Returning to home.

I missed the hell out of my family while away, though I really needed the time apart too. Before the trip, I had spent one night without the kids altogether, so it was time to let go a little, or a lot, or even My way.

On Saturday I stepped on it and hurried home. The tire fuck up, fixing it, seeing what a Burger King actually puts in the wrappers, last few miles were in front of me.

I'm the caretaker of the family, I run the show mainly, and make sure everything is there when needed. I run around fixing things, putting out fires, then I go to my night job (time difference) and play stock market, and if I have a spare minute, I fill out health insurance papers for homeless, organize stuff to those who get housing of a sort, be pain in the ass to my friends to get them to see the people I gather from the streets, making sure someone maybe will be left better off after I leave the place I'm at at the time.

I try my best to sort out world crises by putting money as much as I can to girls getting to schools in third world countries, and after all that I open IRC and play the shrink to my fucked up friends and enemies, who's biggest problem usually is the extra time in their hands.

So, life is serious most of the time here at home, internet access is a must for me to get the heavy stuff floating in my head out for a while, and I have done well destroying it on my part. Even my dear old mkoesel can't keep all the shit I write out of the good eyes of the readers of the post, my lately favorite forum to litter.

I wanted this car as much as I wanted it for purely selfish reasons. For once, I was not to think of the ecological damage, I was not to think of the deeper meanings behind my long obsession with the M's and I sure as hell was not to think what else I could do with the money I threw to this project.

This was for pure pleasure. First thing I actually have bought for myself ever, if we don't count clothes and toothbrushes in years, nine to be exact.

I kept picturing my kids being happy for me, getting the joy I felt while in it, and I pictured the world being a bit different after my trip just because I would have the energy again to tackle every little and big thing with full force.

I ran upstairs to wake up my son Julian, who has been almost as obsessed with this project as I have been, but with the passion of a four year old. I got him our of his mattress (bed was demolished while I was away by a runaway dinosaur, I was told a few days earlier), and took him to see my beautiful car.

I don't approve us parents posting our kids everywhere all the time, but in this occasion I have to say the joy he felt is best shown by a picture.

"It's not an M3 Mum! It's not green! Dinosaurs will destroy this one for sure!"

He cried for an hour straight. It took me almost a day to get him in it, and even then I had to tell him the Audi is broken and if he want's to see an M3, we must go for a ride in mums car, which has less doors just to make it harder for the dinosaurs to destroy it.

To this happy image it would be lovely to end this blog, but I owe it to the country I've been putting down all my life to write a summary of my travels still. That will conclude Lups in America, the first of the two (I'm so doing this next summer too!) road trip files.

Peter and PMS

Yes, it's a he, but he has decided to demand oil refill every fifty meters or so, and never shuts up. He also insists I'm never wearing a seat belt and the lost key still haunts me. I have no idea where the hell I put it, but I guess it's a tradition with me to lose one in the start.

There I was, running around gas stations trying to find oil in a state that only had pick up trucks in it. That was fun for the first hour, then when I finally got to the car again, the bloody thing insists everything is fine again. This dance was done twice before I just kept the oil can in the front seat so I could show Candy she's being a bitch for no reason.

Anyway, I called our dear race specialist and complained, bitched and moaned for a while. Poor guy, gets every Lups has fucked up again call, since others who have seen my "FML why did this have to happen when people are around" don't know anything about cars, or are as sympathetic as my old combat boots.

Oh well, it's not leaking so censor is broken, I have to ask though, what the hell was wrong with a measuring stick, I hate that Candy does the job for me!?

So, I'm now out of oil every 50 miles or so for a while, and then alles ist gut again. Seat belt isn't on according to warning lights often, and the headlights don't like giving me a view of the road or the deers next to it, but all this is still livable.

What does drive me absolutely insane is the start and stop. For the life of me, I can't ever remember where to shut it off, and every once in a while I manage to hit the bloody button and I feel like an idiot in the lights waiting to hear if the bloody thing will start on me again, or did it die this time completely.

I've done this three times, and I assure you, I'm able to read, and to remember almost everything I see, but somehow that tiny detail eludes me every time. I think Candy keeps moving the bloody button just to make me call someone while shouting like a maniac. That's not an easy task anymore, since Candy has destroyed my voice completely.

