I Drive a Pedovan

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My friends think its a hilarious name. Blind dates. . . not so much.

This wasn't on the Travel Itinerary.

So the Memorial Day weekend was coming to a close and it was about time to finish the road trip and start heading back to Provo for school and such.

The drive over was easy enough.  We loaded my friend's car with snacks and a cooler filled with Dr. Pepper, and I brought a giant list of 'what if' questions I found on the internet in case the conversation got boring, so we were well-prepared.  Best of all, the route we took was fairly easy.  It looked something like this:

"Drive for 800 miles, arrive at destination on left." -Google Maps

However, on the way back, we had to pick up my friend's little sister in Las Vegas, which severely complicated things.  See, unlike Provo to San Jose, there isn't a good interstate that has been built from San Jose to Vegas, so our route looked a little more like this:

"Betcha wished you had a smartphone now, sucka."

Yes, neither of us had smart phones with GPS's, so we were forced to navigate the great American West the same way our forefathers did: with Google Maps.

My laptop was acting up, so I couldn't get it to print off a map at the hotel, so we copied down the directions on a sheet of paper. The trip was going well, but Google Maps was taking us on some sketchy roads.  We were on one two lane road in the middle of nowhere followed by another two lane road going through a village of six people and then we turned at the shotgunned sign and headed west thirty furlongs. . .yeah, it was like that for two plus hours.

By the way, I should mention that I have an irrational fear of getting lost, and that I get very nervous when giving or taking directions.

Anyway, we eventually got to the point in the directions where it said "drive for 127 miles (2 hours and 15 minutes),"  the step after that was to take the exit for I-15 Northbound to Las Vegas.  I-15 is close to the only interstate I've ever driven on, so I knew that if we made it there, we'd be in the clear.  I was finally resting easy.

Two Hours and Thirty Minutes Later:

Yeah, I was flustered enough to say Mormon cuss words.

• There are 259 miles between Disneyland and Las Vegas, Nevada.  
• Google Maps estimates the trip should take 4 hours and 15 minutes.  
• Buying the gas needed to get to Vegas in Orange County costs approximately $12.49 per gallon.  
• The car still needs to make it back to Provo after that.
• And Jake does not have the time or the money to go to Disneyland. 

This was Jake's reaction to this turn of events:

And that is why you should never give directions to, or take them from me.

Endnotes: Our car did eventually make it back to Provo.  It was 2:15 AM when we rolled into the parking garage. It's a good thing I packed extra crackers and easy cheese for the trip.

The Many Names of Maxibus the Man Van

Here's a list of some of the nicknames that my vehicle, a white 97' GMC Safari Minivan with tinted windows, has received since I started driving it in November.  Almost all of these were given by friends of mine.

1.) Snooki--So named because the Safari is somewhat wide and clumsy, and it likes to party.  Also it's prone to blackouts (such as breaking down in the Nevada desert or the church parking lot).

2.) Excalibur--Not really sure why the van got this name.  But I'm pretty sure the Safari and Excalibur were forged at about the same time.

3.) Pegasus--We called the van in the Arkansas Little Rock Mission 'Pegasus' for its swift transporting capabilities.  My van, on the other hand, would probably lose to the Titanic in an iceberg dodging contest.

4.) Maxibus the Man Van--The first concrete nickname the minivan received.  Usually shortened to just "the Man Van."  I'm secretly hoping that someday the Man Van will get some nice flame vinyls on the sides and a disco ball.

5.) The Shaggin' Wagon--No comment here.  Although I will point out how awesome it would be if I got some shag carpet in the van.

6.)Spank Tank--Okay, I guess I should make a comment that none of the verbs in any of these nicknames have ever happened inside my van.

7.) The Cuddle Shuttle--Sadly, that includes this nickname as well.

8.) The Makeout Machine--And this one.

9.) The Candy Van--One of my friends told me that I should write "FREE CANDY" on the side of my van and then drive around while playing the ice cream man song.  Great idea.  I always wanted to end up in the campus police beat.

