Winnebagos suck. Let's get that straight right at the beginning.
[Editor's note: Opinions expressed in this Musing are to be construed solely as those of the author, and not the Hullabahoos as an organization. Why, many of us B'hoos are great fans of the lumbering highway behemoths. Yay, Winnebagos! Please don't sue us. -Ed.]
At the same time, they are the only way to travel if you are a group of college kids who want to have fun and don't mind sharing small spaces. Road Rules absolutely does not count, being as far from real road travel as you can get. They probably all have personal limos to haul them around between takes. Winnebagos are the epitome of irony (at least as defined by Alanis Morissette): you must have them, you hate them. I am sure others can add to the list, but Winnebagos carrying B'hoos have:
Now, Subaru Wagons are funny things. You wouldn't know it to look at them, but they glide. What's more, the rear window is designed to shatter in a very artistic pattern. It's like those 3-D images, you would only notice it if you stared long enough -- or if you smashed it with a very heavy object. Come to think of it, I'm not sure that would work with the 3-D stuff, so nevermind.
Anyway, the lead designer of the Subaru Wagon must've been an ice skating fan, or a billiard player. As the B'hoos rumbled off the interstate somewhere in Connecticut in the Hullababago to find eats and gas, the exit ramp merged with a local highway. The exit ramp was downhill, and the merge was easy, so Capt. James T.B. Walker coasted right onto the local thoroughfare. It was pouring rain, but traffic was light, and TB pressed the gas as the 'Babago topped a hill. At the bottom of the hill, some stormwater had collected across the road. The 'Bago plowed through with a tremendous splash, but no otherwise apparent ill effects -- until the red light.
Now, TB was a heavy drinker when the mood struck him (sorry TB, we all were I suppose), but he was clean this day, at least at this time of this day. So, riding shotgun, when I saw a red light about a quarter mile ahead, I did not immediately panic when TB didn't begin to slow down. As we got closer and closer, I could identify a tan Subaru station wagon waiting, alone, in front of us, at the red light. Our speed remained constant. I looked at TB. He was looking at the floor.
At first, I began to get worried that the driver was looking at the floor instead of at the fast approaching red light. I thought to say something, but curiosity got the better of me, so I looked at the floor, too. TB's foot was furiously pumping the brake pedal. The Winnebago was humming along its merry way. The Subaru suspected nothing.
TB vociferously expressed some dismay that the on-board deceleration mechanism was not, at the moment, functioning properly. I issued a mild oath, intended to warn the other passengers that impact was imminent, and that precautionary measures were appropriate. TB continued pumping. The Subaru had no chance.
For those who have studied (in)elastic collisions of a two-body system, the next scene should be obvious. Like a cue ball from hell, the Hullababago slammed into the undefended bumper of the Subaru. The 'Bago basically stopped on the mark. The Subaru, however, was propelled completely through the intersection, across the opposing lane of traffic, and into a ditch. On-scene conservation of momentum analyses predicted that but for the ditch, that sucker would have carried on to Rhode Island.
That was neat (in retrospect). But what was really cool was the rear window. The large rear station wagon window (the bubble kind), exploded into a million shards and flew upward in a spray, a veritable geyser of glass. It looked like a fountain.
Fortunately, all the passengers (in both vehicles) were okay, and no plaintiffs' lawyers were in earshot. No oncoming traffic was affected. We soberly explained the failed brakes to the nice highway patrolman, who collected information from TB and sent us on our way. Although TB may have had some trouble on the back end, we were relieved, if only momentarily, to learn that Connecticut is a no-fault state.
If you rent a 'Bago out of Richmond today, you can probably still get one with the silhouette of a Subaru stenciled subtly on the fender.
(Disclaimer: As I write this, I begin to wonder if this was actually the trip that we rented the extended van, and not a 'Bago. If so, just forget the whole thing. I'll tell you about Spence Vining's magical bending car hood instead...)
fondly,
Grady Moore
22 Jun 1998