So. There we were. Happily cruising along. Me and the four kiddies. Miss B was sitting shotgun keeping me company. We were right on schedule with a tail wind, plenty of snacks and even a tasty picnic lunch (that's foreshadowing). After hours of highway, we hit the freeway and I accelerated, eager to get moving. My transmission did not agree and wouldn't allow me to drive faster than 50 mph. I called my hubby straightaway for advice and then limped along with my hazards on...trying to get into town. We made it to our favorite truck stop and after much deliberation, decided to wait in good ol' Kingman, AZ whilst my hubby finished up some work and rented a trailer for our grand rescue. So then all we had to do was wait. And wait. And you guessed it...WAIT. Luckily the van was functioning at low and easy speeds and so we carefully drove a couple of miles to a quaint spot on Historic Route 66. There we found an old train in a park, a 50's diner and a museum...all together for our enjoyment. We started with the train and climbed it for hours. Literally. We explored, read signs, climbed and climbed and climbed. We wandered, and the two big kids read under the trees. The boys climbed the trees and we had a lucky picnic on the lawn. I usually don't pack picnics, but it was so nice and turned our breakdown into a picnicking adventure.