Previous Challenge Entry (Level 1 – Beginner)
Topic: Car Trip (07/18/05)
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TITLE: One crazy car trip | Previous Challenge Entry
By Brian Tolentino
07/25/05 -
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“Yeah,” Tajuan said, eyes fixated on the television screen, fingers strumming the Playstation 2 controller.
“Why don’t we stop and stay somewhere for a night?” I asked.
“Because black folks don’t stop in the country,” Tajuan said sternly.
It was an interesting concept, but Tajuan was an interesting guy.
“Is anyone else going with us?” I asked.
“Yea Joel,” Tajaun said.
“Joel?” I said in disbelief. “He’s not going to be much of a help driving with a broken collarbone. How is he going to drive your car? It’s a manual.
“It’s all good man, he’s driving his Mustang,” Tajuan said.
“What!” I said. His Mustang struggles to make it to Wal-Mart. He has to leave the heat on full blast to keep the car from overheating. How does he expect to drive across the country?”
“I don’t know man he’s crazy like that,” Tajuan said. “Oh yea, and he doesn’t have a radio.”
“Okay, let me get this straight,” I said. Joel is going to drive from Iowa to California in one day, by himself, with one arm, no radio and in the worst car imaginable. How is…”
“You forgot one thing,” Tajuan interrupted.
“What?”
“He doesn’t have insurance.”
I realized this was going to be one crazy car trip.
Our adventure began leaving Northwestern College in Orange City, Iowa at 2:00 p.m. Our goal was to arrive in Los Angeles by 2:00 p.m. the following day. I was skeptical.
“Twenty-four hours of straight driving is kind of extreme don’t you think?” I asked Tajuan.
“Dude, it’s fine man. We’ll make it,” Tajuan replied.
For some reason I trusted Tajuan. He was deathly afraid of squirrels, slept until noon everyday and played 4 hours of NCAA Football on Playstation 2 every night. But I trusted him.
The first 12 hours of driving were easy. In Iowa we cruised through “fields of opportunity”—or that’s what the state sign said anyway. And in Nebraska we encountered thousands of bright yellow and orange license plates that looked like diarrhea. In Eastern Colorado I was pulled over by a state patrol for driving 87 in a 75. Luckily I was pulled over instead of Joel.
By the time we arrived in Denver I was confident this trip would be a success. We were making great progress and Joel—despite looking like a poor handicapped bum—was also doing fine. But the Rocky Mountains shook my confidence. In the pitch black mountains the roads were difficult to navigate and the six inches of wet, sticky snow descending from the heavens and blanketing the ground made visibility horrible. I hated driving through snow, and the behemoth mountains surrounding me only perpetuated my fears. Every minute I became more anxious. So I cured my anxiety with junk food. At the next gas station I bought two krispy crème donuts, a yoo-hoo chocolate milk, a can of mountain dew, skittles, salted peanuts and M&M’s. I was set. From midnight to 5 a.m. I rode a sugar high. I was in the zone. Nothing could stop me. And then it happened. I was drinking mountain dew, swerving and weaving down a mountain road when my stomach began to rumble.
“Tajuan, I don’t feel so good,” I said.
Tajuan was in his usual sleeping position, eyes half wide, mouth wide open.
“Tajuan,” I said firmly.
Before I could finish my sentence I was drenched in a pool of sweat. My stomach was preparing to unleash its fury and there was nothing I could do. Tajuan’s Ford Focus soon transformed into a biff on wheels. I pulled over quickly, but the damage had been done. I was 19 years old and I had just pooped my pants. I ran behind a bush, stripped naked, and deserted my jeans and boxers. I was humiliated.
We drove into Los Angeles at 4:00 p.m., 26 hours after leaving Orange City, Iowa. Joel drove the entire 26 hours by himself and his Mustang broke down one block away from his mom’s house. Tajuan dropped me off at my aunt Vicky’s house at around 5:30 p.m.
“How was the trip?” Vicky asked.
“Well, I got a speeding ticket in Colorado, drove through a blizzard in the Rockies and pooped my pants in Utah.”
Other than that, it was a good trip.
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