Everyday is an adventure. Life can be good, even when things happen that are sometimes less than good.
It was Friday, late afternoon and I had reached the summit of Highway 26. I passed Government Camp and Hood River Junction. I was well on a way to the town of Bend, where I was scheduled to attend a meeting on the following day I set my cruise control for a safe 57 miles an hour as I admired the snow and trees that bordered the highway. I drove on, and as time passed, I noticed the road starting to become straighter and the trees fewer.
A road sign declared: "You are entering the Warms Springs Reservation." I turned a knob and moved the radio dial to a stronger station. I noticed that my cell readout declared "No Service Available."
Trees disappeared and were replaced by sagebrush. I slowed down as I approached the Mill Creek Bridge and gazed at the deep canyon that it formed. I wondered how the early settlers were able to scale those cliffs and cross the deep canyon rift. I could tell that I was getting closer to my destination, the road no longer curved and it had become a straight line as I headed towards Highway 97. I estimated that I had little more than an hour before I got to my destination, in Bend, when I heard a hissing sound. A red light flickered on my cars instrument panel: "battery - No Charge".
"Oh oh." I thought. "My alternator isn't charging. I wonder if there's gas station or someplace where I can stop?"
The hissing was replaced by a "pop" and all at once my power steering and power breaks disappeared.
"Now I am in deep do do…" thought I, as I coasted my car into the parking lot of the Warm Springs Museum. The engine had stopped; but I still managed to glide into a parking place. I looked at my cell and said a word of thanks - a signal. I opened my hood, and a good Samaritan started walking toward me.
He was a man in his late twenties. He was dressed in blue jeans and a cotton shirt. He appeared to be a Native American.
"Looks as if you might be having some trouble;" said the man.
"I think my serpentine belt just broke" I replied
"Let's look at it" said the stranger, as he poked his head under my hood. "I think your alternator must have a bad bearing and froze up.
Look" he said as he tried to turn the alternator pulley. "It doesn't want to move."
"Oh boy." Said I. "I think I had better call Triple A."
"We have a phone book in the museum that you can use." Said the good Samaritan.
We walked to the Museum, a modern building constructed of concrete wood and stone. It was cool inside as a smiling and very concerned lady gave me the telephone number for the Triple A Garage in the nearby town of Madras.