Adventure on M-33

My newer older van has gone to newer older van Heaven. Her transmission gave out as I was on my home from Hessel in Michigan's Glorious Upper Peninsula. Though the gas mileage was atrocious I loved driving that thing. 

I managed to get the van to a gas station, engine screeching as she tried to hold sixty, then forty, then thirty miles an hour before I was able to park her over to the side at a Marathon near Alger, Michigan. Taking my membership card from my wallet (I would burn my one free two hundred mile tow per year getting the car home) the first issue was getting AAA to understand where I sat. I didn't think 'a Marathon gas station at 2320 state route M-33 about a mile north of exit 212 of Interstate 75' would be that hard to understand. Indeed I thought it was quite precise. Yet the operator for some reason couldn't seem to grasp it. Yet I finally got through to her and was assured a truck would be there in about 45 minutes.

That's not bad, but I didn't completely trust AAA under the circumstances. I did a web search on my cell phone (imagine that, Grandpa Joe: calling road service from a phone in your car on something like the Internet...not that you would have. You would have rang one of us to come tow you just the same) and quickly found a nearby company. "You're Charles Cosgriff? An order just came in to us from AAA for you," I was told. "We'll be there shortly." Oh. Cool beans.

And they were. The newer older van was soon on the back of a flatbed tow truck and we were on our way.

As were neared Bay City, the driver received a call that the company had a pickup in Oscoda for towing to Warren, just above Detroit. Could he meet that wrecker and take both vehicles to the Detroit area? Yes he could; we pulled into a parking lot just off the freeway and waited. I can't say I wasn't disappointed with the delay, but I get it. Why should two drivers have to make a long tow when one was already headed the same direction?

The Oscoda truck was actually there very quickly (he was already en route to the D), gave us his tow, and headed back. It turns out he left too soon: the hydraulics went out on the truck I was with. He couldn't load the Oscoda car. The company sent another truck...who was unable to take two cars at once. Why even send him? Hell if I know. 

So a third tow truck was hailed. The drivers worried that they might not be able to easily get my newer older van off the original truck, what with the hydraulics out. Great. 

But somehow, and quite impressively to my small mind, they determined they could back one tow truck against the other and roll my newer older van from the hydraulic less vehicle onto the third truck's bed. Further adversity was saved!

And so fortunately was further adventure. About two and half hours later I was home, my newer older van parked for the last time next to my house (I had things to unload, and I think I can force her the quarter mile to a nearby junk yard on Monday or Tuesday). Still, I'm genuinely sad. The newer older van was very good to me. I'm gonna miss her.