FRIENDS AND SCHEDULES

Robert — Mon, 21 Jul 2008 17:39:42 +0000

What would you do if you were on a road trip, and one of the four cars developed a problem after a few hundred miles? Leave the guy on the side of the road to fend for himself, or blow the weekend’s plans and roll the dice? What if it was two cars that had problems? Or three?

I can tell you what WE did… Used three tow trucks, brought in a replacement car from Vegas, drove through the night, left a Ferrari in Reno, and took part in a story worth more than any tow bill (or three).

Five of us headed to Tahoe on a Friday morning with high hopes, three Italian cars (Ferrari 355, Ferrari 550, Lambo Countach)and one German (BMW Z8). I was riding shotgun in the 355 as my Pantera is too loud, stiff and thirsty for an 1,100 mile trip.

WE LOSE CAR ONE.
We hit Beatty, Nevada in the early afternoon, fueled up and tore out of town. After passing 30 mile markers and two brothels, the “slow down” light on the dash of the 550 started blinking. Surprisingly, this light doesn’t come on when you are going too fast, but rather, when something is too hot. We pulled off to the side of the road, found the problem (overheated cat) to be too risky to proceed, called Vegas for a tow truck and turned back toward Beatty.

Don, the driver of the 550, graciously said, “Go on without me.” Ridiculous. I came on this trip to be with friends, not to worry about hotel reservations in Mammoth. Everyone else agreed.

WE LOSE CAR TWO.
Two hours later, we loaded the 550 on the tow truck, topped off the remaining three cars and tore out of town. Again. After passing 30 mile markers, two brothels and a cell tower, the Countach started to run hot. The Countach doesn’t have a “slow down” light, you have to keep your eyes on the gauges (and pay attention to funny smells, like coolant). Rather than take a chance, we turned around, called Vegas for another tow truck and headed back to Beatty… Again.

Now things get tricky, because we had more humans than car seats. Gary, not wanting to be the boat anchor, said “Go on without me.” No way. This was just getting interesting. There had to be a way. Rental car? Nope. Not in Beatty.

CHICKS ARE SMART.
Then, we came up with an idea… One of our wives could drive a car up from Vegas, and ride back with the tow truck and broken Countach. Brilliant! But, would any of our wives be willing to do it? Luckily, our wives are smarter than us; they arranged to have the tow truck bring one of their cars to Beatty and return with the Lambo sans-wifey. We felt stupid, and blamed it on the heat.

DID YOU KNOW BARS CLOSE?
Once the Mercedes was unloaded and the Lambo took its place on the truck, we topped off and tore out of town… Again. For the third time! We arrived at the hotel bar in Mammoth just before last call. Being kicked out of a bar might not be strange to some of you, but to be kicked out for a stupid reason like, “It’s getting late” is bizarre to a group of guys from Las Vegas, where the bars only close if they go bankrupt. But it was a treat—and a little tragic—to see the last-minute hookups. Don’t do it, girl! You’ll regret it in the morning. Oh well.

WE LOSE CAR THREE… REALLY!
Saturday, we left beautiful Mammoth and headed toward our next destination, Lake Tahoe. After a spirited, but uneventful drive, we stopped at a lodge to sit by the lake and drink hot chocolate—don’t mock; it was cold. So, it’s time to leave when we notice a pool of fluid under the 355 and gear oil still dripping from the rear of the car. You have GOT to be kidding!

NOTE: Women flirt considerably more with a man working under the hood of a broken Ferrari, than a guy with an well-running Jetta.

SUNDAY, ALMOST PROBLEM-FREE.
After getting the 355 up on the flatbed, we head to a friend’s house in Reno to store the car until it would be sent to a shop first thing Monday morning. We left Reno around 4:00pm and headed home to Vegas. We got fuel in Tonopah so we wouldn’t need to stop in Beatty… The small town eats cars. Note to self: Maybe Rever should do a “I hate Beatty” t-shirt? No offense to the good people of Beatty who fed us well and kept our drinks and gas tanks topped off.

As we pulled away from Beatty, the Z8’s oil light came on. We just laughed; Beatty wasn’t going to beat us. It had tried twice already. Turns out the BMW’s oil light comes on when you are half a quart low. Yup. A half of a quart sets off an alarm. My car (1972 De Tomaso Pantera) lets me know I’m low on oil with a seized motor! Ah, modern technology. We added oil, got back on the road, and arrived in Las Vegas safely.

THE MORAL.
You might be asking yourself, “But what did you do besides deal with cars?” Well, we did stuff we normally do: we ate, hung out, told stories and got sunburned. But the food was better, the chairs more comfortable, the stories bigger and the sunburn less painful because we stuck together and turned a road trip into an adventure.

The love of the road trip is one of the reasons we begin design clothing for people who love cars. Everybody needs the perfect road trip shirt. But even more important… Everybody needs a great ROAD TRIP. Get out there with your friends soon!

Flying Pistons » Break Down

FRIENDS AND SCHEDULES