Thursday, July 21, 2011

Diary of a Road Trip

Captain's Log, 8am 
Boise
We have just embarked on a long and epic journey to Salmon.  Given that I have what the two senior crew members describe as "inferior driving skills", I find myself revoked of actual captain's duties and have taken on a supervisory role instead.  Upon departing, the crew realizes they forgot approximately 8 things.  In addition, Angus, the youngest crew member has not been fed breakfast.  We return home to pick up the forgotten items and a box of Froot Loops.  Most of the crew members take the opportunity to pee.  We re-depart.

Captain's Log, 9am 
Somewhere between Horseshoe Bend and Banks
We have been stopped for road construction.  Having not taken the construction season into account, we begin to fear that the estimated time of arrival at our destination may be slightly later than anticipated.

Captain's Log, 9:30am
Still Somewhere between Horseshoe Bend and Banks
We have again been stopped for road construction.  Crew morale is slipping.

Captain's Log, 10:30am 
Garden Valley
We have arrived in Garden Valley and have stopped at a Chevron station.  Unfortunately, all the travelers who waited ahead of us during our construction stops are now waiting ahead of us for the bathroom, so the wait is substantial.  We continue to lose valuable time.  The younger crew members attempt to utilize a portable potty outdoors, but retreat, as there is a "frickin colossal" dung beetle on the door handle.  In order to stave off hunger, the crew has decided to purchase several three-foot-long pepperoni sticks, despite Captain's suggestions that they smell of rotted foot.  Upon returning to our vessel, Angus bangs crew member Charlee's face against the car window, which results in a minor "coming-to-Jesus".  Angus complains to the senior crew members that he has broken his ankle on a rock and requests one of the senior crew member's pain pills. The request is denied.  During the chaos, I am embarrassed to realize that I have forgotten to apply underarm deodorant, a staple for any captain on long, hot summer journeys.  We journey onward.

Captain's Log, 11am 
Somewhere between Garden Valley and Lowman
After consuming the majority of the aforementioned pepperoni sticks, along with a considerable amount of gummy bears and Froot Loops, the youngest crew member has informed the captain that he may vomit.  We have stopped for fresh air.  Myself and the senior crew members realize a serious error in trip preparation- no Dramamine has been procured for the journey.  Given the inclination toward motion sickness of the two junior crew members, this may put our trip in serious jeopardy.  While stopped, I utilize the opportunity to apply deodorant and also seek a solitary location in which to have an emergency cigarette.  Upon returning to the vehicle, I am pleased to learn that senior officer Mom has fashioned a makeshift barf bag out of the Froot Loops box.

Captain's Log, 11:35am 
Somewhere between Lowman and Stanley
As we continue our travels, crew member Angus has ceased his complaints of motion sickness.  The Froot Loops box was not used.  He has now turned his attention to the unfair nature of being made to use a child safety seat.  We find it necessary to stop so that senior officer Mom may take her leave for some fresh air.  During the stop, Angus exits the vehicle against orders, intending to urinate.  After much deliberation and "nancying around", he returns without doing so out of fear that a random traveler will see him peeing.

Captain's Log, 11:39am 
4 miles further
We have again been stopped for construction.  I fear that our continual stops are putting a major strain on crew patience, as well as delaying our ETA.


Captain's Log, 12pm
Somewhere slightly closer to Stanley
Despite strong urging against it, crew member Angus proceeded to eat a caramel apple sucker and has succeeded in getting it stuck on his teeth.  Senior officer Mom has confiscated the sucker, resulting in several miles of crying.  After repeated petitions for its return, pilot Mikenna has reached the end of her patience and has rolled the sucker around in the change drawer, rendering it inedible.  The severity of crying from the back seat has reached near-unbearable levels.


Captain's Log, 12:30pm
Stanley
We have stopped at the local gas station to procure more supplies, including cheese nachos and soda.  As we wait for other crew members to utilize the restroom, crew member Angus regales us with the tale of when he required a root canal and they almost had to put him down.  Despite my inferior driving skills and against my better judgment, I have taken over the driving responsibility.  

Captain's Log, 12:35pm
Stanley
Junior crew member Charlee has informed me that we forgot to purchase Dramamine pills at our last stop.  I stop again at another gas station and send her to procure them.  She returns empty-handed, as they do not sell Dramamine at this establishment.  We carry on without.

Captain's Log, 2pm
Middle of nowhere
It has been quite some time since any incidents involving the crew.  They are all sleeping and things are currently quiet. Despite being slightly drowsy, my spirits are high.  I am cautiously optimistic that we may finish out the trip uneventfully.

