UHauls Should Die

So. Last Thursday we pulled into my in laws driveway in quite a glamorous fashion. We were driving something like this:

(I am still kicking myself for not taking a photo with Chad in front of our own for future posterity's sake.) The difference between the Uhaul in this photo and the Uhaul we actually drove was the additional footage added behind the truck. We pulled our 4-Runner on a trailer behind us.

As most of you know, I am not really much of a driver to begin with. I am content to sit in the passenger seat for moral support, but I don't really care to take the wheel myself on a long trip. So, if I'm not crazy about driving a car across country, you can imagine how I felt about driving the beast pictured above. If you can't imagine it, let me give you a visual: I cried. I was petrified of the thing. I had more than one nightmare of me driving, Chad being fast asleep, and the UHaul being balanced on one wheel, whilst I screamed that we were about to meet impending death.

That is why, when I took the wheel in the desolate wasteland that is known as Western Wyoming, I wasn't exactly jumping for joy. The 60mph winds only added to my feelings of terror as my sweaty palms gripped the wheel for the couple of hours that Chad got some rest. And if you think I am exaggerating, I am NOT. Seriously, the winds were trying to sweep us straight off the road. You know how that picture posted above boasts "gentle ride van?" Well, here are three words in regards to that: LOAD OF CRAP!

And while we're on the subject of states that weren't my favorite, let's talk about Nebraska, shall we? Lincoln, Nebraska? Not topping my list of places I'd like to end up. Ever. Right before we reached the city, we were greeted with lightning and thunder. We'd been planning on sleeping in our 4-Runner, but with the approaching storm, and after being in the cab of a UHaul all day, Chad's comment of, "Kate, I really hate to say this, but I don't like the look of that storm, and I think we're going to have to get a hotel," was not sounding like bad news to me. I started craving a hot shower. A bed. The mini-muffins at the continental breakfast buffet the next morning. Well, when we reached Lincoln, EVERY HOTEL ROOM WAS TAKEN IN THE WHOLE, BLOODY CITY! Apparently, the classic car convention decided to meet on a TUESDAY and take every available room. OK. Here's the deal. If the people at the hotels had been nice and helpful, I could forgive the citizens of Lincoln for this ordeal. What I can't forgive is how incredibly RUDE they were to us in each place we stopped. Let me tell you, it doesn't feel good when there's "no room in the inn." We ended up sleeping in the back of our 4-Runner, while hail pelted the roof and the wind blew so hard I wondered if we were about to reenact a scene from the Wizard of Oz.

The next morning we were off again. When I drove through my first mountainous region, things started to get a bit more intense when signs like this began to appear:

But, my favorite signs, were the ones that I would frequently see while I was squeezed between a bridge railing and a semi truck. Feast your eyes on this:

Are you remembering the dream I mentioned earlier? Because I WAS! Not to mention the fact that every time I glanced down at the speedometer (which was frequently, since there was NO CRUISE CONTROL) I saw, printed in bold, white letters the following phrase: SPEED KILLS, SLOW DOWN AND LIVE. Thanks, Mr. Uhaul Speedometer, because I was a bit further from an anxiety attack before reading THAT! Chad would seriously have to coach me through moments like that. It's a good thing I have the sweetest, most patient husband alive, or I would be in big trouble.

Well, the second day of driving we did luck out and get a hotel room. You know you've been roughin' it when the towels at a Quality Inn feel like Egyptian cotton, and the beds feel like the most comfortable things you've ever slept on. The whole fiasco left me feeling this way about Uhauls:

Having complained enough, let me say that I do feel so blessed we were able to travel in safety. We missed a tornado in Iowa by a mere four or five hours, and we both arrived in North Carolina in one piece.

Stay tuned. I meant to write about today's episode, but alas, this blog is too long. I'll give you a hint. It will be entitled "Someone Stole My Money."