Creampuffs Not So Excellent Adventure

[thebes]

 

 

 

In August of last year, I acquired a 2000 Cadillac DTS, called Zippy by its owners.  In its seventeen years of existence it had logged only 56,000 miles, an incredibly low 3000 miles a year on average.  The interior looked factory fresh.  Not a mark, a tear or a stain on the white interior with white leather seats. The owners had never so much as eaten in it, not even a wayward French fry was under a seat slowly decaying into its starchy elements over the years.  The outside was also pristine, with but one small dime-sized dent on the rear right door.

 

More importantly, it was a Florida Car.  Now while I live in the Washington, DC area, I grew up in Syracuse, New York.  Up there, a Florida Car is mythological beast which few have seen.  You see, the winters and the salt have a major impact on the life expectancy of a car. Indeed, 1960’s and 1970’s cars were known to almost completely dissolve after three or four winters.  Good example, my brothers 1967 Mustang convertible went to the junker when the main frame I-beams rusted away cracking the car in two.

 

Not only was it a Florida car, it spent its entire life in a garage, on a gated golf course community. It’s only automotive excitement was occasionally dodging a group of duffers on golf carts.

 

 

I immediately re-christened it “Creampuff”.

 

 

Despite the fact that it was no longer garaged, it seemed to settle right into its new ownership. That is, until it was time for my annual Christmas holiday trek to The Great White North. 

 

For those of you not in the know, Syracuse is in the middle of something called “The Snow Belt”.  It gets more snow in a year than any other city in the country including Fairbanks. It’s subject to “Lake Effect” blizzards that whip and whirl snow into gigantic drifts that sometimes require removal by special machinery. To combat this seasonal onslaught, local governments deploy a massive fleet to trucks, plows and salt spreaders.  Indeed, salt miners labor all summer to re-provision northern municipalities with hundreds of thousands of tons of salt for approaching winter.

 

Creampuff didn’t know it, but when I started it up on the Saturday before Christmas it was headed into a realm it had never experienced. 

 

Its first inkling that something had changed came when we got up into the mountains of central Pennsylvania, where a common early winter heavy fog had taken up residence.  Accustomed to the gentle dew of golf course sprinklers, it became confused by the way the fog lightened and darkened the road, and proceeded to turn its’ automatic lights from the daylight setting to full on, then off, then on in an almost SOS-like distress signal.   On a whim, I turned on the cars fog lights, and the car gave a little judder.  I could only imagine in was Creampuff thinking to itself “What are those things? Never even knew I had them”.

 

Then, in a beautiful valley formed during the last Ice Age, just north of Binghamton, NY, a light rain turned into actual snow.  Shocked, its wipers, set on intermittent, would start their normal swipe then judder to a halt shortly before returning to their resting position. It seemed that it was saying to itself, “OK rain, fine, but hey what’s that!” and judder to a halt. After a bit the flurries abated and Creampuff settled down for the rest of our journey.

 

That is until the next morning.  Creampuff awoke to a couple of inches of snow resting on it, having spent its first night out in real winter weather.  I brushed it off, and slipped into the seat. Upon starting, the first thing it did was flash a warning about the door lock system: SECURITY! THERE IS A PROBLEM WITH THE SECURITY SYSTEM. HAVE SECURITY SYSTEM SERVICED! After the car warmed up the warning went away, but every day of its visit, or when the engine was cold the same alert would flash. Its clear to me that Creampuff spent its night shivering in the cold and dreaming of the warm rays of Margaritaville.

Creampuff was also a scaredy-cat when it came to driving on light snow.  Its equipped with traction control which it turned on at any excuse, seemingly saying to itself “whoa their Nelly”.

 

Then there was the morning of our departure.  It was seven below zero, but the cars outside temperature gauge, the most accurate I’ve ever experienced, would only register zero.  Finally, like a kid testing the waters of a cold pond, the temperature gauge started creeping lower and after about half-an-hour, Creampuff finally owned up to being in an environment far beyond its Ken.

