I had one of the worst experiences in my entire life today.

I agreed to pick up Eggroll at a rest stop just past I380 on my way back to school. Along the way, I noticed smoke coming out of my car and a long following distance from the cars behind me. I began to smell something burning, and I looked at my dash and my engine heat was off the dial. I prayed I'd make it to the rest stop. I did.

Once there, Alex's Dad diagnosed my car as blowing a radiator cap. I called my Dad and he drove all the way down there to bring us a new radiator cap. Alex and I sat in the rest stop and eagerly anticipated his arrival.

My Dad showed up and capped my radiator. My engine temp was down, and it appeared everything was going well. We merged back into traffic and continued on.

About 13 miles past the rest stop, the engine heat shot back up over the redline. I pulled the car off the road and immediately noticed that the smoke had returned. I called my Dad, who had to turn around and come all the way back. The car is dead. We shifted all of our crap into the Jeep, and my Dad drove off in my broken automobile.

He made it into town and called a tow truck. My Mom came to get him. Alex and I made it to school. Stay tuned for the next chapter in, "The Broke Down Dodge".

Side note: I've never respected or loved my father more than now. I'd still be shivering in my broken car if not for him.