A valuable lesson in learning to make lemonade

STEVE SMITH

On Feb. 23, 1987, my wife and I boarded a plane on a major airline to

take us from John Wayne Airport to the Lake Tahoe Airport. It was to

be the start of our honeymoon -- a week of skiing and playing in the

mountains.

But on the way from our stop in San Jose, the pilot told us that

it was snowing too hard in Lake Tahoe and that we would be diverted

to Reno, where buses would take us up the mountain.

Upon hearing the news, the passengers let out a group groan at the

thought of the inconve-

nience of driving up to Tahoe in a bus. After all, these people

paid a premium to fly directly to the slopes.

My wife and I, however, were overjoyed. We planned our wedding and

honeymoon for the third week of February so we could lock in on the

prime skiing conditions. Every year but one, we have hit the jackpot.

We came to ski and the news that it was snowing was music to our

ears. When the plane landed, I went to collect our bags. My wife

disappeared, returning moments before the bus was to depart.

In her arms were sandwiches, chips and beer. While I was getting

the bags, she was making lemonade out of the lemons we’d been handed.

On the way up the hill, we had a two-person party on the bus. “I

wish we’d thought of that” was a common refrain from our fellow

passengers.

Now it’s April 4, 2004, and our family of four is scooting up

Highway 80 outside of Sacramento on our way to squeeze in a couple

more days of skiing before the snow melts. But 25 miles outside of

Truckee, where we would have turned off for Tahoe, there is smoke

pouring out of the back of the minivan.

I pulled over immediately and quickly diagnosed the problem as a

transmission fluid leak. Our options were limited because we were in

the middle of nowhere, but with the help of Cindy Helm, a highway

patrol officer whose service makes you feel happy to pay your state

taxes, we had a flatbed tow truck delivered to us.

While we waited, Roy and I played catch with our baseball gloves

and a baseball on the side of the road. Cay spoke to Cindy (turns out

she lived in Huntington Beach for a time) and Kaitlyn read her book.

The flatbed tow truck was crucial to the success of our mission

for the family is allowed to ride in the car while it is on top of

the flatbed. No law against it. I rode in front with the driver,

Troy, to make sure we got exactly where we needed to go.

Without this type of tow, we would have been forced to go back to

Colfax or Auburn, spend the night and regroup in the morning. Nothing

against Colfax or Auburn, but they were not where we wanted to go.

According to the family, the view of the snowcapped peaks from the

van atop the tow truck was stunning. They sang songs all the way to

Lake Tahoe, just happy to be getting to our original destination.

During our four days in Tahoe, I nursed the minivan wherever we

went. We skied at Northstar, shopped at Truckee and the kids

bungee-jumped at Squaw Valley. The van ran just fine. In fact, apart

from the original quart of transmission fluid I added, it has not

needed another drop.

But now it’s Thursday. We’re in Reno for two nights and facing the

500-mile trip home on Saturday down Highway 395. Five hundred miles

is not a short trip to town, so the van is being inspected at a

transmission shop and I’m awaiting the news of the estimate.

We’ve kept all of our options open. I’ve paid a visit to a car

dealership to inquire about buying another vehicle in case the van’s

estimate is out of sight. There’s even a rental car waiting for us on

hold in case we decide to wait for the purchase until we get home.

We don’t know what the next two days will bring. We have done as

much as we can to get a handle on the situation and now the chips

have to fall where they may.

Through it all, I’m amazed at the spirit of this family, even by

our two kids, who have taken everything in stride. They got that from

their mother, who is really good at making lemonade.

* STEVE SMITH is a Costa Mesa resident and a freelance writer.

Readers may leave a message for him on the Daily Pilot hotline at

(949) 642-6086.