Because of the oil crises of August 2014, and I admit it is a small in the scale one of you remembers as the oil crises of July 2014, I decided to get a hotel room one more time, and just chill for the night. Beer was opened, and sleep took me back to Wyoming.

Next morning it was the beautiful part of the I 90, Montana and mountains, Idaho (still sucked, and this time around it was daytime so no money was to be made) and after the tire incident told earlier, home. After being so long gone, I hurried to get there to see the happy faces of the kids, the lovely dogs and the dear old husband of mine. That, as usual did not go as planned, But it's the next story.

Here was the last place I pulled over for, knowing a hell waits me down there after the mountains. As usual, I was right.

The Little Big Horn

This blog is supposed to be fun and games, but the reasons behind us moving here and for my a bit early midlife crises are not. We all have someone who means the world to us, and for me it was my dad. He passed away a year and a half ago, after a short time of being sick, and I got to enjoy the hell with the remaining family members and I getting along even better than before.

The thing about my father was that he was always handing out lessons about life and us humans, and the battle of the Little Big Horn was used as my favorite example when I was five. It was just about all I wanted to talk about so naturally finding myself 40 miles from it by accident was strange.

I rarely had any reception on this trip, but this time I got a message through to ask my spouse if it was wise for me to go there, and the answer was to go. So, I found the balls, drove in, and waited in the car trying not to cry because of all the memories of understanding the differences in our cultures just rolled over me.

The battle of the LBH represents to me the battle of understanding different ways and the will to crush others for their different ways, the concept of freedom and how hard it is to us all to accept.

I listened the tour guide for a while trying to get the grips of myself, and to understand that he explains it all differently just for the cultural differences, but after a while I just choose to hop into Peter and get the sarcasm flowing again. So here is the worst of all the pictures taken ever. The blondie from Europe on a tomb of a destroyer of ways of life, and a Bimmer, giving us Europeans two points in this picture as the accepting and nice.

I thought the no stepping on the grave was an extra nice touch.


As a place it's unreal. You can drive down this beautiful road, see wild horses running around, and feel the ancient ways of life around you, and I for one felt tiny.

 It was there and I went all poetic about the life it has seen.

Peter wanted to show horse power horse power, I had to spend serious time finding out the right buttons to shut him up. That ended up well but no extra horses were added after this shot to Peter or my fridge.

 If any of you ever have a chance, just go. It is beautiful and a place that makes one think life and love, generations before us, and the lessons in life we have yet to master.

Same caption as above

 To these I did not step on.

America is weird. You expect a lot of different things, but like this flower beside a road that was build to go around the graves, it too seemed to be out of place like I was.

Bravely I took a picture of the native grave memorial, but that I felt was too personal to share with you. Then Lups was on her last leg of the way back home. Well, so I thought.

Midlife Crises

This is considered a guy thing, you get to go insane at the age of 45 and no one thinks worse of you. My friend, known at the forum as Powerslide gave me a lot of good tips on this subject, and I have indeed followed his advises extremely well on my trip. He said he has stretched his for five years now, and still going strong at it. I hope I have learned enough to do the same.

Every good midlife crises demands an idiotic car, a blond in the front seat, and a stupid, stupid plan that can not be followed. I had one of them down by nature, so only a car was missing and the planning being my forte, I had this all down.

Car, the blond and most of all a wallet full of cards were packed and a complete 180 from normal life was ready be experienced. A friend played my travel agent, I contacted him every time when I finally hit the wall with the roads, and needed a bed and a drink or a minute or two with an internet connection. A great arrangement, I literally have no idea what my credit card bill will say next month, since I handed over numbers to him and told him to deal with it. Oh well, after the car, who's counting?

 I took the time to think what I'm to do next with my life, what I want to do, and what is needed to make the necessary changes to achieve them. I, like many others think best when I have an other thing going on, and the will to live comes clear just about two seconds before one realizes that the bloody Candy has once again changed the kilometers to miles, and the corner is really not that fast and the slide down the rocky mountain will be one of speed if something is not done now.

