I was driving to work on Sunday, southbound on I-81 (the Devil’s Parkway), when my rear passenger tire shit the bed. I’d been rolling along, singing loudly to “Bright Future in Sales” by Fountains of Wayne, and my world suddenly went wobbly. The car felt weird, there was a new sound I didn’t like, followed by a pronounced jimmying.
I pulled off on the shoulder, checked my mirrors until there was a brief gap in the high-speed projectiles of steel and glass, and jumped out to take a look. The rear passenger tire was flat, and the car looked collapsed and kind of sad.
What the heck, man?? Tractor trailers were rocketing past, each nearly sucking the clothes off my body, and I was convinced one of the drivers of the cars would be texting, drift, and crash into the rear of my Camry. And everyone within fifty yards would be roasted alive inside the resulting fireball.
I climbed across the guard rail, and began looking through my credit cards ‘n’ crap, hoping to find a AAA card. I had it, amazingly enough, and called the number on the front. A recording asked me to say the name of the city I was nearest, and I yelled, “WILKES-BARRE!!” It was so loud out there, I thought I needed to scream.
“If Rochester is correct, press one,” the voice answered.
WTF? I pressed two, tried it again, and had similar results. Finally, a real woman came on the line, and she asked a million questions. I could barely hear her, because of all the traffic noise, and she eventually transferred me to another woman who asked the exact same questions, in the exact same order.
Both were friendly, however, and the second one told me help would be arriving within thirty minutes. I thanked her, and started pacing back and forth. I looked at the car, and knew I could change the tire. But then I looked at the vehicles screaming past, five feet to the left of it, and decided I’d just wait for a professional.
And within ten minutes, maybe less, a wrecker pulled in behind me. The guy was cool, told me I’d picked a dangerous place to get a flat, and went to work. He put a heavy-duty jack under the car, lifted it off the ground, removed the lug nuts with a battery powered apparatus, and had the full-sized spare on there in less than 45 seconds.
I offered him some cash, and he wouldn’t take it. So I just thanked him and took off.
I don’t know if I got lucky, or if AAA has greatly improved their service, but that was about as good as it gets. Especially for me. I was braced for some kind of tragi-comedy, but it was almost completely painless. We allowed our AAA membership to lapse for about a year, but rejoined just a couple months ago. Money well-spent.
Thanks to everyone who has purchased the Kindle and Nook versions of Crossroads Road. If you haven’t yet, what are you waiting for? Here are your links, once again:
Kindle Store at amazon.com
NOOKBooks at BN.com
Kindle Store at amazon.co.uk
Thanks, also, to everyone who pre-ordered a signed copy of the trade paperback. I received the proof copy of the paperback on Friday, but there was a problem. Amazon’s software stripped out one entire layer of color from the artwork, and we had to submit a revised production file. But everything should be cool now, and we’ll get that party started momentarily.
So far, I haven’t heard from Apple about my application to be a vendor in their iBooks store. Grrr… I’m trying, I really am. Please stay tuned.
And finally, thanks to everyone who’s helped me spread the word about Crossroads Road on the internet. Please don’t let up. This needs to be exposed to folks outside the Surf Report community, and I need your assistance with that. Please harass everyone you know who has a sense of humor, and the absence of a stick up their ass. It’s much appreciated.
For the Question of the Day, please tell us your stories of car trouble, mechanical breakdowns, tire blowouts, engine fires, etc. You know, your most memorable vehicular malfunction tales.
Use the comments section below, and I’ll be back tomorrow.
Have a great day!
Am I 1st?
I am 1st – just one benefit of too much diet coke at dinner.
Massive tire blowout in 6 inches of mud, hit a “buried cable”
Sign that someone had threw into a mud whole.
Place: 7 devils swamp, Collins, AR
Changed the tire with no problem
Hit a rock wall with the front driver side wheel a couple weeks ago. Redoing the front end now. I already changed the lower ball joints, outer tie rods, steering knuckle (snapped it into two pieces) and rack and pinion (cracked the housing). I’m going to get the upper control arms today. Not a cheap job but it’s cheaper than getting someone else to do it.
I had a flat on the beltway around Baltimore back in the late 70’s in a ’63 Buick Leviathan. I pulled off onto the shoulder to try to change it. I had the car jacked up halfway when the whole rear end of the car leaned away from the road moving the top of the jack rail over about six inches. I couldn’t raise it anymore and it wouldn’t lower either. The sun was beginning to set and I walked up to the next exit ramp and walked to the nearest house to use their phone and call AAA. I waited about 3 hours and finally a tow truck showed up, but he wasn’t from AAA. He saw me stuck and pulled over. He lifted the car so I could get the jack unstuck and stood and watched me change the flat, then charged me $50. I kind of soured on AAA because of that. It was a long time ago though.
