While I'd been to Sunrise several times in as many summers, I hadn't driven that serpentine route in 40 years. And I hadn't had the Artmobile--a 2002 GMC Safari van--that far off-I-5 since I'd purchased it two months ago. It was a test, for both of us. We both passed, but barely. Thursday afternoon, I crossed the parking lot from
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| My acrylic painting of The Spar |
seemed to worsen by 5, so I headed down the mountain to see if Gary had arrived at the campground.
On the way I skirted a half-dozen sand-and-small-rock slides. Since this was only two days since a record 2-inches-in-12-hours rainfall, I imagined the slides were indicative of the bathtub beginning to fill. I was mindful of the Oso mudslide last spring. I decided I wouldn't be coming back up that hairpinny road on Friday.
Besides, I learned something about GMC's cost-saving design. Although I had geared down to second and sometimes first gear in the automatic transmission, I used the brakes a lot. With years of experience in Wyoming and Montana, I consider myself a careful mountain driver, not one to overheat the brakes. But on the first hairpin turn--like a U-turn into the next lane--I found the brakes okay but the power steering absent. So the first turn found me making a wider-than-comfortable turn that took me to the edge of the pavement. Two more hairpins to go. On each I came to a full stop, then eased the brake and found I had a bit more wheel in the turns.
I had known the power-steering pump would be needing replacement soon, but the mechanic had assured me it would give me plenty of notice before that time. This obviously was that notice. I found Gary under a rain-hammered tarp in camp beside the White River. I told him I was heading down the hill while I had some steering left. I had no driving trouble the rest of the way into Tacoma, despite the persistent rain.
Next morning, I had the pump replaced. The mechanic said it was a surprise to him to learn that GMC uses only one pump in this model van to power-boost both the brakes and steering. Its capacity was down, so on those hairpins I had enough full power for one, or the other--not both.
At 5 Friday evening, I was so delighted to have the Artmobile back in safe condition, and only for the price of an arm, not a leg too, that I took my acrylic paints down to Old Town. I hadn't painted with these in three years, using oil pastels in the mountains and then watercolors, until June, when I lurched into oils for the first time. I set up in front of The Spar tavern and painted a 16x20-inch canvas. I presented it next morning to Kathy Manke, queen of The Spar, who promised to find a place to hang it. (Probably in a broom closet--the walls seem filled, already.)