Too many have commented that 32 is too young to have this particular crises, but I disagree. Hell, my time away was insanely fun. I call this in public my AD, American delivery, but truth is, the crises is now in full fling!

 I did everything stupid on this trip, today a tire had a nail in it, and instead of driving to the good part of town, I headed straight to a biker bar to get advice. No idea what could have gone wrong with that one, but sure as hell I enjoyed getting a bearded escort showing me the way to the tire store! As a way to arrive, an epic one.

Thanks again boys with beards and bad attitudes, you were great gentleman after the tit conversation was done, and help indeed was needed!

All my trip I tried to get a photo of this idiotic contraption, and finally a rest area provided me one. You can see these everywhere, something huge and slow towing an other, that is huge and slow. A destination car. I thought we Europeans had the sole privilege of camper vans and other road blocks, but doing this 9 000 kilometers on your roads have proven me wrong. The idiocy one sees here is beyond ours. We just are stuck driving behind something that moves slower than the idiot cousins speech at the wedding you never wanted to go to. Here, they park on the left lane, over taking trucks that eventually give the rest of us a break and just slow down enough that the thing towing something stupid can actually pass them by. Of course this is always happening in the only corner for miles, and I can only picture the truck drivers face when he sees that in the mirrors. Sorry guys, I will never ever blame you for destroying my runs, now I know better.

Other thing that pisses me off and after the first dozen times stopped being funny was men, grown ass men leaving their cards, contact info's and so on on my car. Every bloody morning someone, or more than one cards were on the wipers, door handles, what ever, and always with something nice written to it to help me remember their names.

"Hi, it's John/ Patric/ Irene (!!!), I'm the one who asked how fast your car is. Call me."

 In order for me to call anyone, a major crises is going on at that moment, and I need some info straight away. This was witnessed by one tire pressure go to guy today, since everyone else seemed to be asleep. Sorry for waking you up, btw. I have no idea who they are, but apparently men buy these things to get ladies, and a female buying one is needing a man fast.

As a general rule, I see not cheating on your spouse as the main one to hold a relationship in reign. I now have a trash bag in the car just for these, since the eco mental in me refuses to throw trash to the ground.

I highly doubt anyone will call to anyone who touches their car, I certainly will not, if scratches are not found.

Anyway, I had one more stop on my way from Sioux Falls to home, and that will be an other story to share.

The road

Sometimes driving is the only thing to give me the clarity to think things trough. Sometimes a long stretch in front of me brings me the relief of free thinking that often eludes me in the real world. That happened yesterday too, and three things were discovered.

1. I hate meth heads. Two idiots didn't like my car or me behind the wheel and it was so close people didn't get killed and Peter trashed, I still can't believe I got away from that one. I'm pretty happy about my ability to act first, shake and go trough the emotions later. I don't know what exactly was their motive, but I sure as hell know only the turbos saved my ass on that one. Thanks Peter II, you will never have to get the American shitty petrol in you for this.

2. The M4 handles side winds really well. I had the time and the open roads to test this, and of course I didn't go faster than the speed limit, which I kind of translated to kph's and then just kept my eyes on the mileometer.  Worked just fine, didn't feel like a bad ass let loose trashing your roads at all.

3. I will never calculate my average speed again.

Here are the pictures from yesterday.

 When they say it's raining in Indiana, it's a flood. I've seen a lot of weather, but this was a bitch. Speeds went down nicely though.

Sun set in and we watched it together with Peter II, I cussed like a sailor when I realized my favorite thing in the world, driving at night will be fucked again by the lights, and I swore I'd find a person to trade the idiot edition leds to norms. 

Now, the people who have met me have had people sending them Pm's about pics of me, what I look like. I think that's just bloody stupid, it should not matter. For the life of me, I can't remember caring for shit for looks of anyone, but here is how bad it gets after a ten hour drive and 2 hours slept the night before.

Stop asking my friends for shit they will never give out. There is a reason why they are my friends.

My time at car forum is at an end, I think. I get enough shit in real life, and this blog plus the thread of notes have just made it hard to see the good people as I used to see. We'll see.

I have two nights on the road left, and a summary to write. Then it's a life of new adventures.

