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Stan Brewster studied the rear-view mirror of the pickup camper he was driving. There was a cluster of four motorcycles following him up the long grade. A couple of times, the lead motorcyclist had tried to pass him, but the twisting, narrow road, the stream of approaching traffic and Stan’s reluctance to pull into one of the turnouts, had prevented them from passing his laboring truck. He listened, critically, to the engine and swore under his breath. There were a couple of fouled spark plugs, which caused the motor to run roughly, reducing its power and his speed. Then, he saw that behind the motorcycles there was a building tail of other vehicles, including another camper and a couple of cars pulling light vacation trailers. He’d have to pull over pretty soon to allow them to pass, but there were no turnouts along this stretch of the road.
This was the third day of his vacation. He’d been looking forward to it for months, but so far there had been nothing but trouble. On their first day away from home a radiator hose had broken, which delayed them for two hours for repairs; as a result they had been forced to stay overnight in a commercial trailer camp. Yesterday, he’d replaced the water pump… and now, today, it was fouled spark plugs.
Fictional reading for entertainment purposes only.