Howdy, y'all. So my Ill-Advised Road Trip 2017-18 has come to its stirring conclusion with a real bang...that is, my Chevy Tracker hitting the I-40 Guardrail at 60 mph. Yeah yeah, I'm okay, not even a bruise from it. The Schlaacker is pretty much totaled. Too much structural damage along the passenger side. I knew it was leaking fluid and had a popped tire immediately after the crash, but I guess there was a lot of "internal bleeding", as it were - the stuff you don't see. The stuff that kills ya. The automobile version of a concussion. Thanks to Progressive Insurance for just saying, "Naw, don't fuck with it" and paying out instead of dicking around; they've been very helpful. I'm also in debt to my friends Emma and Jason for picking me up from Paw Paw, MI, which is just west of where my beloved little SUV met its untimely demise - they drove for an hour and a half to pick up my sorry ass. I did honestly try to find some way off that plane...
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