Indianapolis

In my everyday life, I have to be in control always. I have to know what I'm doing, when, I have schedules that would make the busiest of you cry, and the list of responsibilities is sometimes too much even for me.

Don't get me wrong, I love my life, but every once in a while it is much.

For the last 4 nights Peter and I have been sleeping mostly, first was the the Arch city and two days of rest, trying to regroup. Then I kind of got at it with Candy again, and just decided that it's not worth it, she can lead. We went back to Indiana. Indianapolis to be exact.

I got us places to park (well that's how I see hotels) and I went for a pint and after the idiot pilot crew gave up ("What happens in the road, stays on the road with us, so why not with you too" Ummmm, I was polite trying to explain to grown ass men that I'm not with the one I'm with to get my kicks from cheating on him, I'm with him because I want to be there. Fucking idiot American men.), I met one of the weirdest men I've ever known.

Stu, if you ever read this, yes, it's you!

At some times in life you find someone you can talk to, and unlike therapist, the open conversation about life happens with no barriers, no time limit. We walked for miles trough the downtown of Indianapolis (never ever will I be able to pronounce that one), he and I shared an interest in the same stupid things like plants and wildlife, we talked about life and loss.

 

I think this part of America took a big hit whit us Europeans coming here. Apparently this is how it was before us, and now the whole state looks like a corn field it is.

Turtles in the sun, we envied them for getting to go to the water, though the water might have killed us humans. 

 Funny memorial statue. I think one has to be European to laugh at that, but I indeed did.

To me, it's a complete rarity to tell anyone what's going on with me, and how different events affected me. How different people and their doings affect me. Sometimes it's just so darn good to learn to let go a little, and say out loud all the things that went down wrong, right and most of all, what the future is going to bring.

 Thank you Stu, I hope we meet again and never lose the ability to say fuck the facades!


Now, my deeply confusing and consuming day took an other turn in the evening, a storm hit Indianapolis, and afterwards the city smelled to clean and pure, I decided to take Peter II for a spin. After pealing respectable amount of rubber to the roads, since the ankle is starting to feel pretty darn good, and with that also the control of the clutch is getting better, Lups did what Lups does the best, fucked up in a way only I can.


There is a time and a place for everything. I love gloating more than anything when it comes to cars, since the real car fans get so pissed, and the rest don't care. I was pulling in the hotel, and a man with a 328i decided to destroy his rim in front of me. I laughed so hard, I actually said how the fuck can anyone be that much of an idiot, and less than 1 minute later, I was looking at this.

I did the same thing in the exact same spot, and I could not stop laughing, karma is such a bitch at times. Unlike the 328 driver, I couldn't sleep till I had a way to fix this, so I texted every soul I know in Indiana, with not many cuss words told what had happened, and got an address for the morning. Peter II and I were going to hit the road to maybe west, but I couldn't let him go to the road looking like an idiot had driven him.

After coffee, I called the firm recommended and pulled into their parking lot. After few tears, bitching and moaning, they let me wander around the facility to see how bad other people have done this, and thank you all, it helped a lot!

Bad picture but all my horrible work disappeared with those guys, and let's be honest, it wasn't even that bad to begin with. Peter and I were ready do serious miles.

St Louis

I took a break from the road, stayed two nights at the same place, ate a food with a salad, slept, and most of all rested. Soon car wash and off to the road I go.

Candy has ideas, and I have none, so let's see in the evening where the road took me.

I have to say this, that the staff in hotels have been so badly treated by the customers, that a little kindness gets me just about everything. I've never paid for a breakfast on this trip, since someone always gives me a ticket for it. I've never been without the best parking place, and in many hotels the valets go and check on Peter on their breaks, just to see if the cones they have in many places put around it, are still there.

My favorite one was Pete, a 50+ man, who really needed just a few kind words, and he took his break just to show me how to get to a shop last night. One of the drivers of this hotel went trough the trouble of driving to the Arch just to see how bad the roads are there so I wouldn't mess up Peter II. That's true kindness and it doesn't even go to the blond perk category, since it's just people returning a favor.


So next time when you feel like being mean to the people you see as the ones that will never mean anything to you, remember that in all of my life I have had more help from the people that most just ignore. Most people just want to be above the rest, and with that attitude condemn themselves at least in my eyes as the lowest scum on earth.

