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November
26, 1999
This is
Nick Baggarly. We spent the day "resting" up in Istanbul,
Turkey
I put the
quotes around the word "resting" because we didn't really rest
at all. We worked on the Land Rovers all day here at Anil Otomotiv in
Maslak, Istanbul. We're at an independently owned and operated Land Rover
service center. Right now one of the Dormobiles is dangling 6 feet above
the ground on a lift. There are three mechanics underneath going to town
on the front suspension, after which they'll secure Alaska's Chinese
alternator that we picked up in Inner Mongolia. It’s shaking like a
freezing cold Sherpa. Two others are working on Hercules, installing a
genuine Lucas alternator that costs $375 and diagnosing a wiring problem
with the headlights that has been haunting us for weeks. Recall that we entered
this city at 4 a.m. without any headlights at all. And here I am, sipping
a shot of Turkish tea, guilt-ridden because I should be doing all these
things myself. But that's not how it works in this shop and frankly,
that's good because I'm a little tired of laying in the dirt and mud,
unshielded from harsh elements, trying uncomfortably to get some repairs
done. Nope, we have a to-do list a mile long for both trucks so at this
point we really needed a garage and some help.
So far on
this journey our own repair efforts have been less than optimal but I'd
give us an A for creativity. Our field repairs are surprisingly memorable
experiences marked by rich interpersonal exchanges we otherwise would not
have had. We chose Land Rovers for this journey because we can fix
anything that might go wrong. That's the idea anyway. It's the Star Trek
mentality. When something breaks, we do what Scotty does. We fix it any
way we can (without the use of a Jeffries tube). But today we're at space
dock and it's Scotty's day off. Right now I'm supposed to play the role
of the customer. I'm expected to sit back, read Land Rover magazines, sip
tea, talk to the owner and worry not about my vehicles. They're
definitely in good hands. Normally I don't get too involved when I take a
car into a mechanic but our Rovers need to travel another 8200 kilometers
so I explain this and the manager immediately gives me the run of the
place. Every now and then I walk down stairs to see what the mechanics
are up to. Just like mechanics back home, these mechanics don’t
appreciate nosy customers. They raise eyebrows when I poke around and are
generally on guard as though I'm going to bother or distract them. Maybe
they're nervous that I will complain, get injured or give them
unnecessary instructions (ME!?). But eventually they warmed to my
presence because I make a sincere effort to dispel their concerns. After
a while they began showing me what's what and how things go together,
just like the mechanics in Nepal did. These guys are amazing. The only
break they have taken so far is for an occasional glass of Turkish tea; a
beverage that Todd and I are beginning to love. This stuff really sneaks
up on you though. After three small three ounce shots, I am so wired I
can't even think straight. I feel as though I've consumed five cups of
coffee and nausea is beginning to set in.
Our
schedule in Iran was pretty tight and we covered a lot of distance. In
fact, since we crossed the Iran-Pakistan border, we've driven
approximately 4460 kilometers, with only minimal preventative maintenance
along the way. Like I said, both trucks have developed a long to-do list
and we probably won't get around to doing most of the things on this
list. But such is the nature of overland travel. When we pull into a city
and have time to work on the trucks, I've found that our to-do list falls
into two categories: The things we have to do and the “it sure would be
nice but we haven't got the time” list. Like hooking up our stove, for
example. Since the beginning we have been carrying around a Swedish-made
Primus stove that is not connected to a propane tank. Back in China, in
Lanzhou, we even filled the tank with gas but somewhere along the line we
lost the hose that connects the two. I'm guessing it's laying on the road
somewhere West of Xining City. You know, it's a case of “shoulda hooked
it up when we had the chance” and for a few moments every now and then I
beat myself up about it, which probably sounds kind of weird. I suppose
it's because I have a tendency to obsess over details. But we're here and
we've gotten along without it and you know something, it isn't that
important. We've got Doug's single-burner stove and even if we didn't, we
could simply pick one up along the way.
I feel as
though I've come a long way during this trip and I'm not talking about
miles or kilometers. Somehow, I am now able to deal with a wider range of
situations. For example, obsessing over details. I mean, it's OK to
obsess over details but there's a healthy limit to watch out for so it
doesn't consume me to the point where I'm no fun to be around. And
there's nothing like an experience like this to taper one's sense of
self-importance. You get six people in two Rovers for two months and you
quickly begin to see your friends for who they really are. You also begin
to see who you really are and, quite honestly, sometimes what you see is
kind of disappointing. But at least you've been allowed to see it, which
means you can now change your behavior if you want to. Traveling is
insightful that way.
