re: Any good vehicle breakdown stories while on vacation?

Not exactly a breakdown, but one thrilling ride to the shop ! I’m driving a 1970 Porsche 911T in the CO mountains in the late 70’s. The throttle locked wide open. Almost a hundred mile to a Porsche mechanic on winding roads; key on, key off. Max acceleration to coast & brake.
Turned out to be a very minor carburetor issue. The mechanic could not believe I came down that road. For the youngsters, google carburetor:-)

Mid 60's our family car needed a new alternator in Kittery, Maine. Barely made it to a full service gas station and met the mechanic there who was from New Iberia, LA and distant relative to dad. Fixed and gone in an hour.

Those are some great stories. Could be a movie.

Thats awesome.


Baw status approved

We were driving a suburban back from Yellowstone on a Friday afternoon. Were on I-80 in Wyoming between Laramie and Cheyenne, almost exactly half way, when i noticed that the a/c compressor stopped and the dash gauges went dead. There was a single exit up ahead with a gas station at the top of a hill, so we pulled off. When we got to the gas station the engine died. And everything was dead.

We went inside and there were two guys there, the station attendant and a tow truck driver who had a large flatbed tow truck parked outside. We called our insurance for roadside assistance and the two guy said that if the insurance company was going to cover a tow, they would call him because he was the only tow on that stretch of highway. We went back to the Suburban and figured out that the battery was dead, and it looked like the problem was likely a dead alternator. I called dealerships and garages in Laramie and Cheyanne but no one would take us that late on a Friday afternoon, especially since either town was an hour away. After about a half hour the tow guy got the call so we put the suburban on the truck.

Tow guy said he knew a guy in Cheyenne who would probably help us out so we loaded the kids into the tow truck and took off for Cheyenne. We got to the outskirts of Cheyenne around 8:30, and pulled into a private garage full of stock race cars. There were guys replacing suspensions and doing all kind of stuff to these cars. It was the coolest garage I’d ever been to. Also spotless. The guy there that the tow driver called had run to AutoZone before it closed at 8:00 and picked up a new alternator. He swapped them out in about 20 minutes and hooked the battery to the charger. Car fired right up, ready to go. He had one of those little cube dongles for his iPhone and swiped my credit card. He charged cost for the alternator and $100 for his trouble. Totally fair deal. I would have paid twice that. And we went back on our merry way to Louisiana.

UGA roommate is on vacation with his family in Montana or Wyoming and the head gasket blows on his vehicle. Ended up buying a new car.

I had a flat tire in the Sureway parking lot in Grand Isle once.

When I was a kid, we were on vacation out west. Start hearing a clicking from somewhere in the front end. Take it to a dealer in Albuquerque and sit around a hotel for three days while they try to find the source. Finally they say they can't find the cause, so don't go over 50 in case the wheel falls off. We crawl home across Texas at 50mph. When we get home, our local dealer finds a loose speedometer cable, tightens it up and no more clicking.

Grandparents take my two sisters and I on a trip throughout
the west. We stop at Colorado Springs and head to Pikes Peak. Get to the top and my grandfather locks the keys in the family truckster (Dodge Stationwagon). We get back to the car and my GD grabs a rock and tries to break the little window in the driver and front passenger side (can't remember the name of em). Can't break the damn thing. Parked next to us a man who saw our peril and reached in his trunk and pulled out a hammer. My GD breaks the window and off down the mountain we go. We get back to our motel room and he calls a local glass company, and we cruise on over to get the window replaced. We pull into the bay and in about an hour or so they fix it, and we are ready to roll. He backs out of the bay a side swipes the side of the building on the passenger side. My grandfather never showed us much anger in the time he was alive, but he could have cussed the pope after that escapade.

Leaving New Orleans one Sunday morning a few years back, my buddy curbed the car and popped a tire. We were getting ready to put the spare on when some dude rides up on a kids' bicycle with a Bud Light tall boy and a hydraulic jack. He let us use the jack, and we bought him breakfast at Perkins while we waited for the shop to put on a full size tire.