Kansas City

So it turns out, I didn't make it there. Candy and I had a little bit of a different view in the direction again, and today I'll just play tourist in the ST Louis. For the first time I booked the hotel room for two nights, just to keep myself off the roads.

For a Finn, this city is an exciting one. The Gateway Arch was designed by one of my favorite architects of all times, and today I'm going all touristy. I will update this after going to see the riots, if I live trough it.

The AMG bloke I drove with for a bit in the start of Peter and my joined life apparently wrote about the meet too. It translated into a complete mess by google, and the pictures are already here, so I don't think I'll bother with the link.

That can be found there, and all I know is the exclamation marks probably are there to point out that hey he saw a female car geek.

Hell of hotel life

I can take a lot. I usually care a little when people try their best to annoy the living hell out of me, but what I can't take is screaming females.

Ladies, it's really annoying, if you can't stfu, please just at least try to do that when others are not around.

Every hotel for the last few days have been ran over by bachelorette (or what ever the word is ) parties. I understand, last night of freedom and all but just bloody hell tone it down!

Yesterday I had the pleasure of going into an elevator with a group of these, and the ride was not long, but but my ears were bleeding in the end. While exiting, I asked them how old they are, and because I have a tendency to try to fix world problems (and I like being a bitch), after one of them asked me why I wanted to know, I just told her nicely that I know hell now, since spending time with you was it.

I know it's  a lot to ask, but for once ladies, just for fucking once: Speak, laugh, have fun, don't scream your head of as the answer to everything. It is really frustrating to the rest of us, and WE (I) want to keep the image of smart ladies even if it indeed is an image only.

Oh, even in this town/ city which name I don't remember, it's pointless to come after me with the whole I'm four times wider than you, I'll kick your ass thing. I'm not backing down, so just come on then!

Group photo of the hens.

The things you notice here are the amount of churches. This one was located handily at a deer crossing. Didn't go in and check, but there is a chance they get their population to put underground from the deer. Sneaky church folks. I have no idea where that photo was taken from, I think I was still stuck in traffic in Atlanta. 

The hotel didn't have parking spots that were safe unless you valeted (or what ever the form of the word is). This is the brave valet who jumped in after trying to get the keys from me for a while. The conversation about letting him drive it was a short and to the point kind again.


Anyway, going downstairs to get coffee and the name of the town/ city. I forgot it.


As an update: Ladies, eye rolling? Really? I still don't give a fuck. Just stay as quiet as you were today with your hangovers, and I'm happy and won't bite.

Karussell meet II

Yes I got there! Of course I didn't get to the right house, but I blame the house number system here, and he hid his red car so well and was only waving on the yard, how was I to notice?

Anyway, the thing is, I really do meet the coolest of the cool. Unfortunately  my great skills with human interactions also makes sure I do first impressions well!

So there he was, on his own lawn listening to an endless rant about the crew in my car. I think it was safe to say he was glad to jump behind the wheel of Peter just to hurry to get to dinner, so I could be silenced.

First thing about guys like him you notice is how calm they are. He knows his shit, no need to act at all. This is funny, since most people (me) are all ego, and that's all we have to give. Him, calm.

It took him two seconds to fix my tiny side ways problem, and I can't believe how much of an idiot I had been.

Peter, on his first service never left my presence. I went to the back with him and all. The only time it got out of my sight was Lups had her coffee, and that's when the tires were done. Needless to say, I didn't check, I've only been complaining about those, and no, never did anything about it. Anyway, after deflating them he gave me a lecture about not letting BMW dealers touch the tires, Anna's ego was a bit bruised and off we went.

Meeting a car dude who knows his shit was going well as you can see. I give him the full credit on keeping his calm at all times, apparently someone else has been worse than I. Thank you, who ever you are. Just Thank You.

You know the dude has hung out with Finns before when even for a burger the place is named like this. Even better, he let me eat his jalapenos so I was in heaven.

