Friday, June 19, 2015

Corvette Z06 Eats up the Miles


Thursday June 4, 2015. A man and his Fiance prepare for a trip from Gibsonville, NC down into Florida. The man throws 5 pairs of socks, 5 pairs of underwear, 3 pairs of pants, several shirts, and a bathing suit into a bag along with his toothbrush and several other small items. He figures its a 7 day trip, he can do laundry once and be perfectly fine. He kisses his future wife goodbye, then leaves for one final day at work before his first vacation since 2010. Upon returning home from work he finds that his fiance has packed 4,320 outfits, 68 pairs of shoes, and several bags full of things in which he has absolutely no understanding of what they are used for. He stands at the doorway, blinking slowly, looking at the massive pile to be packed into the trunk of his 2001 Corvette Z06. He ponders to himself why one might need 6 different jackets for a trip down to Florida in the middle of summer.
Overpacked Bags


What are these sadistic looking devices? Are they used for torture? Sexual pleasure? Both?


Upon inquiring he is informed that one is used for making hair straight, the other used for making hair not straight. The gears continue turning in his head, but he just can't grasp the concept of why someone would need both straight, and not straight hair. He asks if she also has two irons, one to remove wrinkles, and one to create wrinkles. His sarcasm is not appreciated.

He steps over the mountain of bags, into his bedroom where he finds more items to be packed for the trip. Confused, he gazes at his bride with his mouth slightly open, and one eyebrow perched precariously high on his forehead.
"I know I overpacked, but we might need some of this stuff!" The bride-to-be states, giddy with excitement for the upcoming trip.
The man chooses not to confront her, but instead begins packing 6 weeks worth of luggage into the back of his car. 

At 5:30 AM the next morning, the car is packed, breakfast has been eaten, and its about time to head off. A bottle of Techron goes into the tank, along with 15 gallons of 93 octane. The gas gauge hasn't been quite right for a few years, even after topping off the car it only goes up to 7/8ths of a tank, and after an hour and a half of driving the gauge goes to 0. Quickly resetting the computer always fixes it, but it is annoying nonetheless.

The man sits, sipping his coffee and gazing into the distance, thinking to himself "This will be the true test of the vehicle. Will it be to loud to tolerate on such a long journey? Will the Corvette suck down fuel and leave his bank account crying?"

"Get me a coffee, I'll stay up with you and keep you company during the drive" says his young fiance.
He nods, and hands her the warm beverage. She half drinks half inhales the coffee. The man sighs, and prepares for a long trip with many potty breaks. 8 miles into the trip he glances over to find his co-pilot grinning from ear to ear, thrilled to finally be on vacation. 8.2 miles into the trip he glances back over to find this:

Emily asleep in the C5 Corvette


His fiance had passed out asleep less than 10 minutes into the trip, lulled to sleep by the sweet burble of the LS6, comforted by one of the multiple blankets she had packed at the last minute. He sighs, and a low, deep laugh bubbles up from his abdomen, and he continues driving in silence.

Mile 210: the car being driven by his other family members (a Mazda sedan sporting a massive 150 horsepower 2.3 liter 4 cylinder) signals, and gets off the interstate, low on fuel. Though the man had already reset his computer once during the drive because his gas gauge had fallen to zero, he still had over half a tank. The passengers of the Mazda get out, uncomfortable from the bleacher-like seats in the Mazda, while the man and his wife sit in absolute comfort.

Mile 400: the Corvette is just under 1/4 tank, as the Mazda pulls off once again for gas. The man shrugs, empties his second bottle of Techron into the tank, then proceeds to fill up. The pump clacks off, snapping the man out of his dazed trance, indicating that the tank was full after pumping as near as makes no difference 13 gallons. The computer claims that he is achieving 30.5 miles per gallon, but calculating by hand shows 31.3. The gas needle sits dauntingly at 7/8ths of a tank, Making him wonder if he wasted $12 on the two bottles of Techron. 

The rest of the trip down seems uneventful, quiet even, despite hitting traffic through Atlanta. As the pair of cars pulls into the cozy neighborhood they would be sleeping at the man realizes that he hasn't had to reset his computer since mile 400, could the Techron be working?

Greeting their hosts with the mildly awkward "family we haven't seen or talked to in years" hug that everyone has experienced, they begin the painstaking labor of hauling in their bags. Although the man had contemplated tossing some of the excess out the window while his fiance was asleep, it had all made it in one piece to their destination. They had been warned that their hosts were relatively conservative, a point that was proven as they opened the door to the room they would be staying in. Two miniscule twin sized beds sat awkwardly on opposite ends of the room. It seemed as if these beds had recently been moved to ensure that they were as far apart as possible. That glassy daze washed across the mans face once again, but he placed his bags on the floor regardless, and proceeded to make another trip back to his Corvette, finally emptying the trunk of its luggage. 

Florida has always been known for its beauty, and throughout the trip many opportunities arose to capture this beauty. 

Corvette at Sunset



Corvette at Sunset
Corvette at Sundown
Corvette at Sunset
Corvette at Sunset
Corvette at Sunset

The day had finally come when it was nearing time to return home. As is typical, there was somehow more baggage returning with them than they had originally left with. A beautiful morning greeted them as they got ready for their return trip. Silently the man prepared the car for the journey. Oil: check. Gas: check. Windshield cleaned: check. Time to set off! It wasn't for about half an hour into the return trip until the man realized that there was something distinctly different about his fuel gauge: it was entirely up to the "F" on the gauge! He laughed to himself, thrilled with everything about his vehicle, and cracked the throttle wide open, ready for anything this voyage had to throw at him.





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