Captain's Log, 2:15pm
Somewhere near Challis
In a strange weather phenomenon, a torrential downpour of frozen rain commences.  Visibility is severely compromised.  Upon checking a calendar, we are surprised to confirm that it is July.  We shall make note of this occurrence, as typically in July, it is at least 50 degrees and too warm for water to freeze.  I slow to 35 MPH in order to account for the coating of hail that is making our passageway slippery and unsafe.

Captain's Log, 2:30pm
Somewhere past Challis
The torrential downpour continues.  The rain and hail has caused many rocks to fall from the cliffs lining our roadway and driving is difficult.  I make a mental note that it has been nearly two hours since I received any complaints or comments about my poor driving skills.  I vow to finish the journey safely in hopes of earning a reprieve from future criticism.

Captain's Log, 2:32pm 
Somewhere a little further
I have encountered a fallen rock directly in the path of our vessel.  Wary of swerving into the other lane or slamming on the brakes in fear of painfully jolting senior officer mom, I make a piss-poor split second decision and attempt to maneuver directly over the rock.  My judgment of the size of said rock was grossly incorrect and we are now stopped at the side of the highway, rock wedged firmly beneath the car.  The monsoon continues.  The senior officers exit the vehicle and discover a substantial lake of oil pouring from the automobile.  After several failed attempts to dislodge the behemoth rock, senior officer mom places a series of large rocks behind one of the tires, allowing me to slowly back over them, raising the vehicle and freeing us.  

Captain's Log, 2:35pm
Same goddamn spot
I have managed to pull the vehicle to safety into a large pull-out area below a cliff.  We have no cellular service.  Crew morale has reached an all-time low.  Unable to finish the last leg of the journey, I brave the rain to flag down several vehicles, imploring them to call for help when they reach cell service.  We can do nothing now but wait.

Captain's Log, 3:15pm
Side of the highway
The rain has stopped.  The sun is now beating down upon the car, creating a very uncomfortable climate inside.  As we are unable to utilize the air conditioning unit, we must open the car doors and pray for a breeze. Senior officer mom has decided that if "someone" can climb to the top of the cliff above us, we may be able to receive enough cell service to call for help ourselves.  After a quick visual survey of everyone present, the crew deduces that my jersey knit skirt and brand-new black converse sneakers are the perfect attire for a hike and I am nominated to go.  Outfitting myself with some emergency cigarettes and my cell phone, I set out to climb the cliff.

Captain's log, 3:30pm
Cliffside
I have made it partway up the side of the cliff.  The terrain is fairly unstable.  Given the recent precipitation and the loose rock of which the hillside is composed, the climb has been strenuous.  I stop to catch my breath and have an emergency smoke.  Looking down at the vehicle below me, I begin to suspect that the crew's desire for cell service may have actually been a ploy to get rid of me. I begin to question their motives. 

Captain's Log, 3:45pm
Cliffside
I have reached the topmost part of the cliff and am not surprised to find that no cell signal is available.  Other than one flurry of rain midway through the climb, the sun has beaten down quite fiercely as I hiked and my previously applied underarm deodorant has long since given out.  On a happier note, I have acquired a climbing partner.  A small black dog appeared about halfway up the cliff and she has been with me since that time.  Given the heat and fatigue, I begin to wonder if the dog is a figment of my insane imagination.  As it appears I will be unable to make an emergency call, I smoke my last cigarette and begin my jaunt down the cliff.

Captain's Log, 4:00pm
Side of highway
My journey down the cliff took far less time than the journey up, considering the amount of falling that occurred.  Luckily, my new found companion was there to pull me back from a fall to my death. It has begun to thunder quite loudly, scaring my canine friend into hiding beneath the van. Having made the hike for cell service unsuccessfully, I am now resigned to sit next to the vehicle, awaiting help.

Captain's Log, 4:15pm
Hell
Still no sign of help.  I fear a crew meltdown.  We are currently experiencing frequent bouts of crying and bitching.  I am running low on emergency cigarettes and the water supply is dangerously low.  If help does not arrive soon, we may be forced to make a difficult decision regarding which crew member to eat.  

Captain's Log, 4:30pm
At long last, assistance has arrived.  A tow truck was summoned to haul the vehicle to town.  We will ride along behind with our brother, who has brought a sizable vehicle to haul our crew and cargo.  A visual inspection of the underside of the vessel reveals to the tow truck driver that the oil pan has been obliterated.  Luckily, the damage was not more severe.  I was sad to leave my friend the dog-hero laying in the highway pull-out, especially after her attempts to save my life.  Perhaps future unlucky travelers will be aided by her efforts. 

Having given it quite a lot of thought, I have decided to step down as captain and turn my efforts toward more rewarding endeavors.