***WARNING!!! I HADN'T HAD COFFEE BEFORE WRITING THIS AND YOU BLOODY PERVS POINTED THAT OUT ALREADY. I'M TALKING ABOUT ABOUT A G E A R K N O B, AND I READ IT ALREADY, IT TRANSLATED REALLY BADLY.. The only reason I don't fix this or erase it is because I can't help it. I just love complete fuckups. *** have your laugh, I sure as hell did. Lets just see how understanding man I have in my life then.


We had dinner, I took him back to his house he trashed everything from my seating position to my careless style to steer,and I just loved it. I actually tried to learn something Karussell, I had two hands on the wheel at least 4 times on my way back. The dude knows his shit, and every tip gotten will be remembered and I truly had the time of my life, thanks J.

We went in to make coffee, and he showed me this knob. Needless to say, it had to be tested. In my life, I have done a lot. I have never before taken a gear knob to a test drive. as sure as hell that was one of the funniest situations in a long time. For two adults to do that, stupid. Two bimmer fan boys (I'm mainly man anyway, so why mention options), normal stuff.

 

 GA is apparently a place with the only icing bridges in the world.  I couldn't believe this, but every bloody bridge had this sign on it.

 You can take a nap or text your life's story around here before coming to a corner, and even then you are indeed safe, there will be many, many many MANY traffic signs pointing out beforehand that this unicorn like thing is coming your way.

 At least I can't get lost if I find the right road for once!

The sunset on the way back was beautiful.  I have lost most of my voice thanks to Candy, so I slowed down to admire it. Going fast results to shouting to idiots who don't keep out of my lane!

On my way back Karussell texted me the number of an other Atlanta based F8x dudes number. Had to contact him, since I really wanted to take this picture. I went to check in, and met him at the garage, and sure as hell it seems M3 people still go with their own style of parking.

You know you need therapy, when after a long day the best thing ever is to go trough the adaptive headlights and finally get to say that I FUCKING HATE THEM! I hope they work better after the coding, but as of now, they are useless crap, and putting on the adaptive feature is suicidal since you end up driving without high beams in situations you really would need to see your way. I'm so happy I didn't have those in the cars I build,  their present owners can send me coffee as thanks any time.

Soccerdad sure as hell changed my view of Texans enough that I just might head out there now. Actually, as far as I know, I'm to only dick driving one of these. Actually, the further south I've traveled, more real people get. North is starting to feel like the health and safety warning dump zone and I really do not miss that.

... Then last night at 3 am I went to get stuff from the car, and this was going on...


Thanks Georgia, and Tennessee, I truly had the time of my life.

The epic Karussell meet!

Blond perks, as I call them. I get to drive what I want, and meet interesting people where ever I go.


This is the story of the epic Karussell& Lups meet of 2014.

In the morning, Candy and I had a fight, and off we went. She was she, I was I and she was wrong.

Karussell texted me an other street address and off to meet the dragons tail I was. A quick pit stop.

Candy took me to to back roads, most of the curves made me think of life insurances and putting on lipstick, I want to die pretty. Five hours later, there I was. At the dragon, and and something funny happened.

Sun going down gave me a hint, that maybe Candy is playing on me. Got the first address up again, and CANDY THE BITCH told me I was 700 km from where I was supposed to be.

Now, first stop: Call Karussell. " Yeah, someone fucked up. It was not me"

He was nice about it. "ANNA, WHAT THE FUCK DID YOU DO, YOU SHOULD HAVE BEEN HERE HOURS AGO YOU IDIOT!"

K, last was added by me, but he laughed, our serious racer laughed his head off. Well the joke is on him, since I will never tell this story to anyone!

Anyway we came up with a plan with him, I can get there in time of it still being today. After an other hour with the Candy, he decided I'd better stay over in a something that I can't spell and told me that there is a hotel with a bar there.

Gotta give it to the bloke, I have never talked to a person with such nerves.

"yeah, this road, go."

"Alive?"

"well I didn't find the road"

"K. You know, I have beer in the fridge, you are no Finn, since you didn't find your way here'"


So nationality a question mark, sex questioned a  lot, and let's not forget that I am still the mystery of the universe to you guys, so here is my update:

This HC track dude would  have taught me how to drive again, and the CANDY bitch stole it from me.

