The Best Laid Plans- Part 2

We left the hotel promptly Sunday morning. GPS told us that the farm where Layla was staying was just 15 minutes from our hotel. We celebrated; we were on track to easily make it back to Three Wishes before dark.

Naturally we got lost. It was the GPS’ fault; it kept directing us down closed dirt roads.

When it became obvious that we were going to be 40 minutes late, I checked in with Leah who owns the farm to keep her in the loop. That gave her enough time to lightly sedate Layla before we left. (Layla IS only two and had never traveled alone or in a two-horse trailer before). After a false start, and some encouragement from an elderly Quarter horse that Laurie wanted to keep, Layla stepped in in my trailer and we were on our way.

I’m a neurotically careful driver when horses are onboard. (Kristin Mulhull claims I drive like an old lady when I have horses in back.  Since we’ve hauled her horses cross-country four times, I guess she would know.) This time was no different. Whatever GPS said our time would be, I allowed two additional hours to include gas stops and my general pokiness. We were still on track to be home before 5.

Laurie plugged in the audio book of Trevor Noah’s “Born A Crime” which distracted me from my shipping neurosis. I even managed to keep to a fairly consistent 70 mph while listening to my future ex-husband. (Sadly, Trevor doesn’t know this.) If you haven’t heard or read it, do. It’s brilliant: entertaining and educational.

We stopped for gas every few hours and I checked Layla who was quietly munching her hay. I guess she was resigned that this was her new life.  She seems to be that kind of horse.

Around 4 o’clock we came to the base Grapevine. It’s really, really, really steep. Most people know of it because whenever it snows, the CHP closes the road because so many cars and trucks get stuck on the climb.

 I moved to the far right lanes to join the slow big rigs chugging up the hill. Slow and steady. We were doing fine.

Until almost the crest of the hill.

Suddenly my coolant light went on. It became more and more insistent as I continued, and began flashing at me. I saw signs for a rest stop in a quarter mile, and pushed on.  I was damned if I going to be stuck on the side of the Grapevine with a horse in back.

My Aunt always said god protects children and idiots, and so I guess I agree. Somehow we made it to the rest stop. As we limped into truck area of the rest stop I was peering smoke billowing from the engine.

Even I knew this wasn’t good.

I am pretty calm in an emergency. Denial helps. A lot. To that end, I initially convinced myself that I when the engine cooled off, I could add coolant, and be on our way.

A lovely trucker who was in the same situation, said we could use water instead of coolant. This was good because I didn’t have any coolant and the AAA dispatcher firmly told me that their drivers could not carry liquids of any kind. Huh? But I hadn’t the energy to question her.

I just happened to have a crate of Fiji water in the back that was given to me by a friend. (Sidebar: It’s not that my friend loves Fiji water; though it is tasty. Her home was previously owned by an Influencer sponsored by Fiji. Crates of the stuff have magically appeared at her door for more than a year.)

While we waited, I offered Layla some Fiji water. She wasn’t interested. Simultaneously, Laurie poured a bottle of it into the radiator. The radiator didn’t want it either; it ran right though and created a puddle on the ground.

Definitely not good.

I called AAA and for the first time ever, got a rude dispatcher who informed me that none of this her problem. After I begged, the she did give me the number for a local company that might be able to help.

Wrong. That woman wished me a snarky ‘good luck” before hanging up on me.

Annaliese was going to meet us at the farm, so I called to warn her that we were in trouble. She’s also good in an emergency, and gulped and quickly texted me a list of haulers to call. (Normally she’d have come herself, but she is recovering from a fairly horrific arm injury.)

The first person I called to was super kind and willing to help, but didn’t have a hitch that would work between his truck and my trailer. He turned out to be a neighbor. We are going to meet up for some beers soon.  

I sounded better than I was. It was pitch dark and giant big rigs were flying in and out of the rest stop around us. I was verging on a panic attack, but I couldn’t lose control. I still had a two-year-old in the back.

I needed to fix the problem but I was at a complete loss.

So I called Mark.  Technically, Mark is our farm manager.  He is married to my horse trainer and didn’t get the memo that when I joined Team Edelweiss that he got me as a questionable bonus. In the four years I’ve been there, Mark has rescued me and my horses a lot. A whole lot. Way beyond the call of duty.

When I called, he had just arrived in Thermal, so he couldn’t come get us himself. But being Mark, he took control of the situation. Within 15 minutes, Cassie and Darren of Haulin’ Hooves were one their way to rescue us.

Thankfully, Layla had fallen asleep. At least one of the three of us was completely unfazed by all of this.

Proving that not all superheroes wear capes, Cassie and Darren pulled into the rest area less than 90 minutes later. After they unhitched my trailer. I limped my SUV to auto parking and stuck a note on the windshield pleading with the CHP not to impound it.

By the time I got back, Carrie and Darren had attached a hitch that worked between my trailer and their truck and were ready to go. Laurie and I climbed into the nicest truck I’ve ever seen, and the five of us were on our way.

It was an uneventful drive, though I think Cassie and Darren got tired of me thanking them every thirty seconds.

The only glitch came when it was time to get Layla out. My lead rope was in my truck at the rest stop, so when it was time to unload, I borrowed one. Unfortunately, in the dark Cassie grabbed a dog leash with a quick release, and as Layla was exiting the trailer it did. Loose, she trotted off in the dark before stopping to graze. It took about a minute before Darren caught her.

Honestly, after traveling for more than 11 hours, I think Layla was just glad to be out of the trailer and moving under her own steam.

I’ll say it again: she is an amazing two-year-old.

Annalise tucked her into a stall for the night and generously gave Laurie and I a ride to my place.  The next day the ever-kind Laurie drove me back to the rest stop to rescue my car. A wonderful AAA driver picked up the truck and brought me to an amazing mechanic. He told us that the Grapevine was known locally as The Car Killer, which explains the six service stations at an exit in the middle of nowhere. Then the mechanic replaced my radiator on the spot, and we were on our way.

That night I finally lost it. I shook, and shook and shook. And then got some bourbon.

I did learn several lessons from this debacle.

1. You never save money when you think you are going to.
2. I have amazing, terrific friends.
3. All of the truckers we dealt with -including one who saw the trailer and pulled off the freeway to check that we were okay- were incredibly kind.
4. I owe Layla’s life to Mark, Cassie and Darren. Animal people are the best.
5. I am never, ever going back to Sacramento again unless it is in an airplane.
6. I don’t think Laurie will ever travel with me again. I hope she is still my friend.

I was – am—very, very, very lucky. It could have been so much worse.

Gratitude is real.