The Caper of the Cursed Car

Yes my New York trip was fun, exhilerating and spectacular, but that was going to be a given anyway. The story on my mind right now though, is the story of our cursed car. We travelled to New York in three rented cars; two Dodge Chrysler Caravans, and one Toyota Camry. While our vetran long-distance drivers drove the vans, our youngest and least distance-experienced driver drove the Camry. Whether or not this had anything to do with the curse, I don't know, but these are the facts.

Due to the inexperience of TaTa, we kept him in between the two vans so that the other drivers could keep an eye on him. The motto from the start for all three drivers was "Don't try to be a hero;" if any one of them felt tired along the way, they should radio the other cars to pull over so that we could change drivers--everyone had at least one substitute.

Sometime during our third pit-stop (it seemed that no one's butt or bladder could last for longer than 2 hours straight in the cars) we all agreed that that would be our last one before driving the rest of the remaining 5-6 hours to New York. So we all piled back into our cars and headed out. A block later, TaTa pulled the Camry to the side and radioed us: "I have a flat."

So, EVERYONE pulled over again, and waited as TaTa began to change the flat. While we were lucky that the town police were kind enough to direct traffic around the car, AND that the flat had happened to occur right across the street from a garage that was nice enough to patch the tire for free, we were unlucky in that TaTa's first attempt to jack the car was poorly aimed and the car's body was dented ever so slightly as a consequence. However, the tire was fixed and changed and we were back on our way soon after.

Finally, we reached our hotel in Manhattan. At the check-in, the concierge told us not to leave our cars out in front of the hotel as there was no legal parking there and the police were quick to ticket you. Hearing this, the vetran-van-drivers left a person on guard during each trip made inside while unpacking our bags. However, the Camry somehow managed to be left by itself, and although it was for no more than 5 mintues, TaTa came back out of the hotel to be greeted by a $115(USD) parking ticket.

After this, the cars were parked away into a garage for the rest of the trip and we managed to be car-trouble free for the weekend. It wasn't until the trip home that the capers continued.

On the way home from Jersey, we began our caravan ride again with Trace in the lead with her van, TaTa and the cursed Camry in the middle, and Sherman and I in the rear. Pretty much all of the passengers passed out on the ride. Pwong, who managed to stay semi-conscious, kept checking on the drivers periodically via radio to make sure they were all okay. Even I had managed to fall asleep for a while. What I woke to, was Sherman calling out at Tata. In front of us, TaTa must have managed to dozed off himself because he had drifted from the left lane off the road and onto the shoulder, heading for the grassy ditch. Luckily, the rumble-strip on the side of the interstate woke him in time to wrench the car away from the median guardrail, back onto the road and into the centre lane before returning to the left lane. Amazingly no other cars were in the way when he crossed into the centre lane, and those any where around him had been alert enough avoid him in those moments. Needless to say, the drivers were changed and we continued on our way with Pwong now in charge of that Camry.

Although up until now it would have seemed that all of this may have been due to TaTa's bad luck or inexperience, that wasn't entirely the case as it doesn't explain what happened next.

What happened next was a huge rain/thunder storm and flooding. Visibility was down and a lot of cars pulled over onto the shoulder though our caravan of cars inched on homewards. At some point, we came to a complete stop because the road was flooded up ahead an no one could proceed--cars and trucks were backed up for miles along the interstate. As the rain came down we parked the cars and kept in contact through the radios. After a pause in our radio conversation, Pwong's voice crackled to us: "I've just been nudged." The curse of the Camry struck again.

When the rains had subsided, we were able to get out on the interstate (as we waited to the flood waters to disperse) to assess the damage--of which the thankfully was none. The car that had nudged us in the rain had cowardly driven off right after the incident with no sign of remorse.

From then on, we amazingly made it home to Canadian soil without any further events. Granted, the things that happened with that cursed Camry were impeding and intensely frightening at points, but all in all, it turned our trip into an adventure. Afterall, it's not like our whole trip was spent in the cars...