Other than that the pic feed will be added as soon as I can get to my bloody car to get the cord, Peter is once again surrounded by men and I'm not going to approach it now. Sorry dear readers, but it's late, I'm in a but fuck town where I'm not supposed to be, and I just really fucking missed a change to relearn how to drive.

Pictures will be of Peter and cows, the two things I love. Fast cars and milk.

Karussell, let's have coffee next summer, at this rate that's the earliest I can promise.

And as for the rest of you, I will not meet anyone else than the Morr crew. Not going to try. Today was too fucking much hard work.

And nowthe pictures

Peter went all spiritual when he realized that I can't drive anymore.

Not the shot anyone else would pull over for but come on! My biggest obsessions in the world in the same shot! Perfection. 

Here you can see a lot of cool stuff like this run down garage. Time has stopped here.

I was pulled over three times yesterday, the pic below this was not one of them. He just wanted to know why I had the car near a crack hotel, and I nicely explained to him that Candy might need a hit to sober up. David, you were great, cheers for taking me to the right road. The rest of you idiots, I'm kind of bored with the light thing, get a new hobby and leave me alone!

 I got lost, I fucked up so many corners you can't believe, and most of all my ego was in bits. Some nights are best ended with a huge whiskey.

Some how I think I'd be disappointed with that one. Shower it is then.

Indicators.

Today was brutal, fun, but brutal, I'll write that soon, but to my last post one main thing is to be added.

Use the bloody indicators. I can't understand how the hell this country has 300 million people alive, when the culture of driving is so fucked up.

Indicators are meant to INDICATE what the driver is about to do. They are not needed for the turning, so there is no need to put the thing on if you're already on someone's side.

Just bloody hell learn how to drive even a little, and stay away from the left lane. This is also to you my dear M boys, since what I see, we are the worst idiots out there. Hell let's do an ED of a sort, let's go to Finland and let's see how many of you live after a week of driving with people who don't take hints.

When I rule the universe, these rules will be enforced.

Yesterday was the shittiest driving day of the whole trip. I had plenty of time to come up with a new set of rules that will keep people on the roads as soon as I rule the universe.

Stupid road signs will be banned. A sign saying Falling rock? Come on Americans, get real.If it's a bloody one rock, stop it from falling, otherwise use the plural, and still do something about the situation.

Bump a head: Hell, in Chicago?? really? The whole city is a pothole, and then there is a minor bump on the highway, you put in a sign?! Go fix the pavement!

Then to the main issue. The culture of driving.

I really do not lose my shit in traffic often, but  Indiana, YES IT WAS ME SCREAMING MY WAY TROUGH THE BLOODY STATE OF IDIOTS.

Do not fucking tailgate me, I'm bitch enough to downshift and make you cry. the room in front of me: it's the room I need to keep the guy in front of me safe, not the  bloody place you can move into and fucking take pictures of my car while going 20 under the limits.

I checked last night the rules we have in Finland, and let's just say that I'm happy as long as you guys don't go there. I actually had the numbers down, what's the recommended distance in what, but as usual with this shit, I forgot them already. Still, do not fucking tailgate.

Now, that was not the worst of all the things that happened last night. The worst was the idiot who completely destroyed my will to help humanity. The man who pulled over to my natural habitat, the left lane, and COULD NOT FUCKING MOVE, KEPT TRUCKS BEHIND HIM, AND I swear it took him a half an hour to get past the truck. Why would you need to get past if you are naturally slower than everything else on the planet?

And speed limits. When the road is empty, or a little roomy even, go for it. Why the hell not, Axl sings like the Rose he is when shit hits the fan, so no worries. But for crying out loud, when the nice and not pointless sign is there to show that people are working there to make the road better, to make the road safer for us, don't bloody hell speed trough it. I don't care about the double tickets, it's really disrespectful to the people who have to work there while the cars driving past them have shittier brakes than one wants to think of.


I turned into a complete monster last night, and I'm sorry. almost. Just get the fuck out of the left lane if you can't even keep up with the speed limit! With that, I'll part to go ape on the road again.

Stressdoc, this one is for you! I tried to get the speed limit sign too, so you can indeed see I CAN drive accordingly to them. As shown below, it has happened and I have the picture to proof it!

I will look at this shitty picture from now on, just to remember what it felt like. Boring comes to mind. 