Maybe I should paint a creepy clown and a rainbow on the van as well.

10.) The Perv Patrol--On a side note, another van started parking right next to me, and it's totally out-sketching my man van.  I'm not happy about losing my spot as sketchiest vehicle in the complex.

A Ride's a Ride

Well, I'm back in my hometown of Farmington, UT for the holidays.  It was a beast to get up here Friday evening with the packing, the cleaning of the apartment for cleaning checks, and getting ready to move into a new apartment (it'll be in the same complex, but on the fifth floor instead of the 3rd--I'll probably write more on that in a future post).  The biggest problem was traffic.  It took a full two hours instead of the normal one to get from Farmington to Provo.  It was kind of a boring ride, being all alone in my car.

By the way, I haven't written about my car yet.  Over the Thanksgiving break, my dad purchased a much needed new car, since the minivan is slowly dying.  He got a brand new Nissan Pathfinder, which is significant for family reasons.  My Grandpa on my mom's side lives in Tokyo and worked for Nissan for his entire life.  Buying a brand new Nissan vehicle brings honor to the family on a level somewhere inbetween sending a kid to college and being elected mayor.  Buying a Honda brings shame and dishonor.  Buying an American car is...'meh.' 

Anyway, this extra car allowed me to take one of two cars with me back to Provo--the dying minivan or the 97' Plymouth Breeze.  I kind of wanted the Breeze, since it gets good gas mileage and has always been pretty reliable.  It's the car I learned to drive in and is the car I drove throughout high school.  We named the Breeze TLC--The Learning Car--since I usually had my 'learning-to-drive' moments in it.

This is what the Breeze looked like when it was new.  Christmas tree green.  This is closer to what it looks like now:

As worn out as the car was, it still had some good nostalgia attached to it; like the time I hit the gas instead of the brake inside of the garage, or the time I accidentally hit a mailbox during my junior year.  FYI, I am a very safe driver now with a perfectly clean record, so please don't be scared of driving with me. 

Well, it turns out that TLC's windshield wipers decided to stop working the day before I was going to take it back to Provo, and I can't drive a car without windshield wipers in the snow and rain that's been happening lately.  So I ended up taking the minivan back to Provo. 

It's a 1990-something white GMC Safari and has been servicing our family since before I was in sixth grade.  The van has taken our family to Disneyland on many summer vacations.  During the last trip, it died somewhere inbetween Las Vegas and St. George, which was one of the main indicators that it was time for a new van. 

I wasn't too keen on picking up a vehicle that has a history of dying in the middle of the desert, but a ride's a ride.  The Safari  has got other issues as well.  It's got Kool-Aid stains in the drink holders and smells like McDonald's french fries.  It has the turning radius of the Titanic.  The driver side window will not roll up if you roll it down, which makes drive-thru's awkward.  I don't like having to open the door to talk to the order taking lady.  Also, the trunk will slam on your head if you aren't watching it.  Fortunately, my family keeps a pole in the back to prop the trunk door open when you need to.

I decided that in order to feel attached to the car, I need to name it.  In all seriousness, the first name I was kind of partial to was Snooki.  Here was my reasoning:

-It's trashy

-It's kind of wide and clumsy on the roads

-It's a party van

-I'm not a huge fan of it

-It has a short life-expectancy (too far?  sorry)

-Someday, it will be legendary (in Provo)

But in the end, I settled for a more manly name--Maxibus the Man Van.  Anytime I hear Maximus, I immediately think "Gladiator," which is a way cooler mental image than Snooki.  Also, I think it's kind of clever.  My roommate suggested we hook up a disco ball in the back and maybe get some sweet flame graphics on it.  We shall see.

UPDATE:  On January 9th, 2011, Maxibus the Man Van died in the Church parking lot; leaving my roommate and me stranded in Arctic-level temperatures.  His fuel pump suffered from a failure to keep living.  Maxibus has since recieved a donor pump from my parents and is on the quick road to recovery.