Having found the van that I had deemed suitable (see previous entry about looking for vans, deciding on vans, ruling out vans, picking one and then changing my mind etc) pick-up day had arrived!
I knew it was going to be unlikely I find a decent van on my doorstep, so it was off to Oregon I go. The plan was to fly up first thing on Wednesday morning and drive the van back that same day.
Home –> BART
BART –> SFO
SFO –> EUG
EUG –> Home
The BART station is 1.2 miles from my house as the crow flies, a 3.4-mile car journey or a 2.7-mile walk. Uber wanted $43 for the 6-minute journey (Ubers are fueled by diamonds now??) and so I walked. It was a warm..ish, July morning, (5:30 am though) and I figured the $40 saving would pay for some gas for the drive home. The journey up was pretty uneventful so I won’t bore you with those details.
When I arrived at the dealer, I immediately saw the van and a big grin appeared on my face. I had already paid for a local mechanic to do a basic pre-inspection since I didn’t want to fly up there to see a pile of junk. His report had come back positive…for a 24-year-old van at least. Engine was solid, no leaks, no frame rust, no accident history. Of course, there were a few dents, a bit of flaking paint, and some very light surface rust on a couple of body panels, and the inside wasn’t exactly pristine. Who cared, it was now mine….at least it was after nearly 2.5 hours of paperwork. The sales guy was the son of the owner I think and made mistake after mistake on the forms and I had to keep re-doing…I was getting frustrated, especially since I knew I had a 500-mile journey ahead of me and wanted to get going ASAP.
First few miles down the road and it was time for the van and I to get better acquainted, which I began by stripping some clothes off. Not because I’m a slut but because I discovered the AC didn’t work and was only blowing out of the foot vents. I recognized this as likely to be a vacuum issue and made a mental note of it.
I had the fan on full trying to get a little bit of airflow in the 95-degree heat, but on reflection, I’m not convinced this was a good idea. After 23 years of use, the interior smelled like damp hooker ass.
I stopped a couple of miles up the road to fill up with gas (note to self, get spare keys cut). Managed to maneuver the van to the pump and was happily looking at the directions home when I was asked if I was doing ok, by the attendant. The conversation went something like this
“Are you doing ok there sir? Do you need help?”
“I’m good thanks, I have it under control, although I know there are some states where you can’t pump your own gas and people need help”
“Yes, this is one of those states”
Gulp
“Oh…erm…well”
“No problem, you seem to have it covered”
Feel free to comment on this post and explain this to me. Why can’t you pump your own gas in Oregon??
With a full tank of gas (way cheaper than in CA) I was on my way home. I hadn’t told my gf about the van as I wanted it to be a surprise, and since she was due to come over to mine on Thursday night, I needed to be home on Wednesday…hence the decision to drive all the way home in one go.
Again, hindsight is a wonderful thing and I would liked to have taken some time to explore places I passed on the drive. Mount Shasta, Weed, Shasta Lake to name just a few. Overall the drive home was 536 miles and took a little over 9 hours.
9 hours of heat. 9 hours of hoping I wouldn’t break down. 9 hours of a squeaking above my head that was annoying as F (turned out to be the aging spray foam insulation between the metal frame and fiberglass top). Another thing I found was that the headlights were about as effective as a couple of hungover fireflies. Luckily, modern LED replacements are an easy thing to source. Something else to make a note of.
Also at least 5 hours of the trip was in Oregon where the radio stations were 99% God Squad. I’m not a religious person and despite my attempts, I had very little luck finding anything that wasn’t a sermon, a hymn, or a phone-in confessional.
Forgive me Father for I have sinned, I gave the finger to the Oregon airwaves offering.
Shortly before midnight, I rolled onto my driveway. Exhausted, excited, and happy that I had made it home. The van hadn’t missed a beat. Hallelujah!! Praise the Lord!!