Indiana, turns out it's all corn, corn, a windmill or two, and corn, and corn and porn. Then next to the worst gas station I've visited, was this. Indiana got the credit for this but the tired and not so adult in me couldn't stop laughing. Man, you need to be an M driver to be pathetic enough to go to that shop, theme works, but the surroundings really don't.

Karussell, here I come.

IND

Yes I know, my must see places are not the same as yours.

Anyway 5 am and I found a hotel, got to the room, slept like the dead for four hours, and because most of the time I don't seem to have any reception on my phone, a friend called them ahead.

You know, some people are magic. They make shit happen, and they as sure as hell turn other peoples days around. Trucks, sand on the highway, fucking coffee was weak, Candy was a complete bitch and yet when I finally, and only an hour late found the IND's office, there was a creature of true beauty ready and willing to help me out.

Cat, if you ever start your own fan club, I'm more than ready to join. They only had the reflectors for me to take, but she started to go trough stuff, and grills and stuff was found. She felt so sorry for Peter, that she even washed him with care shown only by true car lovers. The boys were great too, I'm not saying that, but that girl, that girl is a reason alone to visit the shop in person. Style to handle bitches (me) is a rarity, and she as sure as hell had it.

Anyway. I got the tour of the office, I got to see their toys, I got to bother everyone and then they didn't even kick me out (much) but Cat took me to their workshop and apparently my DIY on the badge was enough to convince them all I needed them to put in the parts.

 I'm sure it's green! My neighbors would approve.

 I have never ever bought anything from anyone and gotten the same kind of feeling of being in a customer heaven as I did with these guys. I know, fangirl mode is active.

She even took me to Starbucks. <3

Peter looking pretty and groomed. Now I can look at my car!

I met a forum member for dinner, spent two hours in a good thing, two complete idiots talking about speed, cars, and radar detectors. Slide cheers, and you were right, this shot was worth it!


I'm out of battery for the laptop and the service is done, so I'll update this when I stop the next time. Cheers.


And don't mess with Cat. Ever.

On the road to Chicago

The thing is, when I get something in my head, I'm stuck. The grills, gills and reflectors looked so wrong, no pictures could be taken. I know, pathetic.

In my usual style, I headed off to Chicago without checking even if IND had a real shop there, or only a mailing center. I also didn't bother to google a good route, I just hit the road. Ankle got taped up so tight it almost hurt more than the driving it's self, but Freddie Mercury made me the forget the pains of living while the beautiful sign came out: I was leaving Philly.

To be honest, I didn't bother to see the place at all, as usual I just end up hating everything I have to fly in with luggage. Maybe some day I'm brave enough to review the place again, till then it's the hell hole number two in this country.

The unfortunate tendency to go trough gas a bit fast and the subtle color of Peter made the gas stations hell on earth, it's apparent that this color is the right one for the attention whores. Sadly it get's it on the road too so instead of driving the bloody thing I spend all my time trying to switch lanes to get away from the next bloke who can't keep his in his lane. The roads in Chicago are one huge pothole after an other, then the stares and there is me, hoping that I can beat the traffic hour and get the fuck away from here.

Just do not get the Austin Yellow, my tip of the day.

Well, the only address that I cared enough to get into Candy, and off we went. I we arrived around five am after an interesting meeting with an other car fan. A bit before Ohio was reached (Doc I took your tip seriously, I drove like a grandma, a Finnish one but that was the best I could do!) This pulled next to me.

The bloke driving it had the same idea, so we pulled over and cameras came out.

It was a super moon, we waited till it rose a bit, I asked where he's headed and we found out we have the same route ahead of us. Ohio being near two beepers in the mirrors is always better than one, and who would miss out on the chance to see a C 63 in the rear view mirror for hundreds of miles? 

Off we went, and all the proper procedures for the break in period were followed, I assure you all. Peter was not harmed, no need.

Turns out even in Ohio lights do go from red to green in an occasion. Peter did good. He made mum happy, and I was being kind to it, don't worry!

We parted ways since I was in a hurry to get to Chicago. I had as usual not booked anything and  I was so sure IND has move to Germany. Turns out they had not, but that's the next story.