Jilted by the Jeep

The day the Jeep tricked us again was the day my brother asked if I had quit driving. In all my writings, I never mentioned going anywhere by myself. He was right about that. I generally tag along whenever John runs errands, because I love to wander through stores and look at the mountain scenery on the way.

We had been rescued three times, the first when we stopped by the stream above Looking Glass Falls. Rain began to fall as the temperature dropped, and it took hours for the tow truck to come. The local mechanic replaced the ignition switch. The second time the starter motor was replaced at a rest stop in Virginia. Luckily, the third time we were stranded at the Asheville airport AFTER Lise boarded her flight returning to Denmark. Being in the cab of a tow truck became a familiar event.

A few days ago we took the Jeep to the dealer for a factory recall on the ignition. At least, this time there was no cost involved. Each time before, we trusted that the problem had been solved. Thrice burned, we used the vehicle for local errands only. John called from Clyde, the next town over, where he had been for a doctor’s appointment. I drove the round trip to fetch him. We left the silly Jeep in the parking lot and returned to try starting it the next morning before the rains came. Neither of us had faith that it would start. John was armed with reading material, planning to stay there until AAA responded. He unlocked the car, got in, shook his head, and opened the door to get out. I suggested he try it at least 5 times. I had Googled the problem and read that many people tried starting theirs 15 times before giving up. I wouldn’t have blamed him if he rolled his eyes, but he dutifully got in and tried the key a second time. Up went his thumb! The Jeep finally jumped to do his bidding. Without further ado, we drove home. How lovely it was to settle in for the rest of the day, watching the rain while sitting in front of our respective computers! Thank you, Jippy Jeep.