Moving: Why burning all your stuff is a better alternative

Ok, I hate moving. I mean I hate moving the way the Arabs hate Israel. Not kidding in the least, I hate moving. I went to my dad's place on Friday morning and we got to loading up a pickup, a trailer, and a great big u-haul (which by the way, I hate u-haul almost as much as moving, but we'll get to that in a minute). We pack, and we load, and we toss a bunch of stuff in the junk pile. This goes on for several hours. I had arrived at 8:30am, my wife arrived at 2:30pm just as we finished loading the trucks.

I volunteered to drive the u-haul, I think it was this model. Anyway, Mary shows up and we pile in the truck. It does have cloth seats, it does have an automatic transmission, and is has a gasoline engine. I'm not a fan of putting a gas engine in a truck of this size, they are always undersized and don't perform very well. The u-haul confirmed this beyond the shadow of a doubt. Please recall that when moving, you generally have more bulk to move than weight. So we were hauling at the most 2 tons of junk in the truck and I'm being generous, it was probably only 3,000lbs. This means that we aren't loading the truck over capacity or anything. So off we go, air conditioner blowing, we're some what comfortable, but that is about to change.

The key to smooth acceleration, which results in your junk not getting tossed around in the back of the truck, is to gently and smoothly roll your foot onto the gas pedal. This was not to be. Our truck had a gas pedal that would bind up, so you'd either be stuck idling along, or kick your foot to the floor board and lurch forward. Mary was not a fan of this feature, nor the fact that the transmission shifted so hard it felt like we were being rear ended everytime it shifted up or down. She wanted to call my dad who was following us, and tell him to back off incase the tranny fell out. We finally make our way to the highway and I am literally standing on the gas pedal, and doing 45mph in a 65mph zone. This is called suicide, because you will be run over. I finally get the gimp truck all the way to 60mph. We are trucking now. A slight uphill grade looms before us and I floor the truck, so that at the crest of the hill we are only down to 50mph. I am not real happy about this thing and it gets better. Swear to God we must have had an anchor dragging behind us. This POS gets like 6 mpg. Had we been in a diesel I think we could have gotten a comfortable 10 mpg, and been able to maintain our speed. Instead we are stuck trying like hell to maintain 60mph. This means that on US 281 traffic backs up so bad behind our slow asses that it looks like we're leading a freaking parade!

Speaking of parade, ha ha. When you drive a truck that gets single digit fuel economy you need to plan your stops for gas. I think I can make town A, but the gas gauge tells me I can't. Well that's alright, towns B and C are between me and A. I'm close to empty and decide town B is next up, I'll stop there. I slow down on my way to town, ease on to the shoulder to turn into the gas station, and realize the station closed sometime back when fuel was only $1.49 a gallon. Well crap, on to town C. I think the gas station at town C must rely on stupid people driving u-hauls who delude themselves into thinking they can make the next town. On the way home, again I'm planning on stopping in town A, except they are having some sort of pioneer days parade that is about to start. Every gas station on the correct side of the street is full of people waiting for the parade, so I have to by pass town A for gas and go back to town C. My dad asks if I have a preference for this little 1 pump station in the middle of nowhere. Somedays you just can't win, and others your manage not to run out of gas, and that is close to winning when you are driving a uhaul.

Our truck was equiped with an am/fm stereo, at least it was stereo before the drivers side speaker blew out. So I'm wanting some tunes, but when I turn it up to a point where I can enjoy it, Mary's got bloor running out her ears. Great, now I can't even listen to the radio in the POS truck. After almost stalling this beast going up Chalk Mountain (and its a freaking automatic!) I look at Mary and exclaim,"Well it may be loud and crappy, but it sure is slow". At this point we kind of lost it and started making all kinds of jokes at our u-haul's expense. After 4 hours of loud, slow, kidney smashing, whiplash giving, driving, we arrive at our destination. I think I pee'd blood from that rough riding truck. Good lord I drive a KIA, which is a cheap Korean vehicle and it rides like a lexus on a sheet of glass compared to that truck.

Anyway, I managed to cripple myself while loading, driving, unloading, and spent most of the weekend shuffling around like an old man. We got my dad moved (for the most part, I mean we could have loaded the truck again with what was left) and I spent Sunday mowing my yard, again. Sorta disappointing, Mary and I had planned to go see a buddy's band this weekend but felt like crud on Saturday night. We'll have to catch him some other time.

Anyway, that was my weekend, hope yours was less eventfull, and u-haul free.