Curse of Coalinga

[aggienaut]

And it makes sense for Apartheid to go on in Davis since Davis is ethnically made up of 25% people of German and English heritage - historically two very oppressive cultures. I guess it is just in this town's genes. -RobRoy (in "Davis Apartheid")

The Journey Home - a 25 hour odyssey
I. Relatively Distracting
   I finally set off from Davis for Orange County around 5pm, Sunday. First I got gas and stopped by my aunt and uncle, Ben & Bev's place because I wanted to drop off some honey for them. Arriving there however, I find that not only are Ben & Bev there, but two other aunts/uncles (Jim & Donna and Mike & Sherry) and the four associated childrens.
   They offered me dinner but I valiantly resisted. Then I had Mike help me figure out how high the oil was on the oil-checking-thing, and he thought he smelled gas. We dismissed the concerns however and finally I set off.
II. Pleasantvilleton
   Next I drivemobiled myself down to Pleasanton, about an hour and a half south, where Miss Kristy Heidenberger was with her family. Had dinner there, Kristy made a sumptuous dessert, and I ended up spending the night on the couch there.
III. The Curse of Coalinga
   Monday (yesterday) I left there around 10am, having waited for morning traffic to disperse, and commenced driving down the central valley. As previously mentioned, the gas gauge does not work, nor does the temperature gauge, and the speedometer and odometer are not visible in the dark as their light went out...
   But it was pleasant. It remained overcast nearly the whole time, which I appreciated, and everything was green. Additionally, Kristy packed me sandwiches for lunch because she's strong sauce like that.
   Then a mile or two from Coalinga, the car died. It just kind of stopped accelerating - it decelerated at the same right regardless of whether or not my foot was on the gas. I pulled over right in front of an onramp, let it chillax for a minute or two, and then successfully reversed it up the onramp (this is in the middle of nowhere mind you, onramp leads to a two lane road with no cars on it). This being relatively successful I drove about the road up there and the car seemed to have no problems. I got back on the freeway and proceeded to Coalinga.
   Pulled in to the same station as last time and filled up with gas. Hamid, the mechanic that removed the rock from Kristy's break, thus averting our fiery death, was there, but fairly busy.
   The gas tank also appeared to be leaking (while I was at the service station talking to mum on the phone, a puddle formed under the car's gas tank), but it wasn't empty and that appears to be an unrelated problem. Recall smell of gas earlier.
   And that wasn't even the first time the car broke down there either. Once before it broke down at Coalinga with Tobin in it. Or maybe it was the other car, but either way, Coalinga appears to be cursed.
   So I set off again and aside from getting mired in rush hour traffic in LA, I arrived without further incident.
IV. Homecoming
   After being in transit for 25 hours, driving for 8, and in miserable traffic for the previous 2, I arrived home around 6pm to find no one home and all the doors locked.
   Fifteen minutes later they returned (they all scampered off to get something noterized?!), with a mushroom and olive (and other stuff) pizza. I hate olives. I loathe mushrooms.
V. Postlogue: More Crashing to Come
   Reportedly, younger brother Eric applied his vehicle to the freeway median an hour or two ago. No further word on the effects of this. Developing...


Related
   Mother's Entry on today.

Comments

[alainedances.livejournal.com]

ew.... olive and mushroom pizza.....
first of all the toppings...ew. add that with cheese (not a big fan of but i can eat a little of it)... more ew

[tingsquared.livejournal.com]

Yeah, we had a flat tire a little past Gorman on the 5. I jacked the car up. It was beautiful team work.

I think the 5 is cursed.

[furzicle.livejournal.com]

The original Coalinga incident (as far as I am concerned, who knows about other people) was in 1974 when our VW bus totally blew out its engine (I don't remember the particulars). At that time the 5 was a relatively deserted highway, at least in terms of roadside amenities...compared with today. And you know how populated it is today.

The malfunction necessitated a ride in a cop car to the nearest gas station to make a call home to the parents, a ride with some dubious individuals who were in a hurry to get to Oregon to get back to our car, (but not in too big a hurry to make a sidetrip to pick up some beer), and an overnight sleepover at the side of the road. My parents came to our rescue early the following morning with tow rope, etc. They had to have gotten up in the wee hours to reach us by dawn's early light.

Turns out they hadn't known where we were and had had my previous boyfriend calling them all week to try to ferret out my whereabouts.

After a ticket for towing a car without a tow-bar and a wavery ride home being towed by the stout rope, we eventually made it home.

Subsequent misadventures include the blow-out of the transmission in the Eurovan near the town of Grapevine (2000?) and the rock in the brake event of last Thanksgiving, again, near Coalinga.

[thiswallflower.livejournal.com]

I'm telling you ... you and Hamid ... ::winkwink::