I am most curious to see if all of us can resist a slow curve right in the zone. I will collectively award us points for Avoiding the Obvious should we achieve this. In honor of the QOD, I am not uttering that word, even in my conversational speech all day, which challenges me to find 20 synonyms. Oh, yeah, I use that word a lot even when I’m not talking about hot rubber.
.
Jeff…
Nice job of signup with the Reporters. I thought you might be a little too laid back to make specific requests for help, but I guess you aren’t. Good for you for asking, and good for you in noticing that we’re all in this together.
And I’d still love to get you on one radio station. In working on being such a Guy, I think you sometimes fail to notice how charming you are.
Onward…keep ’em rolling.
jtb
He has been on the radio…..Let him tell about it
Yes. Yes he has.
I’ve heard Jeff’s radio broadcasts from several years ago. Do you mean he’s been on radio recently plugging the book? I’m a little behind in my emails (about 2,000 behind) and I might have missed an update.
jtb
Sir…To suggest that you may have missed an update is the best laff I’m going to have all week….This site is your Valhalla where you float above us illuminating the obvious 24/7….JK’s earlier radio effort was brave but I don’t think he wants to swing at a 2nd pitch….Not being hostile but observant…..Take care
Aah, the lost art of changing a tyre… What is happening to men? Getting soft?
There’s a big difference between “can’t change a tire,” and “there;s no fucking way.” I’ve changed tires, but I’m not doing it on I-81 with a million maniacs ripping past. Funk dat.
Jeff’s goal has always been to not go out like a fark link.
http://fark.com
I was bringing my stuff home from university one year, when the drivers side rear wheel bearing of my fathers’ Ford F-150 failed spectacularly. The axle (with wheel and tire) came out, hit the ground, and according to witnesses flipped about 30 feet into the air. Luckily it happened about a mile from home, on a quiet 2-lane road. Hitched a ride home, dad called the tow truck, and chalked it up to a “life lesson.”
Back in the Bob Evans days, a guy I worked with named Buddy were out drinking and driving in his Shitvette. Using many drugs at the time, as well, the whole thing seemed surreal. We were cruising on the interstate and Bud was driving. He veered off the road into the grass median and I felt the car do a quick and steep descent downhill. We had headed down where the overpass to another road was and hit the road below that was perpendicular to the above highway. Everything underneath his car busted up, but the car kept sliding across the road, sparks flying from underneath. The car had basically become a sled at this time. We continued to skid another 20 yards or so and crashed through the living room of a small house near the roadway. The two occupants were lunging for their lives when it came to a halt facing their television. Thankfully no one was injured, but Bud’s driving days were over for a long while after that. Best past was when we got out of the car, The first thing Buddy asked the couple was what was the score was of the game they were watching.
Classic!
About 10 years ago I managed to run over a refridgerator door that was in the middle of I-81 So. at exit 180. Destroyed 3 of the 4 tires. Had to be flat-bed towed to the tire store. The guy made me buy 4 tires because he said the treads had to match. Once had 2 horses fall out of a trailer in front of me, did not hit them but they were screwed.
Poor horses.
I almost drove over a pissy mattress in the Bronx. God only knows what would have erupted from that thing!
I was drive an old Chevy back a few decades ago. The parking brake pedal was tired and would slip down sometimes causing the dash light to come on. A quick tug on the pedal would knock it off. My dad’s car had a little lever mounted on the lower right dash that released the parking brake. It was the “nice” car, so I used it for dates and outings and stuff.
One night a I was driving with a few friends and the light came on. In the haste of conversation I leaned over to pull the lever forgetting that I was in my car, not the old man’s.
I pulled the little dash lever, but in my car it was the hood release. Mid sentence the hood popped up an inch or two, then half a second later flipped back onto the windshield. The sound was tremendous and I instantly spun the car around and into the median. The hood flipped back down and then flew completely off and the car spun back around and stopped.
We all shit a brick, then just looked around at each other in silence, got out, and propped the hood up on the guardrail. Other than the hood and the windshield, the car was fine and we drove on.
Funniest part was, I replaced the windshield, but drove without the hood for another year or so. I saw the damaged hood just hanging out on the side of the road for three weeks everyday on my way to work.
