Worst Road Trip Stories

"Matthew Keyser" (teisco15) 04/11/2014 at 01:58 • Filed to: None

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Growing up in a small town in Indiana as I did, to go anywhere of any interest meant either a. paying to fly to where ever or b. spending an extended period of time in an automobile. Option b. was clearly the most practical and most often picked of the two. Road trips get boring. Especially when you are young, however our brains have a way of blocking out such monotonous, meaningless events from our memories. Because of this, when my mom asked if I wanted to go down to Florida when I was 10, I of course said yes! 24 hours in a car? Oh boy!!

Then I learned the reasoning behind the trip. My great grandfather had moved down there years before and was not doing to well in the way of health. We were essentially going down to Florida to say goodbye to my dying grandfather and settle all financial issues associated with that. 24 hours in a car. Oh boy.

Then I learned that it wouldn't just be my mother and I traveling to Florida, it would also be my Grandma. I love my grandma, and this would not be a problem except for the fact that she insists on taking her dog. Her dog is a poodle that sits on her lap quietly and obediently most of the time, but the reason this was really a problem is the fact that the dog got carsick. 24 hours in a car... ohhhh here we go.

The car in question was a 2007 Mazda5. One thing that you have to know about a Mazda5 is that they are not very large compared to normal minivans. This teamed with my mother's packing preference meant that space was an issue. By packing preference I mean that she had 4 duffelbags where as my grandma and I had a rolling suitcase each. Another thing that you need to know about the Mazda5 is that while the seats initially feel sporty and supportive, over time they become unbearably hard. So hard in fact that I at some point decided to sit on one of my mom's bags rather than the seat. I'm fairly sure this bag contained some sort of medieval torture device, but it was better than that seat.

After the 24 hours, we arrived at my great grandfather's house. This is another issue, but we don't have time for that. I don't remember any details on the trip home, I was just excited that I would be able to finally get in a vehicle that didn't smell like sick dog. The one upside to the trip is that my great grandfathers condition improved, and was able to get to living by himself in his own home again. The downside is that based on a logical standpoint, the trip was wasted. Emotionally, I am happy that I got to see him one last time, but not under those circumstances. I say one last time because this past year, his condition worsened again, and he did not recover. My mother and grandmother took another 3 week trip down there with the dog, but I had learned my lesson and did not take part in that trip.

So that's my worst road trip experience, what is yours? Can you top dog farts, sick grandpa and hard seats? let me know in the comments below.

Rainbow > Matthew Keyser 04/11/2014 at 02:02

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Just today I was behind a chicken truck for about an hour. The catch? Either the chickens were all sick or it was just motion sickness, but they were literally throwing up on my windshield. Constantly. I didn't want to back off too much because there were a lot of impatient drivers behind me, so I just had to stomach the occasional blast of chicken goo.

PetarVN, GLI Guy, now with stupid power > Matthew Keyser 04/11/2014 at 02:06

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The summer of '05, my family (mom, dad and I) decided to take a road trip with some family friends (my dad's friend and his daughter) from our home in Belgrade, Serbia to Zakyntos in Greece. In theory, this was going to be a fun trip, since we were taking my dad's K1200LT Grand touring bike, and we were going to take my dad's friend's old BMW that he was restoring. This idea fell through, since the women on the trip disliked the idea of going on a two week vacation in a 22 year old BMW, with no air con.

This lead to us taking the bike and my dad's friend's corolla. It was going well, since we had a CD with a bunch of power pop from the 1980's (Bonnie Tyler, the outfield etc.) but at one stop I decided to stretch my back and hands while the hatch was open. My mom didn't see my hands, and promptly slammed the tailgate shut. This resulted in severe pain, as my fingers gut stuck in the tailgate. Other than that, we had a flat tire (which took 40 minutes to replace, in 100 degree weather, with the car off!) Oh well, at least riding around a Greek island on a big, fast GT bike with quite loud club music blasting out it's supreme sound system made up for it!

Anon > Matthew Keyser 04/11/2014 at 02:14

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I had to drive my grandma 6 hours to an exchange student's house. My grandma, as much as I love her, is not a person you can be around for 6 hours in a small enclosed space. The woman constantly complains about everything and gets so damned stressed over everything when I'm the one driving .

cabarne4 > Matthew Keyser 04/11/2014 at 05:44

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TL;DR — a drunk driver hit us, and we had a bad accident.

