CAMPSITE # 15 - Could we ALREADY be at the end of the open road?

You can thank your lucky stars, the original blogger has returned, I'm sure you're all sick of Bruce's lies about my abilities and have reminded yourselves after having read his blogs that I am not actually as useless as he likes to portray :)

Unfortunately though, I wish I could return with better news...

Today... Charlie was admitted into intensive care.

It could very well be terminal. After overwhleming amounts of clouds of white smoke, boiling hot & sizzling coolant and two extremely concerned owner occupiers.

Bugger.

Tonight, we sit with all of our fingers & toes & eyes crossed that he will be ok. I wanted to jump out of the car and shake the mechanic, and tell him to pull his head in and that in all of my mechanical experience, I was absolutely certain that he was wrong, he had to be wrong, pleeeeease God let him be wrong.. but so it seems he wasn't.

We've blown a head gasket.

Bugger.

... oh crap... that's definitely not cool. Not good at all... All I heard echoing in the back of my head "Cha Ching!!!" as we now find ourselves digging VERY deep into the travelling fund of at least $2000 down the drain IF they can replace it... $5000+ plus if they can't and we have to replace the engine. We wait over the next 48 hours to hear the news, while we contemplate what the bloody hell we would do should we get that telephone call that we would need to replace the engine..

The last four weeks we (and by we I of course mean - Tom) have been absolutely meticiously checking the water & oil levels & brake fluid & clutch of all of the ins and outs of Charlie's bellie. I was certain that once we hit the road, Charlie would just know that it was time to kick into gear and purr his way around Oz. The mechanic seemed to think that as the Troopie is a vintage piece of machinery, it could have been an issue that stirred from a long time ago and has gradually been building ever since. In a nutshell, competely unfortunate and absolutely out of our control.

Bugger.

To find a saving grace amongst all of this, well you just wouldn't think it existed. But... 

 1. Thankfully we were close enough to town to crawl our way to a highly recommended mechanic in Yass.

2. Having family 45mins drive in Canberra is absolutely amazing. Uncle Bruce and Aunty Cheryl have come riding in on their white horse and put us up for a few days - at least until we figure out what the G.O is.

3. Now this one.. is an absolute must. Before we left, we paid the two hundred and something dollars and signed ourselves up for RACQ's (aka NRMA's) Ultimate care. We now have a hire car, at no extra cost, to drive around until the Troopie is fixed (while those fingers, toes & eyes are crossed) which is perfect so we can still wander around on an explore... just nowhere near as comfortable or organised. If you drive alot or are planning a big trip... you would be bonkers not to sign up for this. We also get roadside assist for up to 200km from the closest RACQ registered mechanic at no extra charge AND 200km of towing at no extra charge. I'm flying the flag for RACQ right now and am soooooo thankful we did it... afterall I certainly would not have enjoyed jumping on a pleb wagon to get to Canberra after today's debacle!!! 

Tomorrow is national cross your fingers for the Troopie day... 

Now, we wait. Tonight we will find ourselves sleeping in a lovely warm and snuggly bed, after being fed a glorious home cooked. Bruce has prowled on our weaker moments and is attempting to sway Tom's religious beliefs (aka AFL team of choice.) I have warned Tom that I am currently holding his ticket into this country and that he will very quickly be disowned by the rest of my family for allowing the below photo to be taken but still, he must be unclear were his loyalties lie...

Bugger.

There's hope for the Troopie but none for Tom.