That made me laugh. The hood on my ’66 Rambler Classic popped up all on its own the day I graduated from high school. Out on I90 after the graduation thing and on the way home where a keg waited in the parents’ garage. Didn’t break the windshield, but it wrapped itself right over the roof. I climbed up on the car, stomped the thing back down best I could, and tied it with a piece of wire till I got home and took it off. Drove that car the next eight days with no hood, up until I got on the bus bound for the AFEES station in Minneapolis. Left it with the folks, and I’m told they drove it for quite a while until it finally was ready for the junkyard.
Awesome! Seem to me the conversation went something like, “so anyway, there’s she was totally…wait, there we go – hold on, that was the hoo WHAM! OH FUCK, WE’RE GOING TO WHAM!…(car stops – cricket sounds)
From reading down, this seems to be a more common problem than I expected.
When we were teenagers Tilly and I were driving up 65 to Chicago, and my car started making a horrible noise. Tilly claimed she could fix it, and she leaned over and turned the stereo up to eleven. That didn’t fix it. We were able to limp off the highway at the next exit and find a place where we could make calls for a ride and a tow. As it turns out my engine had blown. In retrospect, I am surprised that turning up the stereo didn’t fix it.
More recently my husband and I were on the highway, and he insisted that the car was doing something funny, so he got off at the next exit. He was right, and we had averted a very close call. We had been travelling in close proximity to the touring bus for the Insane Clown Posse, and we were newlyweds, so I am sure there would have been a great headline in there if we had met our demise among the Juggalos.
Oh, Jeff, congratulations on the book. It looks great, and I am really looking forward to buying and reading it! Do you think you might offer signed copes again at some point in the future for those of us who were away from technology last week and missed our abbreviated window?
I KNEW YOU WOULD TELL THAT STORY IN RESPONSE TO THE QOD. I just want you to know I am still just about as handy with car repairs. 🙂
White Trash Barbie AND Tilly, if either of you get divorced in the near future, give me a heads up…you two sound like the the greatest of the great!
Thanks, clintcurtis! You should know that TILLY is a better catch than I am. She is wickedly funny, although she does take a ruckus with her wherever she goes.
TILLY, I would have told the story about your first car that mysteriously died after you drove it something like 100K miles without an oil change, but I don’t remember all of the details.
And TILLY, I didn’t mention, because it is off topic, how you and I both wrecked our cars the day we got our drivers’ licenses. I got my license first and wrecked my car that night. You had to one up me by not even making it out of the driveway the day you got your license. Stupid postal truck stopped at the end of the driveway.
“In retrospect, I am surprised that turning up the stereo didn’t fix it.”
Barbie…
I don’t know who the better catch is, but you tell a damn funny story, not just now but frequently. I didn’t see that sentence coming, and I laughed out loud. I like the way you write.
jtb
jtb,
Thanks! That is very kind of you to say. I try to write like I talk. I think the writing seems a little better because it has the luxury of spell check.
wtb
Had a flat on a first date with a girl from work. Had to put on the doughnut. Not a good way to start a relationship.
I had an old and very rusty F-100 pickup I drove to work. One day upon entering I-77 from a curving on-ramp the battery slid forward and welded itself to the radiator shroud. Dumbass that I was at the time I opened the hood and saw that one battery post was the color of the Sun. I should have run but I hit the battery with the heel of my hand and knocked it loose. I’m just lucky that I didn’t get a face full of hot battery acid. Had to have it towed though.
Once many years ago I owned a Dodge Ramcharger (think Chryslers version of a Chevy Blazer). One Winter night while the now-ex wife was working I went out four-wheeling down a creek bed. Of course I got it high-centered on a snow covered rock. I got un-stuck after about an hour but I thought I would have to stay there until Spring thaw. I didn’t go out alone after that.
Chuck…
1) Nice job with “the color of the sun”.
2) Is “Had to put on the doughnut” a figure of speech?
3) Congrats for your restraint in not using the word of the day.
My regards as always…
jtb
This happened about 15 years ago. I was at a red light, waiting to get on the interstate. My car died. It wouldn’t restart so I got out and jerked around on the battery cable. Meanwhile, the light had turned green and people were honking and cussing, and going insane. I jumped back in my car and took off.
In my haste I apparently forgot to shut the hood very well. Once I got up to about 60mph it flipped back onto the wind shield. There was one tiny area that I could see through, and I was surrounded by cars. Terrible.
A couple of months ago I was moving a concrete mixer with my truck. The mixer didn’t have a hitch, just a loop, and the guy I was with just looped it over the ball on my buper and said, “It’ll ride. I do it all the time.”
