By in Random

Traveling Through Saturn Chronicles #1

The moment I signed up, I knew I was ready. The freedom; the ability to go forth on this campaign had been itching at my nerves for half a decade. I sat at the controls and took off into the distance. I had no map to study, no routes to follow. Just me and my craft. However I did not realize how long the journey was going to be. It would end up being 5 years and 80,000 miles...

One milestone in the sage was during Hurricane Irene. That was a bad storm. Yet my buddy, who was staying over with me, decided that we should go for a drive to get food. I thought he was crazy, but I was enthralled on battling against nature. I revived my trusty Saturn. The engine revs were no match to the roar of the battering winds and pelleting rain. The tires hydroplaned constantly, ripping through puddles deeper than one may think. We began descending the hill. The once humble golf course was littered with tree branches and trash. A once familiar road, became a maze of hazards. My arms stayed rigid on the wheel. One false move would surely be my last.

Suddenly, a huge gust sent my car off course. I slid to the right; my meager brakes could not withstand the kinetic energy. We shrieked as I collided with a plastic mailbox, pulling it violently from it's foundation. I finally was able to come to a halt and we exited. The doors almost blew off the hinges. We didn't know where the mailbox was. We assumed it was careening down the hill or in the brush. We inspected the car, despite battling horrific gales. I shouted at him, "It's under the car!" I got back in and threw it in reverse while he pushed from the front. I was able to ride over the dented mailbox and he cast it aside into the grass. We chuckled at my folly, and assumed the owner would not realize it was my car who damaged his cheap property.

So back down the hill we went. Around the bend, was the reservoir. This time though, it was an ocean. The banks overflowed and the road was being swallowed up. I dropped down to a crawl and slowly nudged around, making sure to gas it through so my car would not be sucked in. We reached the main road and drove toward the pizza shop. It was a grim an desolate scene: power lines broken, bushes askew, darkened homes with the curtains drawn. I had to weave around fallen limbs. There was no oncoming traffic so I drove on both sides. You could see small rapids on the shoulders with leaves and rocks flowing downstream. A beautiful chaos.

We finally made it to the restaurant downtown, after a grueling 20 minutes. The eerily bright lights contrasted with the darkening cataclysm. We walked in and shook off our drenched coats in the lobby. My friend greeted the owner who quickly retrieved the food for us. "You guys are crazy." He said sarcastically and rung us out. My headlights were my guide. My Saturn howled with every stomp of my pedal. It needed rest. We took the safer scenic route home this time. We pulled into the vinyl clad safeguard, where I would let my Saturn recover overnight. My dad opened the door, shaking his head. "You guys are crazy." We all laughed, sharing our bravado like war heroes straight off the plane, kissing the very ground they stood on. And all the while, our food was still warm.

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