So, a couple of weeks ago I was asked for a favor by a friend of mine. The same friend who tore down my backyard fence, punched multiple holes in my wall, cockblocked me and.. oh yeah, broke my ribs. Of course, everyone has realized by now this friend is named Jarred Douglas. Well, he and a few other potheads/initiates (Loud Josh, Mac, Jarred Sims some other people whose names I didn't care enough to remember) had decided they were in the mood for an adventure. So they set out to hike the App-trail (Appalachian Mountain Trail) in the middle of the winter. Sounds fun. A lot more fun than, say... sitting inside, getting wasted and taking for granted the joys that modern technology provide for us. When I was first propositioned by a certain dumbass Douglas, his request was a simple one. Since his mom, as awesome as she is, has awful vision he wanted me to drive the van she had rented back, so she wouldn't have to. As this was definately a scenario I could empathize with, I gladly agreed; especially after he told me he could make the drive up-state and thus, I only had to deal with the drive back home.
It's this point where this tale takes an unfortunate turn.
2:13 PM: Jarred, Josh, Mac and friends are dropped off somewhere right on the Tennessee-North Carolina border; which was also convienently the highest point of elevation in either state. It's at this moment where we were first bombarded by a barrage of snow. Luckily, I was more than prepared for this sudden storm. I was equipped with thong-sandals, a t-shirt and no jacket. However, I had made my promise and I was ready for the return trek home, or so I thought. The snow was piling up faster than anyone had expected. Even the weather personel on the radio were shocked. They said this was abnormal for a snow storm. The storm had all the characteristics of a flash-flood, just with snow instead of rain. Which was, an accurate description given there were frequent lightning strikes surrounding us.
So we're (Mrs. Douglas and I) going approximately 30-35mph at this point (on the highway), since going any faster would be suicidal in the massive 12-person behemoth van I was driving back. I could feel its back wheels slipping out from under me constantly, it was miserable. Then I notice the gas gauge; it was on E. If only the both of us would've listened to the infinite knowledge of Jarred Douglas earlier in the trip who had assured us we had plenty of fuel to make it all the way down the mountain. Alas, we did not. Even though we had only gone a few miles across the NC border I told Mrs. Douglas that I was getting off at the next exit I saw with a gas station, period. We did and suprisingly we got off at some strange-ass NC-Tennessee-border gas station/store/smoke-shop that was having customer appreciation day. So we pull up to this place, in the middle of nowhere and over a foot of snow of course, and there are these gas station workers, sitting outside grilling hot-dogs and hamburgers on this charcoal grill with this hilarious cardboard sign that says 'customer appreciation day,' on it. When I entered the establishment to use the restroom I also noticed they had a shitload of hookahs; aka bongs in there too. Awesome. Anyhow, Mrs. Douglas got her free hot-dog and we were back on the road; or so it would seem.
So we get back on interstate-25 for around.. say.. 3 minutes at most. Then IT comes. Boom. Roadblock. Travelality Check. It's somewhere after 3:00 (pm). So we waited. Then the first hour roles by; no movement.
5:13 not one inch; at this point I really really have to go to the bathroom but I really don't want to get out of the van with sandals on and freeze my ass off, I also haven't eaten anything all day but a couple of shitty fries from Arby's and some dissappointing gummy worms, which I wished were Trolli - Sour Brite Crawlers.
8:00 - It's dark, obviously. We still haven't moved, at all. I still have to take a piss, so I get out -in my sandals - in over a foot of snow and find a UPS truck to urinate behind. That's what brown did for me, I guess. Luckily we were one of the few vehicles that were able to crank out the heat the entire time since we had just filled up with gas prior to this debacle so I warmed up quickly.
