When the car began acting up this morning, I knew it wasn't the ignition coil or misfiring plugs. The battery light that flashed red and the wildly fluctuating gauges (could I really have been driving 260 km/h?) prompted me to proceed directly to the garage.
With no loaner car available, and the complimentary shuttle service not extending as far the church office, I had them drive me home where I would do my work. A call in the afternoon confirmed that we need a new alternator.
Shelley's dad often says its cheaper to fix an older car than to pay the depreciation on a new one. Lately, I think we're getting to the tipping point of this fine balance. But after 8 years and 246 000 km, things are bound to wear out.