Baby, it’s cold outside, and that has everyone ’round here up in a tizzy. I reside in Texas, y’all, and every time there’s even the slightest risk of inclement weather, the meteorologist gets what I like to call his (or her) weather hard-on, and that’s all anyone can talk about. Do I sound annoyed? It’s only because I’ve survived some winter storms, some bad ones, and today’s Arctic blast is completely B Team all the way compared to the hell I’ve lived through with ice.
Walk back in time with me for a minute to the year 1996, a time in history when tweeting or facebooking your way through a trip was not even possible, when all the entertainment we had was talking to our families or playing the license plate game or “bury your horses” (that’s a real game. I promise it doesn’t involve any actual burying of horses), when cars didn’t have DVD players with every movie ever made available in a red box outside of your local Wal-Mart, and radio reception on long road trips sounded like white noise with hillbilly talk radio hosts some where in the background. Now, let me tell you about the longest and worst road trip of my life.
Some necessary background: I had this really awful car accident in November ’96, my first semester of my freshman year of college that landed me in a wheelchair for 4 months. Yeah. It was awesome. I broke my hip in three different places, inoperable places, so the only treatment was to stay off of my hip and take pills for the pain. Ok, digest that for a minute.
As typical for me, I had to travel for the holidays. We, i.e. my dad, mom, and I, decided to head North to Kansas to visit one of my four brothers for Christmas, and on Christmas day, we had what our meteorologist here in Dallas would call “A Serious Arctic Blast” and by serious, I mean, that the entire state of Kansas along with Oklahoma and Northern Texas were covered in ice. Covered, people, and the temperature had no plans to raise any time soon. We decided to brave the roads the day after Christmas with my dad behind the wheel, and my mom in the passenger seat. I took over the back seat with my pillow and my crutches, wheelchair secured to the roof of the car because the trunk was full of luggage and gifts.
The one good thing about my accident was the drugs. I had a severe head injury, too, so that coupled with pain in my hip earned me some serious meds. All of which, came in handy on this trip so much so that I don’t remember a single thing about the 10 hour drive to my brother’s house. The drive home, though…I remember that…and here’s why.
I woke suddenly from a very comfortable car sleep to my mother’s shriek. “Oh, honey,” she yelled to my dad, but it sounded more like, “Aw huuny!” because my mother’s accent is totally country. I love her for it. “Oh Gawd,” she continued. I sat up from my back seat slumber to examine the cause of her dismay to see nothing but cars and break lights ahead of us. Brick like blocks of ice covered the highway, and traffic ceased to move. Stopped. Parked. Nothing happening at all.
My dad got out to examine the ice simply because he got bored and antsy an hour into our highway halt only to find out from a trucker parked ahead of us that traffic was stopped for miles. The cause: the trucks could not build up enough traction to make it over the ice on the hills, so every time they would try to move forward, they would slide back.
We had over a half a tank of gas in the car. Did I mention that I’m in a car with my parents, and I’m eighteen years old? Remember, this is before smart phones. Another interesting fact, my dad was a preacher and refused to listen to secular music, so he used the time in the car to listen to sermons on tape. You read that right…sermons, as in lectures pertaining to the bible…on tape. As I sat in hell, I listened to the word of God.
A few hours and three sermons into our sitting still, I felt the urge to pee. (I know.) My mom and dad, along with all of our fellow stranded travelers found relief behind trees on the side of the road. I, unfortunately, could not navigate the ice on my crutches, and my wheelchair was…wait for it…frozen to the roof of the car, so I just had to hold it. I took a lot of pills, and I slept.
Drugs are bad though, children.
We moved twelve miles in nine hours. TWELVE MILES IN NINE HOURS, Y’ALL. And every time we rolled over a block of ice, pain shot through my rump, even with the meds. Not even slightly kidding.
