Yes, I know, bad blogger. One of these days I will get the hang of regular posting, but my travel schedule has been a little light. After long festivals I age about 20 extra years and the most ground I want to cover is between me and the remote for Netflix…
Because of the relative sloth that has taken over my existence, I have little post-worthy material… but I do have one tidbit for you all. Over the past weekend yours truly went on a short camping trip up into the San Bernardino mountains, near Big Bear Lake. The trip was wonderful, with lots of friends, food, beer, and puppies playing all around us all weekend.
photo credit: http://www.interiorsbbl.com
The weather was both hot and cold, with warm days that facilitated runs to the old-school (somewhat janky) water slide near by. (It’s a lot more exciting when you aren’t sure those 1970’s era plastic pipes are up to code…)
On the way home, with my freshly serviced van, new rotors and brakes installed, packed full of camping gear and two tired, dirty campers, we sailed along at a good pace, having beat most of the traffic. Suddenly, my dirt caked nostrils picked up the scent of something burning. As the car in front of us was a brand new Lexus, I guessed it might be us.
Smoke began coming from the wheel wells once we came to a complete stop. After we popped the hood and there was no fireball exploding outwards (both a relief and a disappointment. Hollywood you have clearly misled us!) we determined it must have been something with the brakes.
Ah yes, that lovely feeling you get when you spend $400 and yet you STILL catch on FIRE, which was exactly what the mechanic warned you would happen if you did not, in fact, take advantage of his services.
We let them cool and continued down the road, hoping to limp down the hill and get somewhere with a garage. After a short while, the scent of burning rubber once again filled our noses, and we pulled over. This time however, not just smoke greeted us.
Boyfriend yelled for water, and I rushed over to see actual honest-to-goodness flames coming from behind the hubcap… holysweetjesusfuck!
Once again, my knowledge of cars + fires leads me to believe that a mushroom cloud of major proportions is coming our way. Hastily we put the
raging fire small flames out and I do what any self respecting adult who is *ahem* approaching 30 years old would do.
I pulled out my phone and called my Dad.
“Happy Father’s day Dad! … Um, I don’t think I’m making it home to take you out to dinner… my brakes just caught on fire! What do I do?”
Yes, just what every father wishes to hear on the day designated to make him feel special. His progeny in danger of meeting their end in a fiery death, tumbling over a cliff side when the brakes fail…
After some A+, top-notch, Dad-worthy advice from the man that gave me life, we managed to make it down with the car in low gear.
The kicker? After taking it back to the same mechanic they basically said there is no way my story was true. (Now listen it may have been a fun weekend in the woods, but none of the mushrooms from the forest would have made me see FLAMES Mr. ASE-certified-know-it-all.)
Someone is getting a shitty yelp review. And you can believe it ain’t gonna be my Dad.
Happy (late) Fathers Day & Ramble on People!