Bob needed to go to Vermont to install two sculptures; one at the North Bennington Outdoor Sculpture Show (or NBOSS google it) and another at the Bennington Museum. Despite COVID 19 throwing monkey wrenches into travel plans (like not being able to stay at the motel we typically stay at due to our hailing from a "restricted" part of Connecticut), we decided to go up for the day. Just an efficient whirlwind tour up Route 7, drop the sculptures, maybe eat some lunch and motor home. There are people we like to spend time with in Vermont and other attractions we like to visit (like MassMoca) but many are closed and humans are socially distancing. So it was going to be a no-frills sculpture install.
I drove us up as Bob is The Maestro and I wanted him relaxed and fresh for moving his sculptures. The truck ran like a top and deposited us in front of the North Bennington railroad station, where Bob's entry into last year's show was placed. Bob dismantled his (old) sculpture, unloaded his new sculpture and was going to move the truck across the street... when it wouldn't start. No noise, no nuthin'- just silence. While attempting to maintain a semblance of rationality (and inside screaming, "HOLY FUCKING SHIT!!! How can this be happening?!?!?!"), Bob called AAA and tried to read off a 15 digit number and explain what was up with our truck while a huge freight train rumbled past (great timing! Lots of railway crossing clanging and that long lonesome wail of the train's whistle). I meanwhile jiggled some wires and Hey presto! The truck turned over and we drove it across the street to the new location for Bob's new sculpture. (*2)
At this point, we were still awaiting AAA. Bob had the sculpture to install and our friend Andy (another sculptor from Connecticut, also in the show) arrived and between him and Joe (the curator of the show and a big fan of Bob's) they made quick work of setting up Bob's piece. I bought lunch somehow hoping that refueling us would magically cure the truck, or at least temporarily lift our flagging spirits.
AAA arrived and pronounced our starter a non-starter but managed to pop the clutch and get the truck started after Andy and Bob pushed the truck with the AAA guy driving (*1). The AAA man helpfully told us, "Don't turn it off. Just keep it running." I'm thinking, "Let's just get in the truck and fucking drive home..." but Bob had yet to load the old sculpture and install the one at the museum. I for one was not having a good day.
But we did eat lunch and Andy and Joe graciously suggested that THEY would take Bob's sculpture to the Museum and install it (apparently that show was on a hill in a field behind the museum. There was no way we were going to drive up there, risk stalling the truck and have to call AAA to some outlandish hillside pasture location). So good friends to the rescue! Three cheers for fellow sculptors!
I told Bob that I'd drive home, thinking that my nerves were so bloody frayed that at least driving would focus me and maybe I wouldn't completely melt down.
Long story short is that we made it. We didn't stop for anything (luckily, we needed neither gas nor a bathroom break) but I didn't breathe easy until we turned into our driveway. The truck is now at the garage for repairs. Guess what? The truck started on the first try this morning so it's probably not the starter, but a wire or connection. Hahahahaaha!
And if you're squeamish, skip the picture below, because it's not just lawn mowers and trucks that are red and shiny. How about my festering flesh?
(*1) I myself became expert at doing this when I drove Triumphs and MGs all those years ago. This is one of the many beauties of standard shift vehicles.
(*2) The further irony here is that Bob had taken the ruck to be serviced the day before. He had had an oil change and an "all points check". Battery good, truck seemed fine and ready to go, so this wasn't some kind-of-expected "oh we should have maintained it better" episode.
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