes and I can assure you she was happy and cool in the shade!   

Unfortunately, breakfast can only last so long, and we soon found ourselves driving around trying to eat up some time.   We drove the entire length of Old Route 66 through Tucumcari, which had many of those classic kitschy motels that made 66 famous.  Well, it used to have many of those motels.  Now most of them are mere shells, long closed, neon signs dark and windows broken.  There is much nostalgia about Route 66, but no one seems interested in maintaining its character.  And even if these motels did get new owners who spiffied them up, would anyone want to stay there instead of a Days Inn?   Nostalgia or no, there seemed to be very little thriving commerce on Route 66.  It was kinda depressing.  


After a thorough tour of Tucumcari we reluctantly drove back to Terry's Truck Service.  We were hoping that they were close to fixing Old Gal, but found that they hadn't even brought her into a service bay yet.  Clearly we were going to be there for the entire afternoon.  What to do?   We explored San Jon (at first I pronounced it San "John", but later learned that it was pronounced San "hone").   This town was like something out of a movie - it had one traffic light, one crumbling motel, a small school and a tiny post office.  There were a few streets of modest houses, and a gas station/truck stop just off the highway.  The entire town is located just south of Route 40 & Old Route 66, except for Terry's and a convenience store, which were across the highway to the north.  Much of the surrounding landscape was made up of cattle ranches, though we rarely saw any cattle.

We checked out a wind farm up on a mesa to the south of San Jon, then went north for about 45 minutes until we reached Ute Lake State Park.  What a beautiful lake!  It was surrounded by a light rock that looked a bit like limestone, and had water that was bright turquoise.  Wow!   By now it was 105 degrees outside, and we were hot and cranky, but all that changed the second we saw the water.  There were a few people swimming and they looked so happy that we decided to go in in our clothes!  



Two words - pure heaven!  The water was crisply cold and refreshing, and made me happy beyond reason.  Freddie even loved it!  She's not usually a big fan of water, but she walked right in up to her neck!   After that she proceeded to roll all over the sandy beach until she was one big yellow ball.  That's a happy dog!  It was a wonderful way to spend the day!


We got back to the truck shop in late afternoon, but had to sit and wait until 8pm for them to give us any news on the RV.   Once again the mechanic said he found the problem, then realized he hadn't when he and Jimmy went on a test drive.  I was upset by their seeming lack of concern over the amount of time it was taking or the quality of work by their mechanics, but where else were we going to take it?   It was getting harder to keep our spirits up. 


Another day passed waiting for them to fix Old Gal, and again Jimmy went with the mechanic on a test drive at about 9pm.   Jimmy didn't think the problem was really fixed, but Old Gal was running better, so we paid them a whopping $800 and finally continued down the road toward Albuquerque.   On our way again!   Only 200 miles to go!

We made it about 20 miles, to just outside of Tucumcari, when Old Gal sputtered and died by the side of the highway.   We had to call Terry's to come and tow Old Gal back to the garage, which took an additional 2 hours.  For the third night in a row, we were stuck in San Jon, with Old Gal no closer to being back on the road.   We took showers in the truck stop across the highway and felt dejected and depressed.   


We had been going like gangbusters since January when we bought Old Gal!  Jimmy drove her up to PA from Florida, we cleaned her, fixed her top to bottom, sold all of our stuff, did research on Albuquerque, planned our route and our job-hunting strategies, moved into our house on wheels,  and drove 1,700 miles cross-country  - only to get stopped dead in our tracks 200 miles from our destination.  Unbelievable! 

The one bright spot in being stuck in San Jon was the little take-out place in the convenience store next to Terry's Truck Service.  When we first walked in to get some water, we were greeted with the unmistakable and delectable aroma of Indian food!   I mean East Indian food, like you can find all over New Jersey!  My brain wasn't quite able to comprehend these exotic spice smells coming from this store in this town.  And it tasted as good as it smelled!  Delicious samosas and tandoori chicken as good as I've ever had!  What luck!   There's not a single restaurant in San Jon except for one that just happens to feature Indian cooking!  The people were friendly and all the food was made by a woman who seemed to be the elderly matriarch of the family.  If you ever find yourself near San Jon and you're feeling like a nosh, drop by this place for a great meal.  I don't remember the name, but trust me, it's easy to find...

We sputtered into Terry's on Monday afternoon and were finally out of there on Friday afternoon.  By Friday morning, they finally decided to switch mechanics, and the new one seemed to get it right.  We left San Jon at about 2pm, but without the same feeling of joy and anticipation we had the night before.  However, Old Gal was able to make the trip.  We had to stop every hour or so to let her rest, because she was still having trouble getting up hills.  


Finally, finally, a few hours later, we saw the Sandia Mountains up ahead, and we knew we were close to Albuquerque.  We had reservations at a campground outside of Abq in a little town called Tijeras (pronounced "Ti-herr-ahs") and we felt like the Hebrews must have felt after their little 40-year-hike around the desert.  Ok, so instead of 40 years, it took us 11 days.  But we too had reached our Promised Land, and we were grateful. 

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