Bluejake

Thirty minutes into my roadtrip and I'm cruising up the Pacific Coast Highway, ten miles into Malibu. The car is humming and I'm feeling good, so I decide to stop at the beach and take some pictures. Unfortunately, pulling a U-turn to park on the west side of the road, I overshot the pavement by ten feet and ended up deep in the sand. The little Chevy I was driving turned out to be front-wheel drive only, an arrangement that is less than successful for beach driving. Flooring the gas pedal was emotionally satisfying, but only succeeded in bottoming the car out in a pit four feet deep, and throwing sand back into my face through the air conditioning system.

After a few minutes of that, a nice old guy walked over and started delivering some helpful advice: "I tell you what boy, I've lived on this beach thirty years and you are in that sand pretty deep. You got a shovel with you?" I did not, but the lifeguard on duty lent me her's, and after twenty minutes of Cool Hand Luke action, I had successfully lowered the car another two feet into the ground. Suspecting quicksand, I decided to abandon the car and make use of the full insurance I had purchased at Avis, but as I was getting ready for the long walk back to Santa Monica, a guy pulled up behind me in a monster truck. He got out, walked over to me, and said "I tell you what boy, you are in there pretty deep- you want me to tow you out?" I considered his proposition, having already worked out my insurance claim, but he seemed really eager, so I got back in the car and let him drag my ass back on to the road. The road trip was off to a perfect start!

california