While heading north to Wisconsin to visit with family for a bit, we ended up stranded just outside of Bowling Green, KY. If you’ll remember, we lived very near Bowling Green just months ago and in fact spent quite a bit of time here. Ending up with our truck in the shop, here, of all the places we’ve been, seemed downright ironic. Not that it matters much.

We spent the night boon docking at the Bowling Green Cabela’s and pulled out early Saturday morning. We noticed the engine was acting a touch odd. Dear Husband turned the key, engine fired, ran, shook, died out. We do have a diesel and it was quite cold, especially compared to Florida. We assumed the fuel was the trouble (cold diesel can gel). So we tried again. Key turned, ran, pulled out, engine died while trying to exit the parking lot. I guess we should have called it quits there. Instead we tried again. This time the engine ran until we got 25 miles outside of Bowling Green, and then quit. It wouldn’t start again until a few days later.

We had the foresight to sign up for roadside assistance before the trip and whipped out the card. I called, we waited, we wondered, we planned. A lot of towing companies refused to tow us because of the trailer, but we only needed the one who would. We found him and waited until mid-day. He came from Horse Cave, quite a ways actually, because no local company wanted to do the job. That was frustrating.

The tow truck company brought another car to carry the boys, dog, and I straight to the Bowling Green KOA. Dear Husband, Tracy, and our broken truck were behind. The plan was to have Tracy towed into the KOA, then the truck towed to the dealership.

While stranded, the boys met four homeschooled kiddos. They gelled perfectly. They spent most of the three days playing with the kids at the park. Since we already “lived” Bowling Green, we didn’t really need to sight see. Instead I caught up on emails, phone calls, tidying, and so on while the boys played.

Our truck broke down on our journey back from Colorado Springs last October, when we picked Tracy up. Feeling this is strike two, I got nervous. I questioned whether it can go for a year. Dear Husband gave me a little perspective. Since purchasing the truck for this job, we’ve put on an average year’s worth of miles, over 30,000. That’s a lot. Somedays we drive a full eight hours. That’s a lot of “on” time. He reassured me this is routine maintenance, annoying, yes, but not out of the question.

A few days later, fixed lift pump rocking, we sailed by the spot just a few days ago trapped us. We happily pressed on, and drove seven more hours north, to Wisconsin.