Springer's Journey

There are people you meet on the road whom you expect to remember.

And then there are people who simply walk into your story without knocking.

Her name is Miranda.

I met her here at the KOA. She’s traveling too, in the cutest little RV, and unlike the romantic picture I once had in my head about wandering around the country, Miranda actually knows what she’s doing.

I am discovering that I do not.

This is going to be interesting.

Before she left the next morning, she noticed something.  I had an appointment at Joe’s Garage to get Cora “fixed.”

She hadn’t heard Cora (named after a Corvid, my favorite bird) start.

Now, most reasonable people might have thought, Huh. Lorrie’s car hasn’t moved.

Miranda came over with a jumper box.

Because apparently some travelers carry useful equipment rather than merely a carved walking stick and an impressive collection of stories.

We tried the jumper box. Cora remained decidedly uncooperative.

I asked Miranda to get behind the wheel and try her.
She did.
Then she looked at me and said, “Lorrie, I think it’s the starter. I don’t think it’s the alternator.”

Interesting.

I was standing beside a Subaru that had apparently decided attending her own doctor’s appointment was optional.

I was trying to figure out what to do next.

Miranda started walking back toward her RV.

Then, without even turning around, she tossed over her shoulder:
“Call AAA. That’s what they’re for.”

Oh.
Right.
AAA.
The roadside-assistance people.
Whose membership card I carry.
For roadside assistance.

ARE YOU SERIOUS??!!
So I called AAA.

They sent a flatbed.
Cora went to Joe’s Garage.

And thus began our newest educational endeavor:
CORA 001

Auto Mechanics for People Who Currently Know Where the Gas Goes

There are moments when somebody’s kindness catches you so completely off guard that “thank you” seems terribly inadequate.

So I hugged her.

Sometimes that’s all you’ve got.

Cora’s diagnosis turned out not to be the starter.
Michael at Joe’s believes we’re dealing with an intermittent alternator failure.

Cora, naturally, behaved perfectly for him.

Of course she did.

Friday:
“I shall fail spectacularly on I-40.”

Monday, with a professional mechanic behind the wheel:
“Good afternoon, sir. I am an exceptionally well-maintained Subaru. I have no idea what that woman has been telling you.”