Tuesday, April 25, 2006
Day 20.
Another hot and windy day in Albuquerque. We relaxed at a cafe in old town until the mechanic called to say the van was ready to be picked up. Only problem was that they took it apart and put it back together... and the exhaust was still leaking. Even worse! And they wanted $486 for their effort! I drove out of Albuquerque at an all time low, feeling cheated and not sure of the future of the bus. To make things worse, in New Mexico the roads tend to lead north-south or east-west, and I wanted to go south-west, so I was stuck on the west bound road which happened to be an interstate! We parked up on a nice hilltop overlooking the town of Gallup, and got some much needed sleep.
Day 21.
We headed across into Arizona and shortly pulled into the Petrified Forest national park. A road runs 28 miles through the park and there are many places to stop off and check out the scenery - but not much more than a leg stretch. To the north is the painted desert, a wonderful expanse where erosion has washed away the soft clay soil and leaving thousands of gullies, nooks, and crannies across the canyon wall. Further south there are petroglyphs, a pueblo ruin about 800 years old, and evidence of human existence for more than 10,000 years. Driving further south across the moonscape we entered the petrified forest, where 225 million years ago in the late triassic, a forest once stood. The trees have turned to rock and erosion and land movement have made them once again exposed to the elements. So we drove south, playing leapfrog with other vehicles all the way down, and then out again into the hot arizona desert. Actually its not so hot, i just wrote that because i thought it sounded good.
We were heading south west across the Mogollon plateau, then over the rim and down, down a couple of thousand feet into the valley below. I'd almost forgotton the troubles of Albuquerque, happily cruising down the hill, a truck right up my rear, and then zzzzmmmmmmm. No power. No nothing. I put on the hazard lights and came to a stop at the bottom of the hill. I pulled out Georgia's fathers bottle of tsiporo and took a healthy swig, then went round the back and opened the engine compartment to see what had happened. Fuel? Yes. Compression? Yes (but only just). Power? Sure. At that point I realised even if i found the problem I wouldn't have the parts to fix it, so I called AAA and to my surprise someone was out to give me a tow into Payson within half an hour. My previous three experiences with AAA were not nearly so good. The driver dropped me off outside the only mechanic that would be open the next morning (saturday), and wished me well.
I pulled out my idiots guide for volkswagens and turned to the section helpfully titled "engine stops and won't start". Bingo! There in the first section was the key to my problems - the first thing to do, it said, is to have a beer. The only thing that the damn tsiporo was helping with was melting my nasal hair as i brought the bottle to my mouth. So I went off in search off beer and returned with a healthy stash. Now it was time to refine my tests. Compression? Yes. Fuel? Yes. Fuel pump working? Yes. Fuel pumping to carbs? Yes. Ok we got fuel. Power? Yes. Spark to coil? Yes. Good, ignition switch is ok. Spark to distributor? Aha! Coil is gone.. or.. at about this point beer number 4 seemed to be hindering rather than helping, so I packed up my tools and went off in search of Friday night life in Payson, AZ.
Payson, Arizona. Red-neck central! I'll say no more about the bar i found.
Day 22.
It was out with the toolbox again to see if I could solve this riddle without having to resort to mechanics. Spark.. going into the coil, but not coming out. If its not the coil, then it must be the points. I opened up the distributor and watched the points as i turned over the engine by hand. Bingo! The pad on the points that rubs against the squared distributor shaft that causes the points to open had broken off. The points weren't opening and so there was no charge going through the secondary circuit out of the coil! I ripped the points out, pulled my bike off the rack and headed for the nearest auto parts store. $6.50 later with new points installed, dwell set, timing checked, we were back in business! I'd be lying if i said i wasn't slightly chuffed with myself.
We cruised out of Payson and into the village of Strawberry, in search of some more hot springs. Got some directions and here i will start a list of guidelines to traveling cross country america.
Rule 1: never NEVER ask a local for directions. The only exception here is if you are wanting to know directions to the nearest walmart. But why would you want to know this.
The 8 mile drive down a dirt road turned to about 25. The "treacherous" road was in fact by NZ and Aus standards a good road. By Greek standards it was a good highway. We headed down deep into a canyon, surrounded by beautiful desert flora where cacti were flowering. Above us Fossil spring pumps water down the valley and we came to the most beautiful oasis near the bottom. A rocky gulley with deep pools of cold crystal clear water, foot long fish to swim with, shady trees to sit under.. this was a desert paradise beyond belief. We spent the afternoon there, met an old guy in a VW vanagon, and late in the afternoon headed down to the springs for the night. Here I must interrupt for another guideline.
Rule 2: never NEVER go to a place of natural beauty that offers free camping on a weekend.
