When people so often ask me why I read the horrible Daily Mail newspaper, I can point to stories like this one, which somehow always escape being covered by U.S. newspapers:
A grandmother and son embarked on a once-in-a-lifetime road trip in a vintage Caddy.
Annie Koehler, 79, and Jamie Hutchins, 60, completed the cross-country excursion last month – traveling 4,200 miles in nine days with the windows down.
The duo traveled across the US — from Illinois to Santa Monica- – in a Cadillac he custom-made.
Despite dating back to 1957, the De Ville made it an astounding 4,200 miles in nine days, Koehler said in an interview – noting how the trip was all done with ‘the windows down.’
The retired trucker also said she needs a new set of tires – after making the journey at 90 mph and winning a couple ‘burnout’ competitions on the way.
Wait… she’s the “retired trucker”? Could I love her any more?
Lemme tell ya: among my several posts about doing a long-distance trip in an old car, I’d never have thought about having someone like her as a companion; but I would now, in a heartbeat. (But is there anyone “like her”? I doubt it.)
And by the way: 4,200 miles in nine days, with a couple lengthy stops for the “burnout” competitions… you work out their average speed — in a rebuilt ’57 Caddy.
Fantastic stuff. Thanks, DM — you made my day.
awright now you finally post about a car and a journey that would be incredible!
I think the “she” referred to the car and not the grandmother.
Cue Scotty: “Aye, and if my grandmother had wheels she’d be a wagon.”
My best: Two of us, Sydney, Melbourne, Adelaide, Perth, Albany, back across the Nullarbor to Sydney in 10 days. 10,500 kilometres.
On New Year’s Day we blew a tyre between Albany and the Nullarbor highway. Sealed road, but about as remote as you can get in Australia. When we left Sydney I’d asked my friend if he had checked the spare. So in the middle of nowhere, hung over and hot, reach into the trunk, and sure enough spare is flat.
Wait an hour for a car to hitch a lift with back to a service station we’d passed about 100k back down the road. Service station open, but just a little old lady behind the counter. “Sorry, son, come back tomorrow, everyone in town is an hour away at a picnic”. She did let me fix the tyre myself. I’ve seen it done but never tried it myself. So, after about two hours of swearing and cursing, finally got the tyre fixed. So I’m standing on the side of the road, with the tyre. Filthy, hot and bleeding. After an hour or so a guy pulls up and says “so, do you need a lift?”
I don’t know why, but I said “No, I always stand on the side of the road with my companion wheel”. “Fine. Fuck off” he says and drives off.
An hour and a half later, the next car pulls up. “Need a lift?” “Yes, please”.
Finally get back to the car and it’s getting dark. Proceed to put on the wheel.
“So” my friend says, “what did you say to the guy in the blue Ford?” “What do you mean?” I ask.
“Well, about an hour and a half ago, this guy with a blue Ford pulls up. Winds down his window and says “when your mate gets here, tell him I said to get fucked again” and drives off.
The only way you could have made that story more Australian was if you’d spit-roasted a koala for dinner at the side of the road.