I was driving around town when I heard honking. I looked over to see the mixer rolling down the lane next to me. It passed me! Jesus Christ! Luckily, it didn’t hit anyone or anything. That wasn’t a lot of fun, standing in the street, trying to roll it back to my truck. We slipped it back over the ball and I wrapped it with an entire roll of duct tape to keep it from popping back off.
Why didn’t you just get back in the car when talking to AAA?
Because I was convinced somebody was going to hit the bastard.
i had a 2006 chevy malibu, that i bought used from a well known dealership. after a year or 2 the steering wheel would just lock up while i was driving. like literally lock like i could not move it at all. i would have a heart attack every time it happened. after 2 or 3 more times of that happening, the car just died. i will never ever buy another chevy. i dont care if it was brand new, top of the line and given to me for free, i would not take it!!!
As I’ve replaced just about every part on my car in the last few years, there have been some memorable occasions of spectacular failure to tell. From having to be picked up in a parking lot on a cold-ass Feb night because the thermostat crapped the sleeping platform to the car stopping DEAD on RT 55 because of a failed sensor-dealio (that required a tow and $1200 bucks worth of work to fix), it’s been wild ride.
But the best was many moons ago when I was driving a Pontiac Phoenix (hatchback! Sexy!) home from college on a frigging cold night in December on a failing alternator. First the heat went, then the gauges started ratcheting around wildly, then the headlights began to dim, and get dimmer, and the dashlights stopped working, and forget about the defroster…By the time I limped into Gainesville VA just about nothing on the car worked. In the days before cell phones (we’re talking early 80’s here) and well before Gainesville was anything more than one gas station and a train crossing, this was dang scary stuff.
Can still clearly recall how fast and hard my heart was a-thumping that night. Thank God for that one open gas station. I could have frozen my then-skinny ass to death on the side of the road that night!
What the hell? Check this out:
http://thewvsr.com/ultimatelybuy.htm
It ain’t brain surgery.
Pictures of the mind? Who the hell is buying that?
It’s free…
Nancy bought that after reading Jeff’s book synopsis.
Hey, could be interesting. I ordered it.
Did you know your transmission fluid gets passed through your radiator housing to cool it off as well? Yeah – neither did I 25 years ago. Here’s how I found out:
I was living in Austin, TX at the time and was driving my 1977 Mercury Monarch. I backed out of my parking spot one hot day to go to lunch, when I noticed that the (power) steering was very sluggish and the brakes were “mushy”. So I pulled back in to my spot and popped the hood. When I lifted it up, I was liberally sprayed with transmission fluid. See – the little metal pipe that runs the fluid up through the radiator got a pinhole in it. This pinhole was in the direction of the fan and so not only was transmission fluid going in to the fan and then out all over me but also all over the engine and the belts. So the belts were slipping badly, which was why my power steering and power brakes felt so wrong.
Heh. I had a lot of fun with that f**king car. This is just ONE story!
JK – You did the right thing by getting the hell out of the car and standing on the other side of the guardrail on the devil’s parkway while calling for help. You were insuring that you would live to see your wife and kids at least one more time. The tow truck driver probably parked his vehicle such that it would block oncoming traffic so that he would not get hit while working on your tire (tyre?). He probably had a family that he wanted to live to see again as well.
I had just achieved my license, it was my first out-of-state solo, I was driving several hours to James Madison to see my hot sexy older college chick. My 1984 Chevette (that’s right jealous bastids- and this was way past 1984) fuckin had a damn stroke. All I wanted was sex. I figured I’d get picked up hitching if I… RAN with my thumb out. So here I was, running in my little football letterman jacket (I wasn’t a JOCK jock, merely a fuckface) with my thumb out. I just wanted to have sex. With the girlfriend, that is. A guy who apeared normal picked me up… and I really needed the money… just kidding. KIDDING.
So anyway, my lady and I had sweet wondrous loves when she came to pick me up later at the gas station where the dude dropped me off. I did it with the gusto of a man who was paying a super lot for it. She seemed to appreciate the effort.
However long it took to read that is time you’ll not get back.
Check’s in the mail, Jeff. For the book, I mean.
Thanks, guys, bye for now.
I heard that Blizzaks don’t go flat.
Blizzaks are the Chuck Norris of tires.
jtb, he said the word first!
..the road goes Blizzak.
.
TW and I did a lot of traveling in a motorhome we owned from when the 2 sons were 3 & 4 until they were 17 & 18, and we have a lot of “distress” stories that could be told.