Down near the spring the campsite was a congested chaotic mess of over 100 people wanting their "wilderness" experience. Here that pretty much means drive to a place in the middle of nowhere where everyone else goes to, and then proceed to get as rat-faced piss-arsed drunk as quickly as you possibly can. The place was a disgrace. Still, it had a hot spring and so we hiked off up the river to find it - at least there we would have a moments relaxation. Here again I was wrong. A "moment" of relaxation is far too generous a term for this spring. On the weekend. The spring was comprised of a couple of pools cemented into the side of a rock face next to the river. At the spring were 4 previously mentioned rat-faced piss-arsed drunks, and in the spring a couple entwined in love-making and oblivious to the people around them. The thing i couldn't work out was that these guys were calling each other "hippie". Where i come from we have another word for this type of person: redneck. I dipped my foot in the spring, scooped out a cigarette butt then headed back to the bus, repulsed. On the way back to the camp I weighed up driving out up the mountain in darkness or staying put. As I approached the camp the pounding from the multitude of amped-up car stereos helped me make up my mind. We headed up the mountain and stopped in an isolated spot, cooked dinner, then spread the blanket out on the dirt to watch the stars. A couple of hours later I was woken by some noise from people camping over the hill from me - i got up and watched the silhouettes of people around a fire. But get this.. in the middle of the dry desert and these morons had a fire blazing twice as tall as me! I made note of the dirt completely surrounding the van before i jumped in and crashed for the night.
Day 23.
Sorry, that was quite a rant back there. We drove back to our desert paradise for one last good memory of the area before heading up and out towards Sedona. By now there was a layer of dust on everything in the van, and my dish sponge was so dirty it was like i was cleaning it by wiping it across a dirty plate. We stopped in at Montezuma's Castle national monument, a 4 level cliff-dwelling high up above the river near Camp Verde. Here Indians lived 700 years ago and mysteriously left 400 years ago (before white man). The place was impressive. Next stop Sedona, home of the worlds four largest energy "vortexes". I can't say that I felt the vibe, but I was overwhelmed by the rugged red topography... this place has got to be on a list of must-see's in the US. Sadly we didn't have the time to stay, and so we headed south and up yet another mountain to the old mining town of Jerome. Jerome was once the 4th largest settlement in arizona, but once the copper mines were exhausted in the 50's it virtually turned into a ghost town overnight. At this point i should mention how I obtained this information, and thank the Jerome class of 46 and 56's "home-coming" - an event so important that the museum opened its doors to the public for free that day!
I locked Forrie up in the van, headed into the oldest family owned saloon in arizona, and met... a bloody Aussie! I was greeted with "a f*#king kiwi!", and felt strangely happy. A few beers later and after meeting the boogie-woogie piano thumping VW driving musician of the night, we headed up over the mountain and into the national forest above Prescott.
Another hot and windy day in Albuquerque. We relaxed at a cafe in old town until the mechanic called to say the van was ready to be picked up. Only problem was that they took it apart and put it back together... and the exhaust was still leaking. Even worse! And they wanted $486 for their effort! I drove out of Albuquerque at an all time low, feeling cheated and not sure of the future of the bus. To make things worse, in New Mexico the roads tend to lead north-south or east-west, and I wanted to go south-west, so I was stuck on the west bound road which happened to be an interstate! We parked up on a nice hilltop overlooking the town of Gallup, and got some much needed sleep.
Day 21.
We headed across into Arizona and shortly pulled into the Petrified Forest national park. A road runs 28 miles through the park and there are many places to stop off and check out the scenery - but not much more than a leg stretch. To the north is the painted desert, a wonderful expanse where erosion has washed away the soft clay soil and leaving thousands of gullies, nooks, and crannies across the canyon wall. Further south there are petroglyphs, a pueblo ruin about 800 years old, and evidence of human existence for more than 10,000 years. Driving further south across the moonscape we entered the petrified forest, where 225 million years ago in the late triassic, a forest once stood. The trees have turned to rock and erosion and land movement have made them once again exposed to the elements. So we drove south, playing leapfrog with other vehicles all the way down, and then out again into the hot arizona desert. Actually its not so hot, i just wrote that because i thought it sounded good.
We were heading south west across the Mogollon plateau, then over the rim and down, down a couple of thousand feet into the valley below. I'd almost forgotton the troubles of Albuquerque, happily cruising down the hill, a truck right up my rear, and then zzzzmmmmmmm. No power. No nothing. I put on the hazard lights and came to a stop at the bottom of the hill. I pulled out Georgia's fathers bottle of tsiporo and took a healthy swig, then went round the back and opened the engine compartment to see what had happened. Fuel? Yes. Compression? Yes (but only just). Power? Sure. At that point I realised even if i found the problem I wouldn't have the parts to fix it, so I called AAA and to my surprise someone was out to give me a tow into Payson within half an hour. My previous three experiences with AAA were not nearly so good. The driver dropped me off outside the only mechanic that would be open the next morning (saturday), and wished me well.
