At points life can give us one challenge after another, e.g., vehicle failure, almost simultaneously. These can be stressful, frustrating, depressing, worrying, and tiresome to the point of exhaustion. It may even make someone feel like everything around them is falling apart and they are failing, but it doesn’t have to be that way. In fact, it can be fun, enjoyable, adventurous, exhilarating, and growthful. It truly depends on your thoughts and the might they carry. This. I came to realize as I was traveling from Santa Cruz, California, to my home in small town, rural Ohio. In my previous writing I had left off in Salt Lake City, Utah, after having my second vehicle failure in two days of driving. Here is the awesome journey that followed.
When I broke down on the I 80 E and 215 S interchange I had no idea what was wrong. All I knew was the RV chugged a little and died. Fortunately I was able to pull it to the shoulder and get out of traffic. My first thought was, “Second day of driving and second break down. Glad I’m getting these out of the way early”. I then reached out to my insurance company, we will call them “reptile”, and explained where I was and that I needed a tow. They very promptly told me I wasn’t covered and they couldn’t do anything. This was news to me, because I have always had a tow package. Under further investigation I found that when I bought the RV and asked them to add it to the policy I had to specifically define what I wanted. As it is I only told them I bought a vehicle and wanted to add it to my existing policy which INCLUDES a tow package. As far as I knew the coverage would be the same for both vehicles. Guess who was wrong. Yup, me. They said that my car was covered for towing, but not the RV because I didn’t define all the parameters I wished included. Slightly nefarious if you ask me. They then proceeded to inform me that they must not have understood when I called, but they don’t backdate so I still won’t be covered. I asked a few questions to the agent and only received “I’m sorry for the inconvenience” as a reply. They wouldn’t even answer my questions. “Hmmmm…. Typical robot working for a machine I thought.” Nothing I can do here. I then gave up on the questions and just had them add the RV to the tow package, which they did for a fee. I would now be covered from the next day on. I then found a local tow company who said they would come get me for a small fee of $250.
When the tow driver arrived I instantly received good, positive vibes. The driver, a man in his mid 30’s, was a stocky build at around 6’ 220Ibs. His vibrant smile and twinkling pale blues was about all I could see. The rest of his face was covered with a beard that Paul Bunyan would be proud of. He introduced himself as Cody and asked what happened. I gave a brief explanation to which he replied, “do you mind if I take a look?”. I of course gave a ready consent and watched as he, with surprising speed and agility for his size, went under the RV. He popped back out a couple of minutes later and asked me if he could see the keys. I handed them over at once and watched as he started the vehicle with the first turn. He smiled and said “it’s running.” I smiled back and inquired if he had done anything. He informed me everything looked good underneath, but he saw a small puddle of antifreeze and thought it may have overheated. He also said he was no mechanic and that may not have been the problem at all. He then asked if I was going to continue driving on. I said, “No, I think I will have it looked at and diagnosed to prevent any further problems”. Cody thought that was a splendid idea and offered to let me follow him to a nearby auto mechanic. This I did with great joy. When we arrived at the mechanic (old fashioned service), I thanked Cody and spent a little time just talking to him and asking some questions. After a moment Cody said he had to go, bid me a farewell, and charged nothing for his time. In that moment I was overcome with a deep feeling of gratitude and hope in humanity. Now it was time to talk to the mechanic shop. I explained to the guy behind the counter what had happened and he said they couldn’t get to it until Tuesday, but it sounded like it may have overheated. They would check the cooling system then. He also said I could just stay in the RV at the shop until it was ready to go so I wouldn’t have to get a hotel room. WOW, two acts of kindness in 20 minutes. I thanked him, and with a warmth provided by true humanity, asked if he could point me to a local coffee shop.