Do life-altering car wrecks count? I've posted this story here before (one time won AOTD with it — back when I was cab591). Copied / pasted from a forum post, because it's early. The roadtrip itself was actually pretty great — Kentucky to Mt Rushmore in an RV, got to see a lot of America. How it ended, not so much fun...

In 2004, my family rented this 28' motorhome to go to a family reunion. That's 12-year-old me and my 14-at-the-time brother on the roof.

We were driving back to Kentucky after the reunion. It was 10 o'clock at night on August 4th. We were 7 miles into Minnesota, on I-90 east, doing about 70mph. My mom was asleep in the bedroom in the back. Both of my brothers were asleep in the cab-over bed. I had been in the passenger seat, but moved to the couch to go to sleep. My dad was driving. A Dodge Ram 2500 came up behind us, and went to overtake. The driver, intoxicated, ran off into the median. He over-corrected coming back onto the road, and crashed into our back left corner. I heard my dad yell "We've been hit, hold on". The motorhome began to slide out. The front tires hit the median, and it rolled over. The last thing I remember was flying through the air, spinning.

I woke up laying face-down in the grass, about 6" from pavement. My oldest brother is on his feet, helping me up. I turn around and see the front wheels of the motorhome spinning in the air. The headlights are dimming. In their light, about 50' in front of the wreck, I see my mom. While my oldest brother talks to my dad (who's trapped, upside down, in the cab), I run over to her. She's barely conscious. My brother and I trade spaces, and I go to talk to dad. He's screaming at me to back away. There's fuel everywhere. I find a small hole behind the cab and crawl into the wreckage. I managed to move pieces around and free my dad. By the time we got out of the wreck, passersby have stopped and are helping. My other brother is found, unconscious, under a wall section.

Police vehicles are on the scene now. They're asking my dad if everyone is accounted for. He says we're all alive, and ask how the driver of the other vehicle is. The cops stare at him blankly, and say "Sir, this is a single vehicle accident. There is no other vehicle". They explain to him that people fall asleep at the wheel all the time out here, run off the road, and think they've been hit. My dad is adamant that we were hit. The police put out a radio call for any suspicious activity. 60 seconds after the call is made, the truck is spotted 30 miles down the road. He's breathalyzed on-scene, and blows a 0.27 BAC.

My dad was completely uninjured. My oldest brother had a cut on the back of his head that needed 2 staples. I had a cut on my chin that needed 3 stitches. My other brother and my mom were the worst injured. My brother had internal and external lacerations, along with a mostly-destroyed liver. He was out of the ICU in 3 days, and out of the hospital in 3 weeks. My mom had two broken legs, a broken back, a broken eye socket, brain injuries, extensive internal and external lacerations, and a shattered pelvis. The first two hospitals told my dad that there's nothing they could do. She was rushed to the Mayo Clinic in Rochester, Minnesota. The doctors and surgeons there saved her life. After years of physical therapy, she's mostly recovered (and well beyond doctor's expectations).

I don't have a copy of the picture with me (those were all grabbed off my mom's facebook), but the police sent us a copy of their "money shot". A foot long piece of the truck's bug deflector was found at the accident, and it matched perfectly to the piece missing off his truck.

And now, the follow-up.

Because he didn't actually kill anyone, the worst he got was a DUI. He was sentenced to 4 years in jail, and was let out after 2 1/2 for "good behavior". :what:

Obviously, that didn't sit well with us. My dad found out that this was the guy's 5th DUI. He was still on probation for his 4th (which was in Texas). He was majorly breaking the terms of his probation. My dad called the D.A. in Texas. At first, the guy refused to take the guy. He said it was a high profile case, and he was up for re-election, so he didn't have time for it. So my dad emails the D.A. the story, with pictures. He also includes contact emails for every local, state, and national news agency that reports in his area. He then tells the D.A. that if he doesn't take the guy, the story gets sent to every email on the list. The next day, the guy who hit us was on a prison transport to Texas. He's still serving a 12 year sentence, with no parole... Oh, and my dad sent the emails anyways.