Finally, we drifted into a Loves gas station on fumes. I rushed to the restroom to see what looked like a thousand women waiting for the three stalls inside, one of which, the handicapped one. I looked around. Clearly, I was the only handicapped person in line, but I waited and waited. Until finally my mom, aka my hero, said in her very loud, very accented voice. “I can’t believe this. Don’t y’all see this child’s handicapped?” Never in the history of my life did I expect that sentence from my mother to sound like music to my ears, but it worked. Before long, the line of women stepped back and each ushered me with their hands to go ahead of them until I reached the heaven of the handicapped stall and finally felt relief. I’m pretty sure I sat there for 10 minutes. And I sit, not a hoverer. You’re welcome.
So when I hear about “Arctic Blasts” and “Winter Storms”, I get a little perturbed because nothing sucks worse than being a handicapped freshman in college stuck on an icy road in a car with her parents for nine hours. NINE HOURS!!!! And that was just the sitting still part. The rest of the drive took twice that long.
PS: Should you find yourself waiting in line for a restroom, choose the one that’s specified for you, and leave the handicapped stall for the people who really need it. Remember…there’s only one.
PPS: If there’s no line, pee away.
Enlighten me…what were some of the worst car trips you’ve been through…with or without parents? Have you ever been stuck in the ice? For how long? Did you too have to pee?
visit and Thank you for writing which is quite good and best wishes always, and greetings
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Thanks so much for your visit!
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Your stories are hilarious! They bring me back to a simpler time when streetlights were the alarm clocks of playtime, and the scariest thing in the world was the dog at the end of the block that barked as kids walked by. Thank you for sharing your world. I am officially adding you to my daily routing: coffee + this blog = happy way to start my day!
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Yes, Juneau, this one takes you back a little. Thanks for stopping by and for adding me to your routine!
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That’s one of the worst car trip stories I’ve EVER HEARD. Total torture! Bible preach, pain, (at least you had drugs), road trips with parents, and not being able to pee…..WORST.
Once my entire insane family drove to florida and back. I was about 12 or 13 probably. I have one memory on the way back to Texas. I had to pee. Bad. But we were in the middle of effing nowhere, like banjos playing nowhere, and my brother thought it would be hilarious to make water running noise. My mom and aunts were shaming him and trying to get him to stop, but this egged on my oldest cousin. They both continued dripping and water flowing noises until bladder spasms started ripping through my abdomen. We finally found a gas station. I literally limp-ran inside, hunched over, gripping my stomach, while the whole van of nut jobs laughed hysterically at me. Or with me. I don’t remember. That part is a blur. I made it to the bathroom in case you’re wondering. There might have been blood in my urine. That part I made up. BUT THERE COULD OF BEEN. Here’s what happens if you f#ck with me though: later in the trip my brother’s lips were chapped. I gave him my chapstick. My cherry red tinted chapstick. MWAHAHAHA! The family still laughs about the trip into McDonalds for breakfast on that roadtrip when Tom walked in with bright red lips. THAT’S RIGHT. Never mess with me.
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OH, man. I can totally feel your stomach cramping. Been there. Too many times to count. I could seriously write thousands of stories about peeing mishaps. It’s sad really. Road trips were always hell. This one takes the cake. We drove home in another ice storm a year or so before this one, and my mother broke a tooth…that’s right…broke her tooth because it was so scary. I don’t travel for holidays anymore. I refuse!
We should take a road trip some time. Wonder what kind of trouble, ahem, I mean stories we could generate together.
How did I not know you had a brother? Who wears your tinted chapstick? We have so much to discuss over big trucks and tacos. Thanks for pimping me out. I love being your trick!
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I’m SURE I’ve mentioned my brother! No? Weird. We need to hang out more….you know…when we’re not being interrupted every two seconds. I do enjoy our Big Truck Tuesday Taco lunches. At least we get to talk a lot. Uninterrupted. Except for eating. But I can eat and talk like a mofo.
You and I on a road trip = 1,000 posts!
