OK, so maybe this weekend wasn’t as long a trip, or as strange a trip, as Gerry had in mind. But it was at least long.
The trip I took with my friend Jeremy this past weekend really started on Thursday, after Granddad passed away. As is generally the case when these things happen, we had an apartment to clean out. Dad and Aunt Donna took the first pass, organizing important documents and getting rid of a sizable portion of the contents of the apartment. Since Kelly and I are just putting together our first home, Granddad wanted us to have the pick of the furniture.
Because he has a big heart, Jeremy agreed to join me for the trip – we’d take his car, listen to his XM radio, load the truck together, and then caravan home. One day, three meals, in-and-out, no sweat. Or so we thought.
Confusion point number one started as we set out to shortcut to Rt. 390 through the Finger Lakes region of NY. Our intentions were good as we attempted to shave off part of the trip by avoiding a Western detour that 390 takes to avoid the hilly land surrounding the lakes. Let’s just say, we enjoyed the scenery and probably didn’t save any time – but 35 minutes spent driving through beautiful countryside is better than 35 minutes spent sucking in diesel fumes on a multi-lane highway.
The drive stayed uneventful until we arrived in Bethlehem, PA – after missing our exit and taking a 20-mile detour, we managed to get back on course. Only to find that Mapquest had us making a turn between two streets that didn’t intersect! A handful of curses and a little exploring got us back on track once again, and we headed to pick up the truck. Things seemed to be looking up – the A/C worked (it was nearing 90° outside), the gas tank was full, and the truck seemed to drive just fine.
We loaded furniture, an assortment of random stuff, and Granddad’s electric scooter into the truck, stopping for a dinner break, and hit the road for home around 7:30 in the evening. The directions were spot-on, and we had a stress-free ride to the familiar Route 81. Making good time, we clipped along 81 North as the sun dipped toward the horizon and treated us to a spectacular red-and-gold sunset. Night fell, and we pressed on toward the NY border.
Then, things got interesting. Specifically, one thing got interesting. One thing with four legs, standing square in the middle of the left lane, directly in front of the 16′ truck that I was piloting at 65MPH. As it looked up toward me, I stabbed the truck’s brakes and angled to the right. It looked like the truck’s cab might clear – even if the fiberglass box caught the deer – but the big doe bolted forward with about twenty feet to go.
A second later, I stopped flinching and saw red fluid spraying onto the windshield. I mashed on the hazard lights and dragged the truck over to the shoulder, realizing that the fluid was coolant and the radiator was spraying it across the front of the truck. Engine off. Headlights off. Grab the cell phone, and check the sideview before you get out.
I met Jeremy at the tailgate of the truck, and we watched as at least five other cars made sure the deer was reeeealy dead for us. Each one elicited a loud “oooooooh” or “ouuuuuch” from us as we began to chuckle – realizing just how screwed our trip had just become. Before I could even give our position to the 911 dispatcher, a passing PA state police officer stopped and spotlighted the deer. He dragged the carcass off the road before anyone else could hit it, then started a report. We started to wonder where we were going to sleep tonight.
Long story short: Tow truck. Hotel. Nice room for $90. Saturday Night Live – with Dane Cook hosting. A late-night dinner at Arby’s (that chicken I referred to in an earlier post isn’t that bad when it’s 11PM and you’re stranded in a tiny Northern-Pennsylvania town). Sleep.
This morning, we managed to find someone at Budget that could actually get us some help – and the help we needed was a replacement truck and a couple guys to help me move the stuff from broken-truck to not-broken-truck. We hit up Dobb’s Diner for a buffet breafast (mmm…diner food) then killed an hour at the restaurant until Budget called back: We had to go get our replacement truck 40 miles to the South, and a crew from LaborReady would meet us at the scene and transfer the stuff.
The replacement truck was picked up, complete with working A/C, and we hit the road once again. I bid Jeremy adieu, hoping he would make it home early enough to enjoy at least a taste of Father’s day with his family. Now, it was time to hurry up and wait. I bumper-parked the two trucks together, and started moving some of the lighter items. And finished moving all of the lighter items. And waited. And waited. And went to the gas station to get some water since it was 95° today. And waited.
The helping hands never showed. After an hour of channel surfing between the two stations on the truck’s radio, I decided to start without them. It’s amazing how much one person can move across a 16-inch gap between two truck beds. In this case, it was, well, a 16-foot box truck worth of furniture! I don’t think I’ve ever sweat that much in one sitting.
Finally, nearly 24 hours behind schedule, drenched with sweat, mad as hell and simultaneously thoroughly amused, I headed for home. It was a long weekend.
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