Back to the
hoses, however. Hoses are available everywhere, but unfortunately,
Primus-threaded hose adapters are not. We've made a bit of an effort in
practically every city to find or make an adapter but when you travel you
learn that getting specific items is a struggle. The best way to find
things is to ask a lot of people the same question. Eventually someone
will point the way.
Both trucks
have traveled with intermittent alternator problems. Any mechanic will
agree that intermittent problems are the worst ones because they're
difficult to track down. Add to that, none of us have a real good
understanding of auto electrical systems except for Mr. Earle Lowe and
he's gone now, departed from the Team a couple days ago in Erzurm.
Fortunately, our low-tech Land Rovers aren't difficult to figure out.
Hercules' alternator gave out yesterday. Since then, we've been running
off the battery. But every now and then, it'll come back to give us a
brief charge. The needle on the voltmeter has been quite fickle. It occasionally
wakes up and points to 15 for a while, long enough, fortunately to crank
out some juice and charge the batteries. There were some dicey times when
Hercules, with all electronics off except for the headlights, was barely
able to deliver 12 volts to the coil and keep the spark plugs alive. This
occurred while driving from Erzurum to Zara through a remote stretch of
eastern Turkey over the Coruh Mountains. Turkey's highest mountain pass,
Zigana Geciti is located near there. But the drive was unexpectedly
difficult. We knew the region was mountainous but we had no idea what the
roads would be like and we navigated the pass during a tremendous
blizzard, complete with super high winds, rain and aluminum-denting
hailstones. Then, as we climbed higher, we encountered snow, lots of it,
with baseball-size snowflakes. They were the largest snowflakes I've ever
seen in my life. All of these elements were extreme. It was pretty cool
because it was dark, no cars on the road and we're driving directly into
this snowstorm that was falling at a 45-degree angle. You'd think Jack
Frost was aiming it right at us. So I'd turn on the high beams to
illuminate the snow and talk about Star Trek, it looked like we were in
hyperspace or going light speed or something. It was really fun. Anyway,
these are the kinds of things that amuse us day after day.
But we
suspect that during the storm, water somehow made its way into Hercules'
alternator causing it to short out. Doug and Jeff noticed the voltmeter
wasn't reading its normal 15 volts and pretty soon they were forced to
shut down all but necessary instruments and accessories. First the radio
went off, then the inverter and the auxiliary Espar heater, followed by
the cabin heater and even the windshield wiper motor now and then. The
alternator was putting out a small amount of juice so the batteries would
charge slowly as long as all accessories were shut down. In any vehicle,
when the alternator stops putting out voltage, the vehicle will run off
the batteries for a while. We have two batteries so they usually can go
for an hour or two. But once the batteries are drained, with nothing
there to charge them, the engine will start running rough and eventually
we're on the side of the road again. This is usually the first indication
of a problem unless we're vigilant watching the dashboard gauges. Well,
the batteries in Hercules were indeed worn down. When it started running
rough, Doug and Jeff knew it was time to shut something else down. The
time came to turn the heater fan off, which was not kind to the occupants
of the vehicle. The temperatures we experienced in Turkey that day were
among the coldest we've encountered so far. The stock OAT gauge, that's
Outside Air Temperature, said -10 Fahrenheit or -23 Celsius but it's 37 years
old so who knows if it's accurate. I'd guess it was colder. Doug and Jeff
were bundled up behind the wheel, wearing all of their expedition gear
layers. It only helped so much because, poor guys, there were several
annoying air leaks in the door seals and seat box that threatened to turn
the Land Rover cabin into a cryogenic chamber. I remember Doug calling
over the CB saying, “Alaska, Come in. Uhh, Hercules is running down the
batteries again and there's nothing left to turn off except the
headlights.” Moments later I saw Hercules’ headlights go dim in my rear
view mirror. Doug left the parking lights on so I could see him and he
could see me and there was no one on the road to make the situation
dangerous. As long as he stayed close they would be OK and Doug is a
great driver with excellent reflexes. The next day we push-started
Hercules and once it was started it ran just fine. The alternator
moisture was gone so it began putting out enough juice to charge the
batteries. Since day driving consumes less power (no headlights), we did
OK. The heater and headlights seem to be the biggest drain on the
charging system.
We asked
the manager for a restaurant recommendation and he suggested Galata
Tower, built by the Genoese around 1350 as the centerpiece of their
enclave and subsequently shortened by 22 feet after the Moslem conquest.
Since then it has been a prison, an observatory, and a lookout tower for
fires. Now it is a superb viewing platform from which the visitor can see
all the way across Istanbul. We treated the gang to a ``Welcome to
Europe’’ dinner and enjoyed each other’s company during an evening feast.
This is Nick Baggarly signing off. Thank you and good night.
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