CobMeister(at)aol.com wrote:
> Hey Gang,
>
> So anyway, after getting long post #2 posted to the net last night, yesterday
> afternoon, whenever it was, I ventured outside and found that Penasacola's
> evening temperature and humidity had plunged down into the high 80's. This
> being the best weather we were likely to encounter until we are back along the
> banks of the Mighty Rio Grande, I decided to avail myself of the opportunity
> to crawl around the 'Pine for a bit.
>
> I satisfied myself that every thing still seemed tight, nothing working loose.
> I noted that the carb linkage had considerable play in it at the front end
> and, lacking a suitable spacer, there didn't seem to be much I could do about
> it. So, I contented myself with using carb cleaner to spray down all the
> springs and wearing surfaces, then applied WD 40 to everything.
>
> This didn't completely solve the problem of the CD 150s' leisurely return to a
> closed throttle position, but it did help considerably. Much encouraged, I
> moved on to the bonnet latch. Again, all the adjustment space had already
> been adjusted out, so I had to be satisfied with cleaning and greasing.
>
> I confirmed that the trunk had stayed mostly dry during the day's several
> deluges and, all in all, I was quite pleased when we adjourned to dinner.
> Since at this point we running about two hours behind our self-imposed
> schedule ("early to bed, early to rise...") I convinced Janet that we should
> satisfy ourselves with a sandwich or steak at the Denny's restaurant which "on
> premises."
>
> Big mistake.
>
> Not only was the food considerably below Denny's usually pedestrian standards,
> the wait staff were, as they say down this way, "dummer n' dog shit." After
> gorging ourselves on Club Sandwiches and delectable frys, I made the mistake
> of trying to pay the $13 bill with a credit card.... The 73 year old waitress
> swiped my venerable Visa in every conceivable way. Frontwards, backwards,
> upside downwards, edgewards, endwards... Alas, to no avail.
>
> The 73 year old waitress' 86 year old supervisor came to her assistance and
> they decided there must be "some of them little bitty scratches on this stuff
> here on the back o' the card." They then began repeating the whole swiping
> process. I asked if maybe they shouldn't just punch in the card numbers on
> the little keypad? "Keypad?" Yeah, the keypad there on cardreader.
> "Cardreader?"
>
> At this point Janet, my loverly bride of 33 years, stepped in and offered to
> pay for dinner, such as it was, with actual cash money which, the waitress-
> supervisor combo allowed would "probly work a whole lot better'n messin' with
> those number things."
>
> Janet and I repaired to our room where we dosed liberally with Pepto and
> retired at about 10 PM.
>
> Four AM comes awfully early just about everywhere but it arrives even earlier
> than that on the Gulf Coast. I wish I could say that I greeted the hour with
> open arms or even an open mind but about all I could manage was open eyes and
> they had been open for some time at that.
>
> The morning appeared to have arrived sans rain!
>
> Janet couldn't sleep either so we were both already dressed when the wake-up
> call arrived. Half-an-hour later Janet had herself and the 'Beam surrounded
> waist high in luggage. I would have offered to help load the car but she is
> just so darned good at it... The way I see it, no matter how much I'd enjoy
> the loading operation, my participation would just break her concentration...
> actually be counter-productive, donchaknow?
>
> Shortly before 6 AM I pushed open the door to the motel office where the clerk
> greeted me with, "I figger they had oughta just plant that Gol-damned Starr
> underneath the Gol-damned jailhouse. Who the hell cares where the Pres has
> been gettin' his? Anyhow?" Thus, while I settled my bill the clerk and I
> spent a short but pleasant interlude in intelligent discourse. Nice fella, he
> has promised to visit the next time he is in Las Cruces.
>
> At the stroke of 6 Janet and I are accelerating up the on-ramp to I 10 headed
> for the Alabama border a dozen miles away. The weather is dry... well, at
> least it isn't actually raining. The 'Pine accelerates easily up to 70 and
> after five minutes or so, I actually roll my window 3/4 of the way up. Janet,
> however, leaves her window down, vowing to suffer the chill while she can.
>
> The Interstate is one of those damned "thumpty-thump" surfaces and we hit an
> expansion joint every 20 feet. Just as the Alpine hits its stride and settles
> in to push through the morning dark, the bonnet pops open and I cruise to the
> side of the road to climb out and re-slam the thing.
>
> We make it about 6 miles and I am helping Janet congratulate me on getting the
> carbs to be more responsive when the bonnet pops again.
>
> At the Alabama border the road surface becomes smooth and just as we get back
> up to speed we cross the river Styx. I think, "Ah-ha! That explains this
> Gulf Coast weather!"
>
> I have no further problem with the bonnet until I cruise into a rest area to
> visit the Gent's facility. Yup, on the road less than half an hour. Sigh...