I pulled out my idiots guide for volkswagens and turned to the section helpfully titled "engine stops and won't start". Bingo! There in the first section was the key to my problems - the first thing to do, it said, is to have a beer. The only thing that the damn tsiporo was helping with was melting my nasal hair as i brought the bottle to my mouth. So I went off in search off beer and returned with a healthy stash. Now it was time to refine my tests. Compression? Yes. Fuel? Yes. Fuel pump working? Yes. Fuel pumping to carbs? Yes. Ok we got fuel. Power? Yes. Spark to coil? Yes. Good, ignition switch is ok. Spark to distributor? Aha! Coil is gone.. or.. at about this point beer number 4 seemed to be hindering rather than helping, so I packed up my tools and went off in search of Friday night life in Payson, AZ.
Payson, Arizona. Red-neck central! I'll say no more about the bar i found.
Day 22.
It was out with the toolbox again to see if I could solve this riddle without having to resort to mechanics. Spark.. going into the coil, but not coming out. If its not the coil, then it must be the points. I opened up the distributor and watched the points as i turned over the engine by hand. Bingo! The pad on the points that rubs against the squared distributor shaft that causes the points to open had broken off. The points weren't opening and so there was no charge going through the secondary circuit out of the coil! I ripped the points out, pulled my bike off the rack and headed for the nearest auto parts store. $6.50 later with new points installed, dwell set, timing checked, we were back in business! I'd be lying if i said i wasn't slightly chuffed with myself.
We cruised out of Payson and into the village of Strawberry, in search of some more hot springs. Got some directions and here i will start a list of guidelines to traveling cross country america.
Rule 1: never NEVER ask a local for directions. The only exception here is if you are wanting to know directions to the nearest walmart. But why would you want to know this.
The 8 mile drive down a dirt road turned to about 25. The "treacherous" road was in fact by NZ and Aus standards a good road. By Greek standards it was a good highway. We headed down deep into a canyon, surrounded by beautiful desert flora where cacti were flowering. Above us Fossil spring pumps water down the valley and we came to the most beautiful oasis near the bottom. A rocky gulley with deep pools of cold crystal clear water, foot long fish to swim with, shady trees to sit under.. this was a desert paradise beyond belief. We spent the afternoon there, met an old guy in a VW vanagon, and late in the afternoon headed down to the springs for the night. Here I must interrupt for another guideline.
Rule 2: never NEVER go to a place of natural beauty that offers free camping on a weekend.
Down near the spring the campsite was a congested chaotic mess of over 100 people wanting their "wilderness" experience. Here that pretty much means drive to a place in the middle of nowhere where everyone else goes to, and then proceed to get as rat-faced piss-arsed drunk as quickly as you possibly can. The place was a disgrace. Still, it had a hot spring and so we hiked off up the river to find it - at least there we would have a moments relaxation. Here again I was wrong. A "moment" of relaxation is far too generous a term for this spring. On the weekend. The spring was comprised of a couple of pools cemented into the side of a rock face next to the river. At the spring were 4 previously mentioned rat-faced piss-arsed drunks, and in the spring a couple entwined in love-making and oblivious to the people around them. The thing i couldn't work out was that these guys were calling each other "hippie". Where i come from we have another word for this type of person: redneck. I dipped my foot in the spring, scooped out a cigarette butt then headed back to the bus, repulsed. On the way back to the camp I weighed up driving out up the mountain in darkness or staying put. As I approached the camp the pounding from the multitude of amped-up car stereos helped me make up my mind. We headed up the mountain and stopped in an isolated spot, cooked dinner, then spread the blanket out on the dirt to watch the stars. A couple of hours later I was woken by some noise from people camping over the hill from me - i got up and watched the silhouettes of people around a fire. But get this.. in the middle of the dry desert and these morons had a fire blazing twice as tall as me! I made note of the dirt completely surrounding the van before i jumped in and crashed for the night.
Day 23.
Sorry, that was quite a rant back there. We drove back to our desert paradise for one last good memory of the area before heading up and out towards Sedona. By now there was a layer of dust on everything in the van, and my dish sponge was so dirty it was like i was cleaning it by wiping it across a dirty plate. We stopped in at Montezuma's Castle national monument, a 4 level cliff-dwelling high up above the river near Camp Verde. Here Indians lived 700 years ago and mysteriously left 400 years ago (before white man). The place was impressive. Next stop Sedona, home of the worlds four largest energy "vortexes". I can't say that I felt the vibe, but I was overwhelmed by the rugged red topography... this place has got to be on a list of must-see's in the US. Sadly we didn't have the time to stay, and so we headed south and up yet another mountain to the old mining town of Jerome. Jerome was once the 4th largest settlement in arizona, but once the copper mines were exhausted in the 50's it virtually turned into a ghost town overnight. At this point i should mention how I obtained this information, and thank the Jerome class of 46 and 56's "home-coming" - an event so important that the museum opened its doors to the public for free that day!
I locked Forrie up in the van, headed into the oldest family owned saloon in arizona, and met... a bloody Aussie! I was greeted with "a f*#king kiwi!", and felt strangely happy. A few beers later and after meeting the boogie-woogie piano thumping VW driving musician of the night, we headed up over the mountain and into the national forest above Prescott.