Spend a couple of days outside of Salt Lake City getting the transmission rebuilt? Not a problem when there’s a water park nearby. Get towed to Boise, ID, after riding a bike a couple of miles to find a phone to make a call after a wire to the alternator disconnected because of a rough back road in the wilderness, stranding us on a 2-lane road in the Sawtooth Mountains? Kind of fun if you have the right attitude. Arranging to have the motorhome towed from afar and then ordering a new 1/2-block to be flown to Grand Junction, CO, for an engine rebuild because TW was stranded on I-80 in the middle of Glenwood Canyon with the kids, 2 dogs, and enough food and clothing for a 3-week trip (I planned to fly to Denver after 1 week to join them, which ended up being put off for a couple of days) all because she failed to follow my instructions re: adding engine oil when filling with gas? I found that that’s possible and tolerable, and I’ve reminded her of it enough that to do so again is verboten.
But the absolute best story involves a tire. While we were driving down the middle of Nevada on a 2-lane road on our way back from Idaho (a different trip), TW decided to relieve herself in the onboard bathroom. While she was sitting there comfortably doing her thing, the tread from one of the dual tires just below the toilet let loose, and impacted the bottom of the motor home with a bang that sounded like an M-80. Looking in the rear-view mirror and seeing her blast out of that bathroom with her pants around her ankles was a sight that I’ll never forget, and I’m sure that at some point she’ll forgive me for my uncontrolled laughter.
I’m sure the tread problem was because the tires weren’t Bli…Bliz…
Nope. Out of deference to JTB, I won’t say it.
I’m usually pretty safe from these sorts of things (now if you see a giant fireball coming from the southwest that’s my truck exploding from backing into a shrub). But I do have story about the Army.
This isn’t really a vehicle malfunction as it is a faulty user story.
I was in the lead Humvee, in a convoy of my vehicle, 4 M1117 ASVs and a Deuce and a Half filled with several tons of ammunition.
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/M1117_Armored_Security_Vehicle
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/M35_2%C2%BD_ton_cargo_truck
We were driving out to a range in Germany, in January. Snow buildup on the road in the middle of the forest was about 6 inches. The ambient air temp was well below freezing.
At one point I looked into the rearview mirror and saw two of the ASVs sliding into the ditches on both sides of the road. And at first you think, “Surely that big old tank on wheels can get itself out of a ditch. Well the ditches were 4 to 6 feet deep mini canyons with vertical walls. So what we had was two 15 ton vehicles on their side in the middle of a forest in Germany. We tried pulling one vehicle out with the remaining two ASVs. The only thing that happened was that one of the two was pulled into the ditch with the vehicle they were trying to save. So now we have three ditched ASVs and one on the road.
Then, for some unknown reason, a Bradley all by itself (WTF) is just cruising around and sees us. The Bradley crew tries to help. Well, by this time all that 6 inch snow has been tread over several times by tons and tons of vehicles and is now a solid patch of ice. While the Bradley tries to muscle one of the ASVs out, he slides in to the ditch on the other side of the road, colliding with the ASV ditched on that side.
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/M2_Bradley
Now we have 3 ditched ASVs and a ditched Bradley.
So with the Deuce and a Half and the remaining ASV we are able to pull the Bradley out of the ditch and off of the ASV it was on top of.
Everyone piled into the remaining vehicles and got the hell out of there. Two cranes had to be sent out to get the ASV’s out of the ditches.
Moderation bites.
My wife drove 35 miles to the airport with a tire going flat. The problem is that the airport is 37 miles away. When the tire finally shredded, she found herself in much the same predicament as Jeff, except that we had a 1 yr old in the car and there’s a 5ft high cement wall instead of a guardrail to hop over.
I wish you could have seen the cabbie’s face when I told him he had to drop me off on the 202. No exit, just on the 202.
Hehehe…my wife called me from New York, and I’m in Alaska. She said, Clint, the “Check Engine” light just came on. I stopped, opened the hood, and the engine was still there. So I kept driving it, but then it just stopped. I called AAA and had it towed in, and the mechanic said there is a hole in the oil pan.”
Too. Damned. Funny !!
There is no friggin’ way I’d ever try to change a tire on the interstate. Just a couple of weeks ago, I was driving home at dusk, and there was a guy lying on the side of the interstate, working on his broken down truck. His right arm & leg are IN MY LANE, ACROSS THE YELLOW LINE. He may as well have been at home, sprawled out on his bed. If I hadn’t swerved into the left lane, I probably would have run over him. You couldn’t see him, just lying there on the interstate, until you were right on him. I believe the words, “Fucking” and “Idiot” may have been used.
” Please harass everyone you know who has a sense of humor, and the absence of a stick up their ass. It’s much appreciated.”
