Two Girls, A Car, And A Fiasco

A few years ago my amazing sister and I took a rode trip to drop off her amazing son with our amazing Auntie B. The voyage there was magnificent. We stopped along the interstate, taking pictures of sunflowers basking in the golden sunlight and listening to hilarious mix-tapes from our 90's youth.

“Your own personal Jesus,” we sang at the top of our lungs while the teenager (who'd rather be listening to Duke Ellington) rolled his eyes and glowered at us from the backseat.

The teenager may not have been enjoying himself, but my younger sibling and I were having a blast. Evil me kinda-sorta thinks that there is nothing more fun than annoying a teenager; it's one of the greatest joys in my life.

Of course, there were numerous stops along the way at Starbucks (one must have the right fuel for adventure). Caffeine combined with some Thomas Dolby is just the best. Blinded by science, and peppy as peppy could be we arrived at my auntie's.

Finally there, we enjoyed a brilliant evening fueled by white zin and a crazy variety of the best yummies Costco has to offer. In the glorious garden, we drank and were merry until in the wee hours of the evening when we stumbled off to dreamland.

I awoke to a heatwave the likes that I had never experienced before in the Bay Area. I was already sweating as I loaded the car for the journey home and it was only 10am. I was actually excited by the prospect of getting in the car for the crazy drive back to Oregon. The air-conditioned vehicle beckoned as we hugged our loved ones goodbye. Tears were shed, embraces embraced, for even though teenagers are annoying, you tend to instantly miss them.

My sister cried on and off for the first hour, seriously missing the teenager. “What am I going to do when he goes off to college?” she wailed.

We stopped for gas, and us being from Oregon, it took a few tries to remember exactly how to pump our own gas. The things the mind loses from lack of use are startling, so I am giving myself a tiny bit of slack. When I removed the gas-hose-nozzle-thingy from the car it hadn't turned off all the way and I sprayed a great deal of unleaded all over my feet. Yay!

As I used a nasty little gas station bathroom to clean off my feet, I totally lost it. “I'm going to die...my feet are going to catch fire...there is no point going on..I can't get into the car, if we crash I'm dead...yada yada.”

It was gross, but I now admit to being a tad melodramatic. My patient sister coaxed me into the car with a sweet, “Get in the fucking car right now or I'm leaving you here.” I, of course, got my ass into the fucking car.

It took about two minutes in the sweltering heat to realize that the blissful air-conditioner was not working. We turned it off and turned it back on...nothing but hot air blew from the vent. “It must just be out of freon.” My sister felt certain.

So, we turned around and drove back to the gas station. The mechanic on duty told us that it was definitely out of freon (score one for my sister), but it also had a leak and he wouldn't advise filling it until the leak was fixed. Well crap!

Like the idiots we are, we decided to have it filled anyway. We scraped our money together and prayed for the best. Fifteen minutes later all the freon had escaped and we were broke. Still, we trudged on!

The stretch of I-5 that runs from California on up to Oregon is about the most boring stretch of highway in all of existence. On this day in the sweltering heat it was no different. On the way down we had spoiled ourselves with coffees and goodies to while away the hours, but after throwing all of our moolah away on the damn freon we were too impoverished for coffee, and the carefree mood of the day before had turned into catty bitchiness.

Our mix-tapes, that we had enjoyed just hours before, now sucked. We couldn't agree between “Dave Matthews Band” (which I hate) and "Natalie Merchant” (whom she hates). It was dreadful. The temperature outside the car was around 115F, and inside the car between the stifling heat and our stellar bitchiness was about 400F. (You probably think I'm exaggerating, don't you?)

By the time we hit Redding we thought we were literally dying. I wondered how the pioneers had done this trek? Walking and riding in wagons in this blistering heat sounds hideous to me. We were really happy to hit Redding, Wendy's was in sight and we were fantasizing about giant ice waters and sharing a Biggy Fry.

We ordered at the drive thru, payed at window number one, and then proceeded to window number two for our stuff. We were excited to say the least. At the window, the boy handed us our order. We almost cried, the waters we has salivated over were the size of thimbles and they contained no ice! We were now sad little bitchy girls in a hot car.

I came up with a grand idea! From that point on we would stop at every rest stop along the way and fill our little cups with water. I know, I know...I am a genius! Without my swift mind we might have died out on the barren road.

At the first rest stop we doused ourselves with water from head to toe. It was sheer heaven! Then we saturated every item of clothing that we had in the car with us. The wonderful cold wetness was dry within fifteen minutes, so we just kept repeating and repeating.

When we left my amazing Auntie B's at 10-ish, we had expected to reach home by 6-ish. It was now around 9ish, the sun was just starting to set, and we rejoiced at the almost darkness. The darkness, brought with it some cooler temperatures and a relief to our pale sunburned bodies.

Suddenly, this trip wasn't just a trek of crappy luck. No, this trip was an exploration of human triumph! At least that's what it became for the two of us. We may not be the roughest toughest chicks in existence, but we had conquered the sun, mishap after mishap, gasoline drenching, possible dehydration, and starvation. While, us prissy girls might not have made it back in the pioneer days, we had made it through twelve hours in a hot ass car. We were warriors!