Say, do you remember those barnyard sounds toys from our childhood? The kind that had a giant plastic arrow that would spin around when you pulled the lever, and then for whatever it would land on, it would kindly inform you what sound that animal made. For example, “The cow says: ‘Mooo’!”
Well, I have a fun fact for you: did you know that the some concept works with certain inanimate objects?
Please, allow me to expound…
On this approximate day in history 9 years ago, the Boss Lady and I found ourselves embarking on the biggest adventure of our lives yet. I had just finished up grad school, and as a newly minted “doctor” I had leveraged my new credentials to land a sweet, sweet gig at a hospital in Hawai’i’.
Up until that point in time, both of us drove vehicles with a tax value of $3,000 or less. You know us, humble as ever, and all. Now when you consider that it would cost around $1,500 to ship a car from Los Angeles to Honolulu, and that we lived in North Carolina, it quickly became clear that our two beloved vehicles were not destined to make the journey with us.
My ’95 Toyota Camry had already had its share of misadventures, so we decided to sell it to some unsuspecting young girl who bought it to celebrate finally getting her GED.
Side note: you go, girl–don’t ever let the haters stand between you and your dreams!
As for the Boss Lady’s ’98 Honda Civic, it was in good enough shape that we felt comfortable gifting it to one of my family members back in Kansas, as they were in need of a more reliable ride.
Thus formed the basis for our big transition from NC to HI: once our lease ran out at the end of July and the bulk of our belongings already en route to the Islands, we would hang out with the in-laws a few days to catch our breath before leisurely road-tripping to Kansas. After delivering the vehicle and spending some time with my family out there, we would have the new owner of our car drive us up to Denver, where we would catch a flight to our final destination in the Tropics.
I had it planned such that when we arrived in Kansas after 3 days of cross-country travel (see FIgure 1), the very first thing we would do would be to spend a whole day at the Morton County Fair. Yes, I am indeed speaking of none other than the infamous site of the social PTSD I detailed in the hit blog post The Prize Pig Story, and a prominent staple of my childhood memories.
After 3 full days of (surprisingly) uneventful traveling under the sweltering heat, we made it to our last stop in Guymon, OK. We were pretty much home free at that point: our destination in the morning was Elkhart, KS–a mere 45 minutes and one state line away (see Figure 2).
I honestly couldn’t believe it. Everything was actually going according to plan…starting with rolling up to our hotel earlier than expected that evening. ‘Twas even early enough for a last minute respite of a little dinner-and-a-movie date before the impending ‘fun times’ with my family began. Oh happy day!
And speaking of ‘rolling up to the hotel,’ when we got out of the car upon our arrival there, the Boss Lady pointed out some water dripping underneath the car and wondered if we should be concerned. I told her, look, the car survived 1,509 miles of steamy midsummer day1Technically, this should be ‘mid-day summer’, but doesn’t sound as poetic. driving, so clearly it was going to be perfectly fine to make the 45-mile early morning trip the next day.
Several rejuvenating hours and 44 miles later, we found ourselves at the finish line, cruising into Kansas around 9 in the morning.
Well…sorta-kinda. Or maybe not at all.
You ever heard of the proverbial “last mile”?2https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Last_mile_(transportation) To be honest, the difficulty of making it the last mile isn’t supposed to apply in this context. But yet there we were, the Universe seemingly wanting to make an example of us.
We had one last turn before officially arriving in Kansas, and only one more and we would be at the fair (see Figure 3). I was so close I could even almost taste the wafting scent of piggy poo.
I pulled up to the stop sign, looked both ways before turning, and…HOLY SH*T why is it so hard to turn the steering wheel?!?
It took me a second to realize that the car had died, and glancing down I just then noticed that oh, yeah, I suppose it was running a bit hot. With no other real option, I pulled over to the side of the road in hopes that the billows of steam would subside and we could be on our way after things cooled down.
As I got out of the car, I happened to glance across the highway and couldn’t help but exclaim under my breath: “You have got to be f*cking kidding me.”
There across the highway, literally a stone’s throw away, sat one very smug “Welcome to Elkhart!” sign, relentlessly taunting me.
But wait! There’s more! However, I regret to inform you that the conclusion to (and the moral of ) this saga will have to wait until next week. Before I take off and leave you hanging, I do want to provide you with at least a little bit of resolution…
And now, the moment you have all been waiting for: “What does the car say?”
Well, let’s pull that classic yellow lever on the side of our spinny-toy and find out, shall we?
[Pulls lever, arrow spins around, just happens to land on a 1998 Honda Civic.]The car says: “F*** your plans, ninjas, I ain’t ever going to Kansas!”
Yes, that is most definitely what the car says.
To be continued…
Content created on: 6 & 7 August 2020 (Thurs/Fri)
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