Rotflmao! If they don’t have a sense of humor, they aren’t friends because they wouldn’t be able to stand my morbid / cracked sense of humor.
They will be assimilated.
My most memorable breakdown was on I-81, and as a matter of fact, while going from Clarks Summit to Wilkes Barre last fall.
A pal and his wife seperated, and, since I have a pickup truck and trailer, he asked me to help him move. It goes with the turf, I guess. Anyhow, one one of the 10 trips I made moving his stuff, this “story” occurred…………
I had dropped the trailer at his house, and left it for him to fill for the next trip. I shoulda known I was in for a fun trip, as he had asked “how much ammunition” the trailer would hold. I wasn’t really sure, but quoted him an estimate that “about a foot deep should be the max, on a 4foot by 10 foot bed…….”….
So I arrived for the next “run” to find the trailer loaded……. with ammunition………a foot deep. This guy is a pretty colorful character, as are all my cronies – one prone to begining sentences with ” when the shit hits the fan” or “never can have enough guns n’ ammo if……….”
Anyhow, I still have no idea how much this load weighed – probably a ton, easily enough. We hitched it up, loaded the truck with other stuff (ever seen “hoarders”?) and i got rolling. He was ahead of me, got on 81, and disappeared into the distance.
Anyhow, somewhere around where 81 splits and you can head toward the Metropolis of Carbondale, the truck seemed to be really slowing down – i realized that I had my accelerator to the floor, yet was doing only about 50 mph. The only place to pull off was on my right, right up against a concrete barrier – which I took advantage of quickly.
Walked back to the trailer – the driver side trailer looked fine. Then around to the passenger side, where the tire didn’t look bad either, it looked GONE. Literally only a pounded up steel rim remained. Shit on a hoagie bun, batman!
So I go back to the truck, and realize I have a floor jack (thinking ahead!), four way tire iron (kewel!) and…………
no fuggin’ spare for the trailer. Shit shit shit!
So I get back in the truck – which is rocking violently from the wind shear of cars and trucks thundering just inches away as they go by, grab my cell (prepaid) to call my pal, to let him know he needs to get me a tire for the trailer, and get the old “you need to add minutes to complete this call” message. SHIT in a fancy italian handbag! Shit!
Fish out my credit card, navigate the menu of robots, talk to “Bob” in India, and finally, 20 minutes later, my phone is “recharged”.
I finally get in touch with my co-hort as he is exiting 81 20 miles away, and he goes looking for a trailer tire/rim, a process which takes him about 2 hours.
So, I now spend two hours on the side of I-81, with one ton of ammunition in an enclosed trailer behind me…… mostly of the military variety, you know, 7.62 x 39, 5.56 (223), .45 acp, 9mm, mostly in military ammo boxes, and wonder, what kinda boom will it make if I get rear-ended? and then, an even darker thought comes to mind.
When a State Trooper pulls behind me to “assist”, how should I answer the obvious question as to “What you got in the trailer you’re pulling?”
“SHIT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”
Immediately, in my mind, i see myself spread eagled on the pavement, highway flares all around the truck/trailer ………… nice people from the government in black outfits with “batf”, “fbi” “police” and so on emlazoned across their chests……………saying things to me like “body cavity search”, “please relax” and “why would anyone need so much ammunition?” and so on………… SHIT!!!
Anyhow, no one ever did stop – though it was a good “stress test” of the cardio system. I’m pretty sure the “people suck” sticker on the back of the trailer kept any good samaritans at bay, in that particular instance.
Live and learn, I guess.
Holy crap! That’s way worse than me almost not getting laid (see story above… or not).
Glad you’re not exploded/ riddled with bullets or in prison, dude.
Should’ve hit reply, Al. But since I’m some kind of slow-ass moron, I didn’t.
It is worse – as i’m sure I didn’t get laid………
No dramatic side of the road stories but about a month ago, husband and I were on our way from WV to Baltimore in the wee hours in the pouring rain. He pulled off the road under an overpass so I could drive. An 18-wheeler whipped by and coated me with a cold, nasty layer of road muck. My hair was lacquered up like a cockatoo. We were wide awake after that. Me for feeling I went through a carwash and husband for laughing his ass off.
I had inherited my Dad’s 1977 Olsdmobile Coupe Whatthefuck that was basically the size of a “short bus.” The thing would konk out on me every morning driving down the interstate enroute to the train station. I would have to yank the wheel to the right and hoped I would coast over to the shoulder to sit and try to restart. Back in 1986 this tank took about $40 to fill.
