The GM repair shop in Siloam Springs
We said goodbye to my sister in Lincoln and headed toward Tulsa on scenic rolling country roads. It wasn't long before climbing or simply moving forward became nearly impossible. Again. After creeping, stopping, lurching, flashers flashing—with no shoulder to speak of—we unhitched and continued on in like manner, with me following in the car.
Fortune smiled and we hit Siloam Springs. Smiled again after two futile stops elsewhere, and let us roll across a screamingly busy highway into the GM dealership and repair. The cleanest most sparkling garage I've ever seen. Also efficient, competant and honorable. Thus we continued our exploration of oh-dear-what-can-the-matter-be, in conjunction with our in-depth tour of some of the most hospitable repair facilities in the eastern and central U.S.
Of course a thorough study of our problem and the facility cannot be conducted without an overnight stay in the parking lot, so stay we did. I might mention that it was hot hot hot, and being plugged in to 10 amps does not allow for air conditioning. Still, a pleasant night all in all.
Next morning, having tried everything and being honest and considerate, Glen sent us to Gentry, to Ben, who knew his stuff and had no shiny floor, no restroom, no tv, coke or snack machine in the waiting room. No waiting room at all. But Elvis, Phuphuu, Sam and I were grateful for some shade. I read Green Mansions, drank water, and occasionally untangled the 3 dog leashes tied to a tree.
Andre sweltered with Ben, who found and solved the problem (deja vu? Please cross your fingers with us from here on): a slightly too large fuel filter, disintegrating and collapsing on itself due to drygas and methanol(?) in the gas, compressed by a spring, thus blocking gas flow.
Although I did a cursory examination of the premises looking for the best overnight spot, we were destined instead to get back on the road and roll in to Tulsa late thursday afternoon.
Fortune smiled and we hit Siloam Springs. Smiled again after two futile stops elsewhere, and let us roll across a screamingly busy highway into the GM dealership and repair. The cleanest most sparkling garage I've ever seen. Also efficient, competant and honorable. Thus we continued our exploration of oh-dear-what-can-the-matter-be, in conjunction with our in-depth tour of some of the most hospitable repair facilities in the eastern and central U.S.
Of course a thorough study of our problem and the facility cannot be conducted without an overnight stay in the parking lot, so stay we did. I might mention that it was hot hot hot, and being plugged in to 10 amps does not allow for air conditioning. Still, a pleasant night all in all.
Next morning, having tried everything and being honest and considerate, Glen sent us to Gentry, to Ben, who knew his stuff and had no shiny floor, no restroom, no tv, coke or snack machine in the waiting room. No waiting room at all. But Elvis, Phuphuu, Sam and I were grateful for some shade. I read Green Mansions, drank water, and occasionally untangled the 3 dog leashes tied to a tree.
Andre sweltered with Ben, who found and solved the problem (deja vu? Please cross your fingers with us from here on): a slightly too large fuel filter, disintegrating and collapsing on itself due to drygas and methanol(?) in the gas, compressed by a spring, thus blocking gas flow.
Although I did a cursory examination of the premises looking for the best overnight spot, we were destined instead to get back on the road and roll in to Tulsa late thursday afternoon.
posted by Susan at 12:32 AM
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