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Monday, 05/12/03; Grandy, North Carolina – Day One
Where in the Heck is Grandy?
Note: If you have been following our travels on a regular basis, you may be wondering by this time what happened to us. Did we fall off the face of the earth? No, we are still here and as you read the Grandy letters you will understand that we have been incommunicado because there was no Internet connection possible, as our motel rooms did not have telephones. KRS 05/18/03
If you have an AAA map of the state of North Carolina and locate State Route 158 on the east coast of North Carolina, just below the Virginia border, you might find a little dot with “Grandy” near it – that’s where we are! But why are we here? We are supposed to be in the environs of Williamsburg, Virginia! Well, that’s a story, so listen to this tale.
We left Hatteras about 0730, as it was only a drive of 90 minutes to Kitty Hawk where we wanted to stop to see the Wright Brothers Memorial. We arrived there shortly after the park opened after a very interesting drive over desolate sand dunes and through few hamlets of great character. It was a new experience for us all and very absorbing.
The museum at the Memorial was closed for renovation in preparation for the Centennial celebration later this year. This was a disappointment to all of us. However, a few of the displays were set up in a temporary location and we were able to view a video on the Wright Brothers. Keith felt that since this was advertised as the Centennial Year of Flight, the displays should have been prepared in advance of the year and not of the actual celebration of the First Flight in December of this year. Bad, and typical government planning! A couple of new buildings (if they could be called that – they looked like space-age tents) had been erected. It is not clear if they are only temporary, or are hiding some new buildings. They are very modern and totally out of place in this site celebrating a turn of the twentieth century event. Again, more bungled government activity! We were able to view replicas of the Brothers’ final camp and see a replica of the track on which they launched their historic flights on 17 December 1903. In order to preserve the site, the government has planted vegetation – trees and grasses to stabilize the sand, so it doesn’t look like it did in those historic days. In addition, a modern airport with control tower has been provided for the fly-in tourist. It is not very obtrusive, as it is separated from the first flight site by a stand of pine. We peeked into the open door of the museum and were able get a glimpse of replicas of the 1902 glider and the 1903 powered flying machine. Then we were away – for Hampton or Williamsburg, whichever had the best selection of cheap motels.
About 40 miles north of Kill Devil Hills, Dennis, who was in the lead announced they were pulling over for a car problem. And a real problem it was! When we listened to the engine it was really clattering! Dennis had detected a pronounced clicking sound earlier and had thought that it was a loose valve lifter. He had planned to adjust it at the first opportunity. There was no doubt that we had big time trouble! We were in the drive of a filling station/mini market and the owner was quite kind and helpful. (He and his 12-year-old son are starting on a transcontinental bicycling trip this Friday – on a tandem bicycle!) He gave us information on the locality regarding motels (really none within 30 miles!), restaurants (again, not much!) and repair facilities – “Henry’s Garage” about six or seven miles north).
Dennis and Keith drove to Henry’s Garage to check it out. The owner would not be in until 1300 and this was 1100. The mechanic on duty said we could tow the car there if we wanted to, but he wasn’t certain if they could get on the repair, as they were loaded with work. Dennis wanted to do the repair himself, if possible, but was told the owner would not permit that. Since we were in the middle of nowhere, we knew it would take some time to get a tow truck. The mechanic said there was a towing outfit in “town.” But we couldn’t find it and when we inquired we found that it wasn’t AAA. Dennis called AAA and they eventually said they would have a tow truck there in about 45 minutes. Meanwhile, we were torn as to where to take the car.
Away we go -- on a tow truck!
Dennis inquired of the station owner if the next-door property might be available to do the work. It had plenty of shade and lots of room. This prompted the owner of the station to take Dennis about one-quarter-mile down the road to a two-stall garage and tire shop where the owner said that he would rent Dennis a stall. We still didn’t know where to stay. There was supposedly a motel up near Henry’s -- the Riviera Motel. We called and were informed they were full. While all manner of conversations were going on amongst us a local man standing nearby and admiring our cars, remarked, “I have a garage and a couple of guest rooms you can use.” Dennis hopped into the truck with this man and drove off to see what and where it was. When he came back, we decided to take Bill up on his kind offer. When the tow truck arrived (about two hours later), we all went to Bill's place met the family and dogs and pushed the car into the garage (which had hurriedly been “cleaned up” for the occasion). The garage was ample and had lots of equipment and tools that might come in handy (floor jack and jack stands). So we got to work.
