So I picked her up from work, driving her by her house so she could get some clothes... and adding a couple of hours of rush-hour traffic to an already long drive. But positively, said traffic gave me a chance to learn that my horn wasn't working, so while Lis packed a bag I cannibalized my already-dead alarm system to McGuiver my horn into working. Then, on the way through Maryland the alternator belt started squealing worse than my little brother. Luckily, that's a thing my car does, so I knew how to fix it! We stopped for dinner - during which I bought a pair of pliers, tightened the bolt, and called it a day. A few hours later it happened again, only differently. The AC gave up, quickly followed by the power steering. I got off the turnpike, popped the hood, and found that the bolt I had tightened decided it didn't want to live in my car, and would rather retire to PA. I called AAA, but apparently the turnpike people won't let tow-trucks in, not even on the ramps outside the toll booths. Hearing this, I decided to take my chances and try to move it. It started! WOOO! I thought about just getting off the ramp and calling back, but we were rolling so we figured we might as well try for a car shop. It's 10 o'clock, everything's closed. We set off for Lowes: Closed. Home depot: Closed.... but there were people out. I threw myself on their mercy and they took pity on me - I bought a bolt/nut, a mini adjustable wrench, and some gloves so I could avoid touching the exhaust headers (I grabbed them once, years ago, and my plasticized skin made me rue said decision for months).
After I got everything bolted in place I went to hook the belt... and found its tattered remains instead. The home depot guys helped me check the tractor belts and directed me to the nearest car parts shop, but it was not to be. We got the gps to send us to the nearest hotel and, lights dimming, pulled in. We got a room for the night (WITH A TRIPLE A DISCOUNT MOM AREN'T YOU PROUD!).
In the morning a local repair shop rethreaded the alternator, replaced the belt, and we were back on our way. Breaking our drive into two hunks really wasn't that bad, and thankfully Lis was super-patient with me. By the time we got to Montreal we'd missed qualifying, but there's worse things. Such as not having hotel reservations: the hotel couldn't find ours. We drove around the block a few times, decided it must be the right hotel, and used their lobby computer to pull up our reservation number. They still couldn't find our room, but they found our payment, which got us a room on the ground floor (woo cane!). We ditched our stuff, changed into nicer clothes, and set off to find an ATM before dinner. The closest bank was not there, the next closest was inside a closed campus center, the third inside a closed mall. We finally got directions to an ATM, but it refused my cards. Worn out, we decided to grab a bite somewhere close and crash for the night. We selected a nearby pub on the GPS, and then marveled that it was taking us so far to dive to a pub that was so close.
It turns out, the tide that is my luck had changed. We were directed across the river to old-town Montreal. We found close parking that was, when we checked the meter, free on weekends. We walked down the closed cobble-stone street and a table opened up streetside. We ate (I tried escargot and vastly preferred my steak), we split a bottle of wine, and we watched the myriad of people walking past. It was awesome. After dinner (luckily they took credit cards) we wandered the gift shops, f1 store, bars, asked waiters for news on qualifying, found ATMs that worked... it was awesome.
The next day our luck held! It's only fair, we had a lot to make up for. We drove the quarter mile to the metro out of deference to my bum leg, parked, and trained over a stop to the island where we grabbed our tickets. Not too long after we set up our chairs in the shade just past the hairpin and turn 11 and began the day's task: The ever-important job of cheating the chairs in front of you up slightly every time they leave so that you have an awesome view come race-time. We got to our seats just in time to watch (on the screen) a mini flip (the driver walked away shaking his head dejectedly) during a warm-up race - ironically after I'd convinced Lis to buy a mini on the trip up... she says that as a girl, she didn't recognize it as a mini until weeks later. We cheered for our drivers (and Kobayashi was less confused and actually smiled when we saw our flag this year). After the Ferraris (which sound soooo good) and Porsches went around, it was finally time for the F1 race.... right after twin flyovers. Flyovers are awesome. I can't hear a flyover and not smile. Then the race cars went past. I can't hear a f1 engine without smiling either. It was a good day.
None-the-less, earplugs went in. Some of our neighbors who had turned down earplugs before the formation lap reconsidered and I passed out a dozen of 'em. The race was brilliant. Kobayashi put in a solid drive, but we were distracted by the front of the field, where 6 different drivers fought to be the first to win two races this season. Around us, South Americans, Europeans, and Canadians spoke at least 4 different languages while being a huge family. Within this family of Formula 1 they shared food and drink with one another, offering cheap beer, fine cheese, even salami and crackers regardless of who you were cheering for. Out on the track Lewis Hamilton (the good guy) gave up the lead to pit an extra time for new tires. With 17 laps left, Lewis needed clean laps and his opponents' grip to deteriorate. As I listened to the radio commentators announcing his successively fastest laps he began closing the gap with brutal efficiency. He pulled out the win, sailing past the lead cars - moves he kindly began right in front of us. I'm sure my screaming helped.
After the race we walked down to the track, squeezed some of the tire-rubber which is almost gum-like in texture, and got blocked in by a closed gate that turned a short-cut into a long cut. A mile and a very welcome free Dr Pepper later we ended up in line for the metro, which was slow, hot, and possibly just as bad as it was last year in the rain. At least McLaren had won though, if I had to stand next to all those Ferrari fans after a loss...
The trip home was pretty uneventful. We finally made it home around 1am, my car didn't break down, and Lis even made it to work on time. All in all, a successful weekend.
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