>
> It is not yet 7:30 when we cruise by mist-shrouded Mobile. All systems are in
> order, 75 mph, 40# oil pressure, 85 degrees C, 3/4 tank petrol, all lights
> blazing away and the morning sun a huge red ball climbing in my rearview
> mirror to literally suck the moisture out of the earth's surface.... The world
> is good.
>
> Janet and I spot a deer with a tiny fawn in the hock deep grass on the
> freeway's mowed verge. It is really great until I begin to wonder whatinell a
> doe is doing with a tiny fawn in mid-August. Hmmmmnnnnn.... Stuffed? Steel?
> Or concrete? Janet don't wanna hear it, she saw a mommy and a baby and that
> is that... 'Pine don't care one way or the other.
>
> We cross into Mississippiippiipi....... anyway, the road goes back to
> "thumpty-thump" mode and the bonnet starts popping open again. This wouldn't
> be a big deal except for the frequent crosswinds which raise the bonnet an
> alarming 6 inches.
>
> I pull into a rest area where I sacrifice my eyeglass tether on the altar of
> progress and use it to tie the bonnet so it can't pop up more than a few
> inches. The rest area, incidentally, is beautiful and we are again amazed at
> how clean the roadways are. If only they were a little smoother....
>
> The sun is well up and both temperature and humidity are rising apace when I
> begin a long term game of tag with a truck hauling a 20 foot wide mobile home
> all over the freeway. I am in front holding to a steady 75 mph while the
> following truck is varying between 70 and 80 depending on whether the terrain
> is a little up or a little downhill. Let me tell you that is one humongous
> house trailer...
>
> He uses up well over half the two available lanes well over half the time,
> forcing the faster traffic to use the left shoulder to pass him. When he
> manages to get up to 80 he pulls up behind me and flashes his lights, urging
> me to speed up a bit... Yeah, right.
>
> After an hour of this I note that the 'Beams temp gage has climbed above 85
> degrees, heading inexorably for about 100 degrees. I desert the joust with
> the shanty-toter and head for a rest area where I manage to break into my
> bonnet with considerable difficulty. The engine compartment reveals that some
> coolant has cooked out of the overflow (no recovery system is fitted) but I
> can't tell how much or why.
>
> Janet and I look over the rest area whilst the Alpine cools. These
> Missippioooiippii rest areas are something else... Rugs on the floors, nice
> oak dining tables and breakfronts, free coffee and soft drinks, and, of
> course, full time security.
>
> After a while I dig into the engine compartment. Fan belt is fine. All hoses
> look good, no leaks evident. The radiator cap is almost cool enough to handle
> so I pop it and, of course, promptly spill coolant everywhere. Sigh...
>
> After another wait, we fetch water and Janet starts the little dear up. It
> starts readily and the temp gage reads only slightly above 85 when I add water
> to the running engine. To my immense relief it does not come shooting back
> out the filler neck. It takes three pints to bring it back up where it
> belongs and I can see water circulating merrily. Clearly, there are no
> obstructions and both the pump and the thermostat are working. I check again
> for leaks and find none. I examine the tail pipe while Janet runs the engine
> up and no water comes out.
>
> Whew!
>
> I let the engine cool down just a bit again before tying my bonnet down and
> heading out. I resolve to hold my speed at 60 mph and see what happens. What
> happens is the temp holds steady at 85 degrees C until I pull off the road in
> Slidell, Louisiana for something to eat. We haven't yet had breakfast but it
> is past 10 AM and I decide on burritos.
>
> On the second bite of my burrito I experience a blowout... Refritos, meat
> paste, and hot sauce come shooting out the side of my burro just above my
> pinky finger. The mess goes shooting all over the table and onto part of the
> booth, though you can hardly tell with that crappy color scheme they have
> going for them.
>
> It is while we are cleaning up this mess that we learn that this Taco Bell in
> Slidell, Louisiana has talking trash cans. Talk about your pointless
> technology file... When Janet was dumping a tray with a couple of cups and
> some paper the trash can says, "Thank you!" just as big as life.
>
> But does it say anything to me for cleaning up all that meat paste, refrito
> mess and hot sauce smear? Not one damned word. There ain't no justice.
>
> As we motor across Louisiana's surface roads at a steady 60 mph and steady 85
> degrees C, it is hot, humid, and miserable and we begin to hope for a little
> of yesterday's rain. Actually, Janet begins to hope for a little rain, I
> begin to hope for a lot of the stuff.
>
> And we do manage to encounter several satisfying little downpours before we
> finally arrive at Lafayette at two PM. We have put in 8 hours and covered 371
> miles increasing our total Alpine mileage to 920. We hold up in the room
> until full dark before venturing out to find a plate of red beans and rice
> and, of course, a Wally World.
>
> Cheers!
>
> --Colin, With Severe Truck Driver's Arm Outside Lafayette, LA