This Time It Wasn’t the Yellow Bug

Fall River

Beautiful Fall River in Estes Park, Colorado.

When my sister Bec was visiting back in July, we had plans for a sisters’s weekend in one of our favorite places — Estes Park. I have mentioned before that we have pleasant memories of family vacations in that pretty little town just outside Rocky Mountain National Park and Bec, Jen, and I try to spend a weekend there once a year. Unfortunately, as they say, “The best laid plans of mice and men often go awry.” (Those Scots. They’re so optimistic.)

Well, awry the plans indeed went as I ended up in the hospital last July. However, since resiliency is our middle name, we immediately made new plans for Bec to come back early in the fall so that we could not only hear the elk bugle, but see some fall color as well.

So, we spent this past weekend in Estes Park, and had an amazing time. I will tell you about it tomorrow. Because I have to tell you about some more best laid plans that went where? Yes, you guessed it. Awry.

We decided to conclude our wonderful weekend with a walk around Bear Lake before we would leave for home. The walk is not only breathtakingly beautiful; it was one of our mother’s favorite activities. We walk it partly in memory of Mom.

After morning coffee and some relaxing time sitting by Fall River, which flows merrily past our hotel, we packed up the cars — Jen’s and mine. I had elected to drive the Hyundai to Estes Park because Bill is in Chicago and it is so much nicer to drive in the mountains than my yellow bug. I agreed to drive into the park to Bear Lake. We all got in, put on our seat belts, and I started the car. Smooth sailing. Until I try to put the car into reverse and it won’t happen. A no-go. A deal breaker. It won’t move out of park and my dashboard is black. That seemed troublesome.

I won’t go into detail about how calm, cool, and collected I WASN’T. Thanks be to God my sisters kept me centered. Jen worked with Bill via Face Time and regular telephone in an attempt to figure out what was wrong. We finally narrowed it down to it being a problem with one of the fuses. Bless Bill’s heart. He really tried to talk us (and when I say us, I mean Jen) through a number of attempts to diagnose and perhaps even fix it, but at the end of the day, I called my old friends at AAA. God bless AAA.

“Hello Kris. How have you been? What’s the yellow bug up to now?”

hyundai tow truck

Bec and I end up driving back to Denver in a tow truck, pulling the Hyundai behind us. Bec sat on the hump. She’s a good sister. As you would imagine, there are not a plethora of towing companies in Estes Park. Bob’s Towing is about the only game in town. So Mrs. Bob’s Towing towed us while Mr. Bob’s Towing stayed in Estes Park awaiting the next call. Apparently they get many calls every day.

We enjoyed our conversation with Mrs. Bob’s Towing (whose name is actually Diane) as we drove down the mountain into Denver. The car is awaiting repair, and I’m back to driving the yellow bug, which is feeling smug that for once, it wasn’t the cause of the AAA call.

And Bec is wondering if she will ever visit us without drama ensuing.

2 thoughts on “This Time It Wasn’t the Yellow Bug

  1. I was going to mention that my 10 year old car did not need to be towed but I don’t want to push it with God and His universe!

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