Diagnosis: Water Pump

Well the car doctor tinkered on the pickup for a few minutes, wiping
away the leaking coplant with a rag before confirming my own
suspicions, water pump. Sitting right behind the cooling fan and fan
clutch that was replaced about 1,000 miles ago, the water pump is
original so its not terribly surprising that it surrendered gracefully
after valiantly fighting some D.C. traffic.
Unfortunately at 180,000 miles there are still quite a few parts on
borrowed time, so let's hope this is the last repair for a while.
I am going a little stir crazy waiting to get on with the trip, but I
read something recently that reminded me of the futility in my
impatience. John Steinbeck made a similar cross country pilgrimage
and recorded his expriences in Travels with Charley, a book that my
friend Rob has been encouraging me to read for years. In it Steinbeck
resigns himself to the truth that "we find after years of struggle
that we do not take a trip, a trip takes us. Tour masters, schedules,
and reservations dash themselves to wreckage on the personality of a
trip. Only when this is recognized can the blown-in-the-glass bum
relax and go along with it."
Well I have dashed myself the past few days wanting to get moving
again but the trip is emerging still. The personality is taking shape
mostly through the brief conversations with gas station clerks and
ladies getting their cars worked on. The Indian families (that's
India) celebrating the July 4 holiday by camping in tents like
Americans do. Conversations overheard about the economy or a family
member in Iraq. The unseasonably cool Virginia weather. So many
little details that don't make up a good blog entry by themselves, but
kind of act like parsley or sprigs of mint on a dish at a fancy
shmansy restaurant. Hope to pass along some more of those as well.

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