When I walk into Higher Ground Coffee, located at 2005 E 3300 S, Salt Lake City, UT 84109, I notice it’s rather a quaint atmosphere. The two-part counter has one side featuring various sweet treats and beverages while the other is littered with license plates. There is bar style seating with the ability to seat up to three. Two armchairs sit in a corner with one facing North and the other East. There are two small round, and one average square table that complete the seating. The menu is hand written in chalk above the counter and the barista is making a local patron her drink while they chat about the fire that is presently giving the city a campfire smell. When I place my order, an iced coffee it’s about 90 fahrenheit outside, I notice the barista has phenomenal energy. I make of note of it and take a seat on a stool looking west. I should have a nice view of the sunset from here. I spend the next few hours downloading audio books, researching self-improvement, scanning the global news (not from mainstream sources), doing some writing, and searching the local map for parks or open spaces. At closing I thank the barista and then head back to the RV for some sleep. It’s been a long day.
I wake up Sunday and notice many places aren’t actually operating today. I also notice the wind has shifted and there is no longer a campfire smell. The game store I thought I would check out is closed until Monday, guess I should have checked the business hours, but there is a small park just around the block. I’ve got nothing but time so I grab my ukulele, a couple songbooks, my chromebook, a solar charger, lunch, and head the way of the park. As I get closer to the park I can hear an acoustic guitar and the distinctive twang only a banjo can make. Have I just stumbled upon something?
As I take a seat occupying one of the picnic style tables a friendly smile from a banjo player says hello. He is an older gentleman with grey, thinning hair, a thin build, and soft lines to his face. The guitar player, currently sitting with his back facing me, appears to be a little younger than the banjo player, but probably not by much. They are playing a fiddle/bluegrass tune that I am unfamiliar with and doing it well. When the song is completed they introduce themselves and we exchange pleasantries that are civil. Turns out this is the IAMA (Intermountain Acoustic Music Association) and today falls on the groups yearly picnic. Talk about being in the right place at the right time. They then asked if I played and wanted to sit in. I thanked them for the offer but declined and chose to just listen with enjoyment. I am not yet comfortable enough to play in front of many people, but I am sure they would have complimented my ability to pick Yankee doodle. Within about 20 minutes a third musician arrived, Brad. Brad stood about 5’8” tall, weighed about 170Ibs, and had the aura of an angel. His salt and pepper hair was the only betrayal of age. He had a couple soft lines around his face but nothing that was a reflection of anything beyond youth. Brad pulled out his guitar and took a seat in the circle. His first song selection, Melissa by the allman brothers, wasn’t received by the others. They were polite, but it was overly obvious they weren’t into the folk scene. Within an hour there were about 25 musicians, all sitting in a circle, playing fiddle tunes. From what I observed everyone in the circle gets “solo time” in which they play the melody while the others play the harmony. This gave each musician a little solo time and placed them center stage; many of which were only eager to accept. Unfortunately the one folk player, Brad, was the odd ball out. After about an hour Brad chose to leave the circle; he wasn’t much of a fiddle player and they weren’t much into playing folk tunes. This would turn out to be my good fortune.
I was, and had been, picking up peaceful vibrations and righteous feelings from the innermost of my being saying, “He’s righteous”. EVERY, and let me re-emphasize, EVERY time I have listened to this feeling/sense/voice it has proven itself worth continued pursuit. So I did what I have learned to do. I followed what I sensed and initiated small talk. I was curious what his second song choice had been so it proved simple enough to open. Turns out his second song was an original. Yes he is a singer/songwriter. The tune was named “waiting on words” and completely acoustic. He had gotten the name for it at an open mic from someone in the audience. He said he knew instantly it was the right name because something inside him had told him so. Errrt….. Put on the brakes! Did this guy just talk about an internal sense and following it? I think he did! We talked for the next hour and a half until he made his leave. I decided I had heard enough as well and made my way to a secluded portion of the park to practice the ukulele for about an hour before returning the coffee shop for some research, picture editing, and to give Monique a call; she’s a beautiful soul who cares deeply about me and humanity, I’m very fortunate. I spent the next two days at the coffee shop, park, and game store. I did come by a pretty awesome BillBoard as well.
On Tuesday morning the RV was the first to go in the shop. I went and grabbed a coffee to pass the time and returned after a few hours. The mechanic said it ran like a top and he couldn’t find anything wrong. This was far from rewarding; an unfixed problem will not correct itself. I thanked him for his efforts and asked if he minded I stay one more night. I had to wait for the insurance to come into being. He obliged my request and I left abruptly at 6 am on Wednesday morning with hope and uncertainty in my back pocket.