See you later, Navigator
Aug. 11th, 2021 04:48 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
offcntrI think my Garmin is jealous.
It's a satellite navigator we bought about ten years ago, after trying one out on a vacation to Arizona. It immediately became my new favorite thing, allowing me to find my way to shows, galleries, gas stations, without having to unfold a map or print out directions. Aside from a worrying fascination with ferry boats, it was simple and reliable, and we used it in both the car and the pottery business van.
Then we got a new car--inherited it, actually--that had its own, built-in Navigator. It took a little getting used to--used different phrasing when announcing turns, for instance, and the LED screen was hard to see with polaroid sunglasses. But it was always there, didn't have to be plugged in, and wouldn't fall off the windshield if summer sunshine overheated the suction cup. The Garmin was relegated to van use only.
Where it sat, neglected, through a year and a half of pandemic.
We finally used it last weekend for our trip to Anacortes, and it seemed to go out of its way to be difficult. We break the trip up into two parts, driving to Seattle on Wednesday, overnighting with Denise's cousin, then continuing on Thursday. As it happened, Diana's folks were in town as well, so we got to see three relatives, but had to stay in a motel overnight, as the sofa-bed was taken.
That was the first problem.
The motel was on a major north-south thoroughfare, half a block from the stoplight, and Aurora had a concrete median in front of the driveway. Kerensky (named for the hapless navigator in a John Scalzi novel) kept trying to direct us into impossible left turns out of or right turns into the parking lot, and got increasingly strident as we tried to U-turn around the problem.
Thursday morning, we were meeting Kay, Al and Diana at a pizza place in her neighborhood that had pivoted to outdoor dining. Driving south from the motel, we followed nice, wide avenues; then the traitorous machine directed us west on 8th Street.
If you've ever driven Ballard, you know streets like this, barely wide enough for two cars to meet under ideal conditions. That morning, there were cars parked solid on either curb, and barely enough room for one van to squeeze down the middle. I was making good progress, could even see my cross-street up ahead, when with a blam! I clipped the side mirror of a FedEx truck. I pulled over and parked at the next available space, walked back to check the damage.
Turns out her mirror had just folded forward. Mine popped out of its frame and was lying, broken, in the street.
I took it back to the van, and managed to pop it back together, though it was like looking through a kaleidoscope. I was prepared to live with it, when it occurred to me to ask Google for an auto parts store near me.
As it happens, O'Reilly Auto Parts was two blocks away, around a corner. And Chevrolet/Cadillac used the exact same mirror style from 1988 to 2004. My 1994 Astro was right in the middle of the range, and I was able to buy a replacement mirror for sixteen bucks. Pried off the old bits with my pocket knife, laid out foam tape on the new glass and presto! Better than new.
It's a satellite navigator we bought about ten years ago, after trying one out on a vacation to Arizona. It immediately became my new favorite thing, allowing me to find my way to shows, galleries, gas stations, without having to unfold a map or print out directions. Aside from a worrying fascination with ferry boats, it was simple and reliable, and we used it in both the car and the pottery business van.
Then we got a new car--inherited it, actually--that had its own, built-in Navigator. It took a little getting used to--used different phrasing when announcing turns, for instance, and the LED screen was hard to see with polaroid sunglasses. But it was always there, didn't have to be plugged in, and wouldn't fall off the windshield if summer sunshine overheated the suction cup. The Garmin was relegated to van use only.
Where it sat, neglected, through a year and a half of pandemic.
We finally used it last weekend for our trip to Anacortes, and it seemed to go out of its way to be difficult. We break the trip up into two parts, driving to Seattle on Wednesday, overnighting with Denise's cousin, then continuing on Thursday. As it happened, Diana's folks were in town as well, so we got to see three relatives, but had to stay in a motel overnight, as the sofa-bed was taken.
That was the first problem.
The motel was on a major north-south thoroughfare, half a block from the stoplight, and Aurora had a concrete median in front of the driveway. Kerensky (named for the hapless navigator in a John Scalzi novel) kept trying to direct us into impossible left turns out of or right turns into the parking lot, and got increasingly strident as we tried to U-turn around the problem.
Thursday morning, we were meeting Kay, Al and Diana at a pizza place in her neighborhood that had pivoted to outdoor dining. Driving south from the motel, we followed nice, wide avenues; then the traitorous machine directed us west on 8th Street.
If you've ever driven Ballard, you know streets like this, barely wide enough for two cars to meet under ideal conditions. That morning, there were cars parked solid on either curb, and barely enough room for one van to squeeze down the middle. I was making good progress, could even see my cross-street up ahead, when with a blam! I clipped the side mirror of a FedEx truck. I pulled over and parked at the next available space, walked back to check the damage.
Turns out her mirror had just folded forward. Mine popped out of its frame and was lying, broken, in the street.
I took it back to the van, and managed to pop it back together, though it was like looking through a kaleidoscope. I was prepared to live with it, when it occurred to me to ask Google for an auto parts store near me.
As it happens, O'Reilly Auto Parts was two blocks away, around a corner. And Chevrolet/Cadillac used the exact same mirror style from 1988 to 2004. My 1994 Astro was right in the middle of the range, and I was able to buy a replacement mirror for sixteen bucks. Pried off the old bits with my pocket knife, laid out foam tape on the new glass and presto! Better than new.
no subject
Date: 2021-08-12 05:20 am (UTC)