The rooms were in a guest cottage beside the garage and we would have to use the bathroom in Bill’s house. We felt we would really be imposing on the generosity of these fine people, so we tried once again to see if the Riviera Motel had some room (once we explained our situation) or might be able to accommodate us the next day, at least. The Motel manger said they could help us out, but they would not have the room ready until after 1700. That suited us fine.
Bill's front yard, our hosts' home
Dennis first removed the valve cover to see if the valve lifter was in any way involved. It wasn’t. Next he dropped the oil pan and he immediately sighted the source of the noise. The number two connecting rod bearing was coming apart!
No. 2 cap with chip
Many large pieces of babbitt could be seen in the oil pan. Keith put in a call to Jay Steel, our engine builder in Whittier, California. Jay said he could ship us a new rod with a newly poured bearing, if we could give him the dimension of the crankshaft. We said we would call him the next morning with that information. We called Jim Baker, our friend and fellow club member in Virginia, to inform him of our plight and let him know we would be delayed in seeing him.
Keith packed up the girls and some of the luggage in the rear of the Victoria and off we went ten miles north to the Riviera Motel. It was getting late and the manager said we should come to the back of the motel, to his living quarters, as the office would be closed. We drove into the motel parking lot. The motel comprised about ten units. It was dusk and the porch lights were on. We went to the back and Keith aroused the manager. He said to meet him at the front door, which we did. He opened the door a crack and called out, “I can’t leave the door open as the mosquitoes will eat me up!” He was correct in that regard! Some escorted us into our rooms and Keith was about to tip them for carrying in the bags, but Joann said that would be carrying things too far!
Covered for the night...our motel
This motel is really a strange situation; we call the first time and they have no vacancies. The next time we call, they have rooms that can be made ready later in the day. Yet when we arrive, the “no vacancy” sign is in the window and we are the only customers! We speculate on all sorts of scenarios: from this is a fishing camp and it is off-season, to this is a front for laundering drug money.
After getting the gals situated in their rooms, Keith departed to pick up Dennis and then bring back some dinner for everyone. Back down the highway went the Victoria trying to do the ten miles in ten minutes. On the way down, Keith looked for places to eat. He saw Mel’s Diner and it looked like a good bet. It took Dennis about 30 minutes to clean up and collect most of the Olsons things not taken on the first trip owing to space limitations. When we got to Mel’s he was closed. In fact Keith missed it on the first pass as the lights were out on the sign. We went back to confirm that it was indeed closed – it was! We knew that Becky’s Country Kitchen – very near the garage in which Dennis was working was closed on Mondays, so we didn’t even try there. The only place we could find that looked open was a Mexican restaurant. We went in and ordered four take-out dinners. While we were there, we contacted the girls by cell phone – the rooms at the Riviera have no phones (so don’t expect this story until we get back into modern civilization!). Whoops! We had missed some of the required Olson luggage, which had been unpacked into the guesthouse. Back down the road (five miles) and then back ten more to the motel where we all sat around in the Smith’s room to dine on our Mexican cuisine. We all enjoy good Mexican food. This was barely tolerable, being frozen and rapidly “nuked” in a microwave. It was a fitting end to a rather unfortunate day.
What will tomorrow bring? Will the crankshaft throw be scored and require a new engine to continue our adventurous journey? Will Dennis find a micrometer to measure the crankshaft? Will the mosquitoes carry one of us off to their lairs to feed us to their offspring? Will we find a place to eat? Whatever the day brings, we will go to bed knowing that there are good, generous people in this part of the US who care for others in ways we had come to believe were a thing of the past. Grandy, North Carolina may be just the place for 1930’s cars and people who care for such things. The buildings are old and some run down, but some of the people, at least, have the qualities of generosity and mercy, which we have fond memories of when we think of our childhood.
Tired, disappointed, but still,
Undaunted