One day, being in a somewhat jaunty mood, I pulled into a slef-serve (remember them???) gas station. With a butt burning on my lip and the radio blasting I asked the clerk to fill it and “Check the oil.” ( I could have added “my good man” but I wasn’t that much of a douche bucket. Two minutes later, I get the tap on my window and the surly attendant yells “I would CHECK the oil if you HAD any oil.”
Yeah, I almost seized that yacht motor. I took it for an insepction and the guy came out with a ream of paper with shit needed to pass. The thing finally ended up dying in my parking lot one night. Great car, though.
That totally reminds me of when I was in the Air Force in Spokane, WA. I was helping my buddy move home to Sacremento, CA. We were loading up his early 70’s Buick land yacht, and as I loaded up two cases of oil into the trunk of his car, I asked, “Gee, think ya got enough oil?” He replied, “Nah, but I’ll stock up with another couple cases when I get halfway through Oregon.”
I missed a few days of the report and now the signed copies of the book are gone…That was quick! : (
I missed them too, debra, on account of a ruptured mouse. On the other hand, if we didn’t already know that life kicked you in the ass every time you turned to look up at the stars, we wouldn’t spend time in Jeff’s yard at all.
If you’d like to car pool to Scranton come the summer, I’m starting a convoy from the Northwest and adding Reporters along the way to Scranton. We’re staying at Jeff’s house while he signs our books. Come on along. Toney will just toss some extra carrots in the stew.
jtb
Jeff said that he would work out a way to sign copies that folks buy off of Amazon.
The latest incident took place a couple of months ago, on Sunday Feb 6. I wanted to make a quick run to the grocery store. When I started the car, it ran horribly – all rough and stumbling, no power, “check engine” lights on all over the place. It turns out mice had gotten into the engine compartment and chewed the wiring all to shit. $1300 later it was all better. Then three weeks later they did it AGAIN – same problem, same solution, same price, probably same mice. My next investment was a couple of boxes of D-Con; normally I don’t hold with poison, but I couldn’t afford not to since the neighborhood cats are such slackers.
Much earlier… In 1979 I was the proud owner of a 1974 Chevy Vega – an engineering triumph if ever there was one. I noticed it seemed to need very frequent tune-ups, and whenever I did one there was this strange gray powder inside the distributor cap, which I would diligently clean out every time. When the car finally died by the side of the road, I found the distributor cut very cleanly in half. On of the advance weight springs had broken, and the weight had been spinning along the inside of the distributor housing all this time, machining a groove (and creating gray dust) which eventually cut the thing in two. On a separate occasion, the engine caught fire.
Finally, sometime in the mid-1980s, my Ford Fiesta suffered from carburetor icing. I believe that’s an obsolete car problem now.
There’s more, but these are the best.
.
Vegas were really cool looking! Unfortunately, they didn’t last because of something about the engine block cylinder liners, or something. I owned a Pinto way back then, but longed for a Vega…and an AMC Gremlin was wayyyy outta my price range as an Airman First Class in the Air Force!
Nothing too spectacular, but there is a section of I-90 in MA that my car apparently hates.
A couple of years ago a friend and I were traveling from her house in Springfield to somewhere in northern NY. We were supposed to arrive at our destination around 10 AM, we arrived around 2 PM. As we were on a nice, empty section of I-90, between exit 3 and exit 2, my car made a strange sound, shuddered, shot a cloud of blue smoke out the back and decided it no longer wanted to go. I managed to get from the passing lane over to the right shoulder before it gave up completely. Apparently, my transmission had died in a very unusual way since the (transmission) guy who put in a rebuilt one for me said later that he had never seen a transmission die that way. Luckily, some other friends were able pick us (and all of our gear for a weekend away) at the garage we were towed to, drive us to her house and we continued on our way in her car. In hindsight, I realized that my car had been acting funny for a few days and I should have taken it in to be checked; might have saved me a really expensive repair.
Just a few months ago, I was on the same section of road by myself, but on the way to visit that same friend at her timeshare in the Berkshires. A while back my car had been having some problems, check engine light on, not wanting to start, but when I got an oil change, the problems went away, so I thought I was okay, but nooooo; as I hit that lovely, desolate section of road, my car suddenly decided it did not want to continue moving, so again, I made my way from the passing lane over to the right shoulder (why do I always have to have *just* passed someone when my car does these things?) got out and proceeded to check all fluids that I knew how to check. The fluids were fine, so I decided to try to restart the car and it wouldn’t start, so I again got out. I called my friend and let her know what was happening and as I was digging for my AAA card, one of those highway rescue vehicles showed up. The guy looked things over, had me confirm that I did have enough gas (I had filled up only an hour ago) and then contacted AAA for me. The friends that had rescued us the first time came and brought me to their house and we then met up with the other friend who then brought me up to the Berkshires.
