After stopping and cleaning the window man times, dumping an Exxon Mobil rig worth of oil into the engine, fretting over the bit of blue smoke puffing out of the trunk, and getting nasty looks from fellow roadsters regarding their now dirty cars, we decided we needed expert help. By this time our merry roadtrip had taken us to La Junta, CO (pronounced "luhhunnuh" by the locals) on a Tuesday or a Wednesday. Apparently, these mid-week days are holidays there as no mechanic was to be found. The shops were closed, we had an apocalyptic moment where we considered everyone having been taken except us. The VW mechanic was closed and we were referred to the other mechanic in town. We tootle over there, pull up in our bus, now coughing and wheezing blue smoke and oil. Upon our arrival, we find a man in a white wife beater hanging outside the shop, beer in one hand, and left handed cigarette in the other.
We were told that the shop was closed because the mechanic and his buddy were drinking beer that day. We should come back tomorrow and they would be happy to help. What is this? A beer drinking holiday? But...but I needed help!
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I should mention at this point that our bus is covered in wedding graffiti that reads:
Canada or bust
If this van's a rockin'
Just married
and other such nonsense. This on top of being Kermit-the-frog green. Although, much of the print on the back window had been wiped off in our attempts to clean off the oil.
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Seeing my new-bride sadness and hearing our tale of woe, mechanic man took a look at the bus. After this inspection, the mechanic agreed to fix whatever was the problem for a fee since it was, after all, his beer drinking day. We happily hopped in the bus to drive it into the garage for an under-the-hood kind of assessment only to find that our vehicle would no longer start. Oh, woe! What is this? Our bus was dead, dead, dead.
Assessment from the mechanic's beer drinking buddy: Obviously the starter doesn't work. Yes, but the starter doesn't control the oil leak.
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