My mom's recovery is it's own story. At the scene, an ambulance and a life flight helicopter show up. They tell my dad they can only take one by helicopter. Who should they save, his wife or his son? My brother went by helicopter, while the rest of us got in the ambulance. The helicopter was bound for Sioux Falls Trauma Center (a 30 minute flight), while the ambulance was going to a smaller regional hospital (a 10 minute drive). We later learned that my mom would not have survived the flight. The local hospital pumped her full of blood until the helicopter returned. At the trauma center, she underwent extensive surgery, and coded three times. She was life flighted to the Mayo Clinic. The doctors and surgeons there did everything they could do, including several experimental surgeries. The surgeon who did her pelvic reconstruction literally wrote the medical textbook on pelvic reconstructive surgeries. Since the first day she woke up from her coma, my dad told her she was expected to make a full recovery. He wouldn't let the doctors or nurses tell her anything about the extent of her injuries, or the chances of survival (the pelvic injury alone had a 10% survival rate). Eventually she was transferred to a hospital in our home town, then moved back home as an outpatient. We converted the dining room into a hospital room. Three months after the wreck was her 40th birthday. The only thing she wanted was to be able to walk again. The day before, she took her first steps with a walker. A year after the wreck, she was walking with no assistance. She had a follow-up at the Mayo Clinic. We drive up there, and the medical team assigned to her case were waiting in the lobby. When she walked in, the head nurse on her case fainted. Doctors rushed around her, saying that this was a medical miracle. My mom turns to my dad, and (very angry) says "You said I was expected to make a full recovery!". My dad calmly says "I never said the doctors said that!". :D

She's got slow days every now and then, but for the most part made an amazing recovery.

zeontestpilot > Matthew Keyser 04/11/2014 at 06:34

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Your story reminded me of my own. On a family road trip, in a dodge caravan I believe in FL, I was sitting in the back when i started to feel queasy (this was pre-drivers license). So I changed seats with my mom, and I was now in the front passengers seat, with the window rolled down for fresh air. It was nice until I succumbed and threw up out the window. Now, I was young, and currently felt lousy because of my newly discovered car sickness, but when that/my vomit came hurdling back at me at highway speeds....the disgust is hard to rationalize. It covered mostly my face and body, and also some if it hit my mother behind me. My dad had to pull over.

On a separate occasion, I learned I shouldn't don't eat only hot pockets before a band trip (to FL, of course). Because if you do, you puke in front of the entire band of your bus, and since tour clothes are underneath the bus, you can't access them until the next stop on a near straight drive to Orlando (we marched in Epcot). Some of my fellow band mates were really supportive, they kept reminding me that I threw up. Nice people.

Matthew Keyser > cabarne4 04/11/2014 at 11:21

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that is an amazing story. It really is. I am very glad that your mother has recovered and that justice was served to the drunk idiot that hit you. It just goes to show that miracles do happen.

cabarne4 > Matthew Keyser 04/11/2014 at 15:15

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Thanks, man. Our family isn't religious, but we believe someone was watching over us. The cops told us that it was the kind of accident where they're trying to identify body parts — nobody could believe there were survivors (let alone no casualties).

cdakost > cabarne4 04/12/2014 at 21:20

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I really enjoyed reading your story. I'm glad to hear that your mother and the rest of your family recovered so well.

The reason that I write this is because I'm Rochester. Most of my friends growing up had parents that worked at Mayo. One of my friend's fathers was actually a flight nurse on one of their helicopters. It is because of this that I think I take it for granted that Mayo exists. To me it is just everyday life. But to someone in your situation, they are miracle workers. Your story made me stop and think and appreciate the place that a call home. For that, I thank you for sharing it with our little online community.

cabarne4 > cdakost 04/12/2014 at 23:33

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No doubt, we were lucky. If the wreck were anywhere else, my mom would have not received the same level of medical attention.

On that note, going through my parents storage unit today and found the original photo album we put together detailing the wreck (the pictures I posted here were copied off my mom's facebook). If I have time, I might just scan and upload some of the other photos — including 2 police photos. One is the "money shot" of the piece of bug deflector, and another is the RV at the scene — upside down in the grass.