The first time, nobody official stopped for us, but 2 groups of people we knew (one group that we knew well, the other people who would have recognized my car as a familiar one due to a bumper sticker identifying that I was a member of the same medieval re-enactment club as them) and were heading the same place as us, did. The familiar folks confirmed that the only thing they could do for us was deliver a message for my travel companion. The 2nd group, appeared to not want to leave us, and clearly felt bad that they couldn’t just help us change a tire or something simple like that. When they determined they could not fix the car problem, they offered us granola bars in case we needed a snack while we were waiting for the tow truck AAA was sending.
I will never let my AAA lapse, it has saved me an expensive tow 3 times. The only way I will give it up, is if I can get some other roadside emergency thing that is just as good or better for cheaper.
I used to live out that way – between exits 1 and 2, off Rte. 7. The Mass Pike can be a dark and lonely place at 3am in January. I’m sorry you had that experience, but at least it was in the summer and in the daytime.
.
Wasn’t summer, but was daytime and even though the 2nd time was February, it was one of those freak, 50 degree Feb days. After dark in a snow/sleat storm is real fun driving east on that section of road. Early one New Year’s Eve, I was driving home from Pittsfield to Greenfield MA and was supposed to go to Easthampton later for a party; by the time I got to exit 3, I decided I was not going to make it home alive because I could barley hold onto the wheel anymore from fighting it so hard and went straight to Easthampton. Never had I been so glad to arrive anywhere.
My bad, I assumed summer because of the reenactment thing.
Cardboard in front of the radiator so the heat will work. Reaching out the open window while driving to grab the wiper when it comes up, so you can snap off the frozen slush. Tire turds. These are some of the reasons I moved to Dixieland.
.
Two tales to tell…
Driving non-stop from LA to Seattle coming home from watching a car race. Several mile south of Weed, California, the tailpipe broke loose on my 1972 Pinto staion wagon (with authentic fake wood grain sides!) 600 miles from home, in the middle of the night, and just enough money for gas to get home. My brother the mechanic was driving, so he saw a pair of wire cutters, a few old hose clamps, a a screw driver in the back of the car.
Excellent “thinker” that he is, he told me to take the wire cutters and cit off some of the fence that was on the side of the Freeway. So, I was out there just a snippin’ away at the fence, when a California State Trooper pulled up and ordered me brother to “get that heap off the road, or I’ll have it towed in 15 minutes.”
I was hunkering down in the grass alongside the road while all this was going on, and as soon as the CHiP left, I ran back to the car with a chunk of fence, we wrapped it around the tailpipe, cinched it up with a couple hose clamps, and drove 600 miles back to Washington, laughing all the way!
Story numer two is next…
Okay, story number two. As some of you may have guessed, I am a car racing fan. My brother and I have raced dirt track spint cars and with him as the driver, have won races in the 1980s, 90s, 2000s. Used to think that racing was “life itself,” but realized it was just a cool way to have fun.
…So, we were pulling out of the Seattle area, towing our car on a crappy trailer with wheels that seemed to point in all different directions. Destination: California!!!!!
Somewhere around Tacoma, Washington southbound on Interstate 5, one of the wheels broke off the axle, winged through the median strip, where it was smacked headon by an 80 year old lady in a big ass Buick. It hit her car, then flew up over it, where it was hit a Washington State Patrol car. No injuries fortunately, but much hilarity ensues to this day.
…my brother’s insurance company called him several days later to inform him that they no longer valued their business association with him, and he was henceforth CANCELLED!
Have a friend whose horse would just stop/ lay downwhenever it wanted and wherever you happened to be. Didn’t care about how far out you were or if it was raining. Would not start up again until It was ready for no apparent reason what so ever and then be just fine. She took him to a guy who’s the best around that works on horses like that. Asked the usual questions…are you the original owner?…how long has it been doing this? He told her she’d have to leave it over night and she said fine, she’s got another horse. Later told her he’d need it another day. When she finally went to pick it up he said he couldn’t get it to do what she was saying and he couldn’t find anything wrong. I remember she had put it out in the field for a while and one day somebody came and hauled it off.
Jeff, loved the book. It just needed about a hundred more chapters. I guess that’s a good sign that I didn’t want to put it down and finished it quickly (I know, bring on the first.fishing quickly jokes). Again thanks and I look forward to your next.