8:30 (pm) - We're still sitting in the same place. The exact fucking same god damn place. I'm seething, unable to exert my outward rage in any acceptable form. Then it happens. Yes! Glory! A highway-patrol/saviour walks by our van! Mrs. Douglas rolls down the window and asks: 'excuse me sir, what exactly is the problem?' He responds 'Oh a tracktor trailer jack-knifed up ahead, and then another one jack-knifed ahead of it so the rescue crew couldn't get to it before they take care of the other truck. Mrs. Douglas then asked the exact question I was thinking... "That's it? So what took so long?" Officer: "Well rescue crews couldn't get to it. And after we got them both cleared a tree fell down right in the middle of the bridge. (I almost totally lose it at this point) Would you believe that?" Mrs. Douglas starts laughing and conversing with the officer. I am on the brink of erupting. Mrs Douglas then asks: "So when can we look to get out of here?" The officer responds: "Probably 10:30ish." "Alright," she says, and we wait.
11:30 - I arouse from my reclining position in the drivers seat to see headlights flickering and movement up ahead. I am joyous. Finally! We start moving. My excitement is hindered when we stop approximately a quarter of a mile later, maybe less. God fucking damnit. Another stupid-ass cop sidles up to the side of our van of misery and Mrs. Douglas once again, rightfully so, questions him. 'Hey, what's the hold up?' she asked. 'Another tractor trailer jack-knifed,' said the piece of shit officer. I thought you had just fixed that problem, we both asked. 'Yeah but right after we did, another one jack-knifed in the same place. By now, you'd hope these fucking morons would've seen a pattern; but not yet. It'd take approximately 5-more jack-knifed trucks, in a row mind you, for them to realize this and finally tell all the trucks to pull over. Fucking idiots.
12:00 (am) - I'm still sitting in the van, contemplating killing myself. The exact spot we seemed to have been stranded in had no radio signal - whatsover. Despite the fact that about a hundred feet ago we had both Charlotte and (Tr)Ashville stations. Mrs. Douglas laughed at that... needless to say, I did not. We spotted another officer walking by. So once again Mrs. D asked him what the scenario was. His reply was: 'Yeah we probably won't get through this all night, you better find a motel or just sleep in your car, sorry but we aren't going anywhere.' It was at this point I, obviously, was at my breaking point. I contemplated getting out and trying to falsely 'juke' out a car on the other side of the road and just die. Although I knew Mrs. Douglas couldn't drive home so I knew I was stuck in the land of the living, for now; and probably not to much longer anyhow.
12:58 - I see a plow truck finally drive past us on the right side. I am speechless. The same douchebag cop who tells us we won't move all night comes by again to tell us we've got a plow truck ahead and we're good to go! Yes. So we finally get moving. Albeit slower than 30mph the entire time but we were at least making progress. Meanwhile Mrs. Douglas is constantly asking me to drive, if I am hungry and telling me to let her know if I get tired, which I kept telling her, isn't possible. Even though I know she obviously means well.
2:04 - We finally get off of I-25, and travel onto I-40. We had been on I-25 this entire time, for a duration of less than 5 miles.
2:59 - We're still on I-40 and it's total anarchy. While normally I'd appreciate that, not driving a 12-person rear-wheel drive behemoth in downright abysmal conditions. I've never seen so many cars off of the road; I could honestly say there was minimum 1 wrecked car every mile. That's beside the people I saw wreck in front of me trying to pass me because I was going a safe speed in the only 'safe' lane that existed. I even saw this one dumbass white pickup truck try to gun it and pass me and another person only to fishtail and then SLAM into the median, like a bitch. It's always chevy pickup guys who pull that kind of dumbass shit for some reason.
5:31 (AM) - Finally we get to I-77 and unfortunately the conditions aren't much better than I-40. Although any improvement is better I suppose. Random patches of unplowed snow/ice/sleet still happen randomly so I still can't go faster than 30mph. Finally around Mooresville, exit 36, I am able to go above 40mph for the first time the entire fucking god damn trip. And then slightly past that I actually could achieve the speed limit of 55 near exit 31. An hour-and-fucking-half trip up to Asheville turned to 20 god-damn hours.
6:43 - I pulled up to the Douglas residence. Mrs Douglas goes: 'Boy I can't wait to tell Jarred about this! He will not believe it, I'm tellin' you Chase he won't believe it! I promise you!' Me: 'Mrs. Douglas, I can personally guarantee you that he will. I'm here.'
Chalk up another big RC (reality check) for C-McG-4.
