We had just stopped at an overlook when it happened: We parked, got out, walked up the stairs to the overlook perched high up above the desert basin we had just driven across, snapped a few pictures, and returned to the car. Five minutes, tops. We got back in the car and I turned my key to start it. Nothing. It didn't even turn over. I tried again. Nothing. I stared at my sister while taking deep, steadying breaths. I tried a third time. Nothing. My mind raced into overdrive, knowing full well that neither of us had cell service to call for help, but we did have enough food and water to stay with the car until help arrived. My concern was the heat, the hot dry desert heat that I loved but could also kill the stranded motorist. Alisha and I got out of the car at the same time, popping the hood and looking over the engine to try to spot a problem. We had just come to the conclusion that neither of us could see anything wrong when a volunteer national park firefighter happened to drive by the parking lot and we waved our arms madly to get his attention. He gave us a jump and told us to drive right back the way we came, downhill, and go straight to the mechanic shop in town, twenty five miles away. We pulled in to their parking lot and I left my sister in the car with it running while I went in to talk to the owner, but I had barely begun to explain what had happened when Alisha came in, saying the car had stopped on its own. The mechanic ran his tests and it turned out it was either the alternator or the battery, and we could change the battery and hope it fixed the problem, but if it was the alternator we'd be looking at costly repairs and at least two days stuck in a town we didn't know. I opted to try replacing the battery, and what do ya know, it worked! We were on our way, set back by only a few hours, and on our way to the Grand Canyon. The adventure continued.
Leave me a comment below and tell me what your worst fear while travelling is. Is it being stranded without a vehicle, like mine?
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