Monday, August 26, 2013

I Hate Adventures


Note: this blog has been migrated to Medium, with the articles here available to preserve permalinks Please see this post at https://medium.com/@ianrbuck/i-hate-adventures-c92d9c7342f7

Moving back to college is always exciting, but even I wasn't prepared for the amount of excitement yesterday brought me. The initial plan was to take two cars and spend the evening showing Morris to +Eric Buck+Amy Buck, and +Ian Decker. Then Ian found out that his family had bought tickets to the Science Museum, so he was out of the picture. We also managed to fit all of my worldly possessions into my tiny 1996 Ford Escort, so mom and dad didn't have to spend their entire afternoon and evening helping me move in.



They understandably warned me to drive carefully because I couldn't see out of my rear window, but I was pretty confident that I would be fine.

Everything went well for over an hour. I was having a great time jamming out to Portable Sounds and was passing through the St Cloud area when my car started vibrating and making this weird sound. It sounded kind of like a flat tire, so I pulled over and checked my tires. None of them were flat, so I got back in and kept going, but a little slower than before. The vibrating kept going, so I stuck my head out the window to see if I could see anything wrong. Of course, my hat flew right off of my head.

Well great, that just ruined my day, I thought to myself. Then I looked in the side mirror and saw that the hat hat hooked itself on the handlebar of my bike. Crisis averted. Just then my tire shredded itself.


Luckily it didn't blow itself out, and I was able to pull over without panicking too much. Changing the tire involved taking a whole lot of stuff out of the trunk and watching the semi trucks very carefully as they came hurtling at me at 75 miles per hour.

I have never done anything so terrifying in my life.

I got everything packed up again and took the next exit to try to find a mechanic open on a Sunday. Hint: mechanics are not open on Sundays.

So I ended up driving the remaining two hours to Morris on a spare tire. I was amazed that it handled fine at 60 miles per hour, because the impression that I had gotten was that driving over 45 on a spare is dangerous.

I got to Morris 3 and a half hours later than I had planned, but in one piece.