 

Creampuff faced one more hurdle on its adventure up north.  There were four inches of unplowed snow on the ground which made for a bit of sliding which triggered another error code warning:  HAVE SUSPENSION SYSTEM SERVICED!

It’s final indignity in its fall grace as a Florida Car was being stuck directly behind a monster highway snow which sprayed it heavily with rock salt while awaiting our turn to pass the behemoth.

 

Now if this story was to have a happy ending, it would be that I took Creampuffs distress to heart, and just kept driving, piling on mile after mile until we came to rest by a pond, on a golf course in far off Florida. Sadly, DC is having a cold snap, it’s 10 degrees above zero, and Creampuff is yelling its head off for SECURITY!

 

 

 

 

 

 

[dirtmudd]

43 minutes ago, thebes said:

 

 

 

In August of last year, I acquired a 2000 Cadillac DTS, called Zippy by its owners.  In its seventeen years of existence it had logged only 56,000 miles, an incredibly low 3000 miles a year on average.  The interior looked factory fresh.  Not a mark, a tear or a stain on the white interior with white leather seats. The owners had never so much as eaten in it, not even a wayward French fry was under a seat slowly decaying into its starchy elements over the years.  The outside was also pristine, with but one small dime-sized dent on the rear right door.

 

More importantly, it was a Florida Car.  Now while I live in the Washington, DC area, I grew up in Syracuse, New York.  Up there, a Florida Car is mythological beast which few have seen.  You see, the winters and the salt have a major impact on the life expectancy of a car. Indeed, 1960’s and 1970’s cars were known to almost completely dissolve after three or four winters.  Good example, my brothers 1967 Mustang convertible went to the junker when the main frame I-beams rusted away cracking the car in two.

 

Not only was it a Florida car, it spent its entire life in a garage, on a gated golf course community. It’s only automotive excitement was occasionally dodging a group of duffers on golf carts.

 

 

 

I immediately re-christened it “Creampuff”.

 

 

 

Despite the fact that it was no longer garaged, it seemed to settle right into its new ownership. That is, until it was time for my annual Christmas holiday trek to The Great White North. 

 

For those of you not in the know, Syracuse is in the middle of something called “The Snow Belt”.  It gets more snow in a year than any other city in the country including Fairbanks. It’s subject to “Lake Effect” blizzards that whip and whirl snow into gigantic drifts that sometimes require removal by special machinery. To combat this seasonal onslaught, local governments deploy a massive fleet to trucks, plows and salt spreaders.  Indeed, salt miners labor all summer to re-provision northern municipalities with hundreds of thousands of tons of salt for approaching winter.

 

Creampuff didn’t know it, but when I started it up on the Saturday before Christmas it was headed into a realm it had never experienced. 

 

Its first inkling that something had changed came when we got up into the mountains of central Pennsylvania, where a common early winter heavy fog had taken up residence.  Accustomed to the gentle dew of golf course sprinklers, it became confused by the way the fog lightened and darkened the road, and proceeded to turn its’ automatic lights from the daylight setting to full on, then off, then on in an almost SOS-like distress signal.   On a whim, I turned on the cars fog lights, and the car gave a little judder.  I could only imagine in was Creampuff thinking to itself “What are those things? Never even knew I had them”.

 

Then, in a beautiful valley formed during the last Ice Age, just north of Binghamton, NY, a light rain turned into actual snow.  Shocked, its wipers, set on intermittent, would start their normal swipe then judder to a halt shortly before returning to their resting position. It seemed that it was saying to itself, “OK rain, fine, but hey what’s that!” and judder to a halt. After a bit the flurries abated and Creampuff settled down for the rest of our journey.

 

That is until the next morning.  Creampuff awoke to a couple of inches of snow resting on it, having spent its first night out in real winter weather.  I brushed it off, and slipped into the seat. Upon starting, the first thing it did was flash a warning about the door lock system: SECURITY! THERE IS A PROBLEM WITH THE SECURITY SYSTEM. HAVE SECURITY SYSTEM SERVICED! After the car warmed up the warning went away, but every day of its visit, or when the engine was cold the same alert would flash. Its clear to me that Creampuff spent its night shivering in the cold and dreaming of the warm rays of Margaritaville.

