Our little motley crew has made it to Carmel in our cars from high school. Just as a recap:
Paul is driving a Chevy S-10
Greg is driving a late 80's Buick Century
I am driving a 96 Chevy Camaro
And B is in the Kona Nut, a car that needs no explaination
It is time to depart and make our way toward our final destination of Vancouver, Canada via Oregon and Washington. While we have only been at this trip for a grand total of over 2 days, some old habits are creeping back in. It is like we are all 17 years old again. This has some benefits and some downfalls. We are not the most mature bunch, though we think we are. And B is wearing that darn Vanilla Ice shirt again. Won't that thing die?
Honestly, we're a bit embarrassed to be around him, so we jet off in our cars and let the Kona Nut fall behind. This is pretty typical. Don't ever ask B to lead a caravan, you might make it the year after you planned.
We cross the Golden Gate Bridge wishing we were driving these cars...
...instead of the moderately reasonable cars we are in. But then we remember, we are reliving some high school days, let's do something stupid and reckless. At that moment, I grab my emergency brake and yank it high to the ceiling and do a bitchin' 360 degree spin on the bridge. Paul and B yell at me for causing a potential problem while Greg tries to emulate by smashing down on his e-brake and pulling the same stunt. Greg and I are obviously enjoying this much more than the safety oriented Lee brothers.
It is near
Eureka that we start to have some trouble. We've gone through about 4 barrels of oil just trying to keep these things on the road.
It is getting time. B calls in a favor and has another truck join the convey. Sadly, it isn't all that cool, but it might be needed just to make it to Oregon.
The fifteen flats of water than B and Paul are carrying in the backs of their vehicles are starting to weigh them down. I am getting tired of the same 6 CDs in my changer and Greg is starting to tire of the blue suede interior of the Buick. Yet, it is our inability to admit defeat to each other that keeps us going. We loved these cars, how could they let us down?
And then it dawns on us, we loved these cars because they meant freedom. We could go nearly anywhere. We could pick up chicks. We could go read magazines at the grocery store at 11:00pm. We could pile 10 people in them and go to a dance. These cars meant everything.
So we kept on, toward Canada.
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