Day 4 - Hays KS

"Tomorrow we will wake up and drive to Denver."

That's how I ended my journaling last night.

I do a lot of thinking about progress, and I frequently condemn myself for living in the future instead of the present. I do a lot of thinking about whether everything that happens has a deeper reason or whether some things are arbitrarily beneficial or unfortunate.

We slept in until a decent hour and hit up a Kansas City Chick-fil-a. I was driver this morning and I drove halfway across the beautiful rolling plains of Kansas. Lots of majestic wind turbine things and oil pumps and buffalo and middle-America things. Hours later we stopped at a Flying J right off of I-70, the road we've become well acquainted with for quite some time. Stepping back into the car after pumping gas I noticed an obnoxious smell, but I kind of blew it off, thinking that maybe I simply didn't notice it when I was inside the car because I had become immune to it. When Paul and Mike got back into the car, they noticed it also. They were more determined to get to the bottom of this problem (thankfully) and started to push bags and food and pillows around. Paul saw that his $60 pillow was burnt and that someone had left the seat warmer on, which actually ended up burning right through the seat. So now one of our back seats has two large burn marks on it. The plastic is brown from catching fire and melting.

Ticked about the situation, we pushed onward to Denver, Paul driving now. We're coming up to a police unit on the highway that is moving relatively slowly. He motions to us to pass him in the right lane, so Paul steps on the gas. Right as he does so, the Audi begins shaking so Paul hits his four-ways and pulls to the side of the road. The cop pulled off as well, but then got right back on the road, leaving us in the dust without even checking on us. So we're disturbed by the flashing check engine light and stuck in the flatlands of rural Kansas, 300 miles from any of our contacts. We try driving again, thinking that perhaps the check engine light was just an electronic malfunction, but the car began to shake again. After making a few phone calls and just waiting it out for awhile, we took a risk by driving four miles to the next exit. As we were pulling into an auto shop right off of the interstate, we saw the guy inside laughing at us. He told us to go downtown (haha, downtown Ellis....right....) where we would find Ellis Auto Repair. We waited inside talking with Patti, the secretary (her busband is the mechanic). The problem was finally discovered, but we were not able to get the part today. They told us that they could make some calls tomorrow to get the part in, but there are still no solid promises. The only other option is to drive 200+ miles in the reverse direction of Denver to pick up the part at an Audi dealership (which would only be open tomorrow, anyway).

I made a few calls to churches from the town of Ellis (thanks to the help of Danika), but they all lead to answering machines. I did, however get the number of Father Curtis from St. Mary's Church who, according to the answering machine, was only to be called in "emergency situations such as a sacrificial anointment or death." Thinking that three young males with a broken down car in need of a place to stay was an equally worthy cause, I dialed the father's number. He was receptive to our situation, partly out of obligation I assume. I explained that we were from Messiah College and traveling and asked if any members of his congregation would be willing to take us in for a night. He said he'd check into it and call me back, but when he called back he said he wouldn't want to risk anything in times like today, but he recommended staying at the truck stop area or calling one of the Hays cab companies (using the numbers he provided me). I thanked him for his help, kind of wishing that he had invited us over so that I could put an end toward the bitterness of Catholicism that I've been brought up on.

Patti said she would drive us to Hays where we could get a hotel room. Paul called his dad, who somehow booked us a hotel room at a Holiday Inn for free. That's where I am now. It's funny, ya know. The Audi has caused so many problems, but we've been blessed because of it's downfall. Then Paul's mom called him and I answered cuz he was in the shower in our room. She said that it's best that we broke down, maybe, because today Denver got seven inches and all that.

The only problem is the unknown, which in all reality is what makes life interesting anyway. In fact, I'd rather be on a trip where I couldn't anticipate anything. This is a good break from things going according to plan. Life is not systematic, and that is why it is beautiful.

So we're here indefinitely, at the Holiday Inn. We have three days until we can't be here for free. Tomorrow we will wait for Patti's call about whether they can get the part for the Audi shipped in within the day. If the answer is yes, we will be back on the road soon. If the answer is no, I kind of want to take a Greyhound back to Topeka and pick up the part we need at an Audi dealership. The other option is to rent a car for a day and do that. Either way, we should be out of here by Wednesday at the latest. I mean, I know Paul would probably like to spend Christmas with his family in Denver. I would like to also. Mike's probably itching to snowboard and probably pretty disappointed that we are missing out on that currently. Hopefully a more local warehouse or auto place has what we need and can get it to us soon. By soon, I mean that tomorrow morning would be extremely convenient. But life is life, you know. You just gotta take what it feeds you and be blessed. After all, Paul got to wear his speedo in the hotel pool and we have plenty of food for the next few days. Plus access to all that pornography that we can charge to Paul's dad's credit card. I'm kidding, mom, don't judge me. We're good kids. I swear it. Just trying to give you a heart attack....

In other news, footage from our first day on the road:



300 miles from anyone Paul knows and maybe a thousand from anyone I know feels ok, actually. Just because I'm not in the comfort of security doesn't mean something is missing. If you ask me, something is gained. You learn the most in your vulnerability. Why does our culture make it so hard to cope with our existance when we live in the unknown? Our immediate solution is to seek that which we are used to (i.e. the comfort of your own room, like a hotel).