 

Creampuff was also a scaredy-cat when it came to driving on light snow.  Its equipped with traction control which it turned on at any excuse, seemingly saying to itself “whoa their Nelly”.

 

Then there was the morning of our departure.  It was seven below zero, but the cars outside temperature gauge, the most accurate I’ve ever experienced, would only register zero.  Finally, like a kid testing the waters of a cold pond, the temperature gauge started creeping lower and after about half-an-hour, Creampuff finally owned up to being in an environment far beyond its Ken.

 

Creampuff faced one more hurdle on its adventure up north.  There were four inches of unplowed snow on the ground which made for a bit of sliding which triggered another error code warning:  HAVE SUSPENSION SYSTEM SERVICED!

 

It’s final indignity in its fall grace as a Florida Car was being stuck directly behind a monster highway snow which sprayed it heavily with rock salt while awaiting our turn to pass the behemoth.

 

Now if this story was to have a happy ending, it would be that I took Creampuffs distress to heart, and just kept driving, piling on mile after mile until we came to rest by a pond, on a golf course in far off Florida. Sadly, DC is having a cold snap, it’s 10 degrees above zero, and Creampuff is yelling its head off for SECURITY!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

love the central ny weather....

[RT FAN]

Not to worry, Thebes. I too purchased a Southern car from the land of Savannah where the car had whiled away the sleepy days drinking sweet tea while overlooking golf courses and the Intracoastal Waterway. It's nights spent safely indoors in a plush garage. Then, it was rudely kicked to the proverbial curb by it's little old lady owner and shipped with great dispatch to the gritty Big Apple. Where for the first time it encountered freezing temperatures,  rock salt, snow, potholes and the dreaded FDR. Which as those who have driven it,  "The Drive" as it is known here in NYC, is literally a long paved pothole driven by maniacal foks hell bent on their own destruction and that of their cars and well as those belonging to others.

 

 I will have to give credit to the German Engineers who designed my car, it has proven much tougher than I would have thought given it's magnolia scented youth. She is now a grizzled veteran warrior of the wastelands, worthy of casting in the next Mad Max installment. At 17 years of age, She is now a tough old broad. Her body dented and dinged but still attractive. Hopefully your Southern Flower rises to the occasion instead of whining and pining for the days of sauntering over to the 5 pm early bird special at 35 mph.

[thebes]

Great story RT and well told. Dang I've got competition for a way with the word.

 

No fairsey, though, you're using better alliterations and adjectives. I'd also throw in pronouns and adverbs,  but despite being taught English by old-school nuns, I still have no idea what they are.

[YK Thom]

You have to love Florida cars. They are highly sought in Ontario Canada. My father had a nice older Cadillac Deville he kept at his Florida Winter residence. He had one of the newer sportier Caddilacs for a short time and hated it. He is as old school as they come and as far as he is concerned a Caddy isn’t a Caddy unless it a big *** land yacht. I drove it several times over a few years during visits. Florida has great smooth highways and this thing was like driving a smooth couch through the state. When his health gave out he had to sell the place but drove the Florida Caddy back to his home in Ontario and enjoyed for several more years. His crew of buddies at Tim Hortons loved the thing and one of them bought it. Low mileage, not a mark on it.

[RT FAN]

On ‎1‎/‎5‎/‎2018 at 8:15 PM, thebes said:

Great story RT and well told. Dang I've got competition for a way with the word.

 

No fairsey, though, you're using better alliterations and adjectives. I'd also throw in pronouns and adverbs,  but despite being taught English by old-school nuns, I still have no idea what they are.

 Thank you Thebes. Yes, mom was a teacher and the nuns had the ruler across the knuckles. At least in High School the Brothers would just punch you.