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The worst ones I ever took were when I lived in Dallas and I’d leave from anywhere and end up in Dallas. Dallas sucks. Lol. Sorry, Beth sent me over unintentionally from Facebook and I’m half drunk. I like your blog when I’m half drunk though, so that’s good, right?!
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Don what are you doing over here all drunk? Hey! We live in a Dallas btw. That’s okay. It can be an ass whipping. Especially if you’re traveling.
Mandi, Don may seem a little “special”, but he’s actually effing hilarious and his blog will give you more pee stories. Check him out.
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You really live in dallas? Did I not know that? where? I lived in Addison off the fucking tollway for a while then moved to Tarrant County where I was much happier.
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For reals. I live just north of Addison. So you’re getting this crazy ice storm?
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Man. I hate it when I’m the least drunk person in the room. Playing catch up. Cheers!
Sent from my iPhone
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Catch up, girl! I’m on my 3rd (probably last) glass of wine. Whatcha drinking?
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We got it, yes. I’m sure we handle it better than n. texas though since we’re used to it. So you live in Frisco/Plano area?
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Frisco. Don’t stalk me f#cker. Oh. You’re a cop. I guess I’m safe. 😉
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What? Oh yeah, safe. Cops are never creepy perves. Never! Almost never.
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Haha! Hey let’s make this blog the new hang out. Like Facebook but BETTER! Meh. I’m too lazy.
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Ran out of champagne. Having a beer now. Only because hubs was too lazy to bring me wine. (And I’m too lazy to get it myself). Yeah. Party at my blog! Come on over.
Sent from my iPhone
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Lol, ok, it’s your friend! Let’s do it.
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OKAY. I’m impulsive, therefore suggestible.
Either if you think schools will be closed Monday again? They’re throwing down some major drama on the news…..
I had to cancel my bday dinner tomorrow night dammit. Not so much cuz I wouldn’t risk driving to dinner, but our sitter drives from McKinney. So nope.
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You cancelled a tomorrow thing? What the fuck?
My wife’s birthday is tomorrow! Yay Birthdays.
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yay bdays!!!
Yes I cancelled. What are the odds the roads are going to be safe tomorrow night? I wouldn’t want my daughter driving home midnight on icy highways.
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If they cancel school on Monday, I’m going to need something stronger than alcohol. It will be better by then. The meteorologist just like to weather jizz all over the place when there’s a little excitement like ICE!!
We sort of cancelled our anniversary dinner that we sort of had scheduled for tomorrow night.
Did I miss your birthday?
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Happy sort of anniversary! Ditto to everything you said about Monday.
You didn’t miss it technically cuz you didn’t know about it, but it was Wednesday 4th. 🙂
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Well, happy belated birthday. Next big truck taco Tuesday is on me!
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That’s very sweet but you don’t have to do that! You’re going to need that money for an editor soon!
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Pffft. I guess when you say it like that.
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1,000 posts??? Is this a challenge? I’m in.
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are you sure this really happened or was it just a “bad trip”? I had to come check out your blog since Beth is singing your praises and since she seems to occasionally read my blog I figure she must be right most of the time…
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No, dude! It really happened. Thanks for stopping by. I’ll head over to yours next. Beth has great taste!
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So sorry to hear you had such a bad accident. At least they gave you such good drugs! I would have needed them to get through a car ride listening to bible sermons!
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The drugs helped…a little. There aren’t enough drugs for car sermons though…ever. Thanks for reading!
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2007 – 4 hours stuck on I-35 in Wichita, 25 yards from our exit. Yep, yards. With a potty training 2 year old and a 6 month old. Thankfully, I pack like it’s my life and we had at least a gallon of milk and a potette (my most favorite invention in the history of man) which is a portable potty. When we finally got to salina, we realized that our pee and poop bag was a solid block because we had hung it out the window after Sydney pooped 3 times during those 4 hours. Smelled lovely! And it was in the old tribute, with NO room to move.
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Man – I think your road trip just trumped my road trip. Potty trainers and infants are not always great company on long road trips. Bless you for making it through…and thanks for reading my little story. 🙂
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