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We sweated it out at the KOA in Rocky Ford, CO. For those unaware, the southeast parts of Colorado are dry, dusty, hot plains/foothills area. Not very unlike the panhandle of Oklahoma or the corners of New Mexico. It seems that afternoon took forever to wear away as we idled in and out of the bus. It was too hot inside, even with the top popped, and too hot outside. It's that kind of heat where you don't want your skin to make contact with itself, much less another person. It's the kind of heat that results in one lounging about in odd, very "unladylike" positions, as one leg is draped over the arm of the camp chair while the other is stretched out in front, one arm is thrown over the head acting as shade for the dark hair and the other arm is cast haphazardly over the side of the other arm of the chair. You are desperate for a breeze, for the tiniest breath of wind to break the stifling heat. To break up the heat, we took showers, allowing our hair to air dry and offer some cool respite. Once you were dry, however, it went back to draping yourself across the chairs. And so we waited for the sun to go down, discussing our options, hoping for something to go our way.
The sun did finally set and in the purple dusk we cranked up the bus and fervently hoped we would make it. We pulled out of the KOA onto the highway and made it a quarter of a mile before the smoke picked up in earnest. We were a once car mosquito killing machine as the plumes positively poured out of the back of the vehicle, creeping in through the benchseat and making our eyes water. We passed cars on the road, craning their necks to see the bus that was driving down the road on fire. We were not, it must be said, actually on fire. We were simply burning oil at a rate that baffled us. We made it another little bit down the road, looked at each other and decided this whole plan must be scrapped.
Scott found the next little emergency vehicle u-turn track, turned the bus in the opposite direction, and began to head back to the KOA. I'm watching the smoke, which at this point looks like the median has caught on fire because of the excess (the median was, in fact, not on fire) and was convinced that anyone driving behind or beside us would not have visibility through this smoke. My heart stopped and my stomach dropped at what I saw next though. On the other side of the highway I saw a patrol vehicle driving rather fast. I turned to Scott and delivered this bad news. He clenched his jaw and slammed his foot on the gas pedal. This resulted in us being able to go all of 45 mph on the highway, trying to out run the patrol vehicle that would inevitably turn around and track us down.
Our hearts pounding, because, you must remember, that we are emitting large amounts of environmentally-terrible emissions and Scott is driving illegally, we "race" down the entrance to the KOA, swing into a spot between RVs and quickly discuss a plan. At this point, we decide to switch seats and wait to see what will happen. All kinds of terrifying thoughts were racing through our minds: Scott taken in because they would realize he was driving, the vehicle impounded for releasing massive amounts of toxic smoke into the air, terribly expensive emissions tickets, and on and on.
Within moments we see the patrol car coming down the drive and emergency vehicles with their lights ablaze following after him. ohmigod, ohmigod, ohmigod. It's obvious they aren't sure what they are looking for as they trawl through the parking lot. Finally they park right in front of us, lights still on, and I bully up and step out of the car. My thinking here is: my father was once a cop, I am comfortable with people in uniform and I am young and female so they won't hassle me too much and if I can begin nervously engaging them early, thus throwing them off, they won't have to see our drivers licenses. Scott hesitantly steps out and stands next to his door as I walk forward.
Uniform man #1: Good evening, ma'am. We received a call about a car on fire.
Me: Oh, it wasn't on fire. It was just, um....leaking?
Uniform man #1, looking at bus: So no one's hurt? Everyone's ok?
Me: We're fine. A little put out (and mortified) but fine.
Uniform man #2 approaches: You're newly married? I noticed the writing on the windows over there.
Awesome. Chalk one up for the decorators.
Me: Yes, sir (because it does pay to be polite). Three days now. We're actually on our honeymoon but it doesn't seem to be going quite as expected.
Both cast dark looks in Scott's direction and then turn back to me with sympathetic looks in their faces. Yes! Play that sympathy card, girl. My plan is working beautifully. Turn on sad, pitiful face. This is where my large brown eyes really play in my favor. Kill them with the puppy dog look.
UM #1: Where you headed?
Me: Weeellllll....we were headed to Banff, Canada but given our car situation we have decided that it needs to be taken back to Oklahoma.
UM #2: You sure were putting out a lot of smoke. (Looks around and gestures for lights to be shut off on emergency vehicles).
Once the lights were off, and my eyes adjusted, I saw that everyone at the KOA was looking out of their RV doors or windows. I am certain they were scandalized and convinced that the bus was undergoing a drug raid. I also noticed that emergency vehicles had continued to arrive so we now had a fleet of police, fire, and fire marshal vehicles parked haphazardly around our camp spot.
Me (laughing nervously): I noticed that. I think we killed every mosquito in the county for you.
UM #1: You aren't planning to drive that back to Oklahoma, are you?
Me (on the spot): Oh, not at all. It's obviously not fit to drive. We're going to have to haul it back and have some work done to figure out what is going on. We just have to wait until the morning.
UM #2: Good.
At this point Scott has engaged another uniformed person and they have gathered around the back of the vehicle inspecting it. I think the fire marshal was making sure the bus would not spontaneously erupt into flames sometime during the night. Can you imagine the scandal that would cause: young bride and groom burned in their bus during the night? Heavens, no, that could not be tolerated.
After a bit more chit chat, offering advice about how to haul the bus back, and once the uniformed were convinced that we would be responsible and really not drive the vehicle, they began to load up. The others that had been milling about were obviously disappointed that they weren't actually able to drag bodies from burning vehicles and put out raging blazes with the hoses.
Once they were gone, and the avid snoops in the RVs had retired for the night, Scott and I slumped down as the last of the adrenaline gave way. We were giddy that it had played out so well. No licenses were required and the worst we got were some dirty looks, in Scott's case, and some sympathy, in my case. Scott admired my sad puppy, desperate new wife act, and I admired his cool under pressure demeanor.
We decided the best we could do for that night was go to bed and then deal with it all in the morning.
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