The weekend before Christmas, Katie and I endeavored a road trip to Rhode Island. From Brooklyn, that trip should be about four, or four and a half hours. Just as we were leaving, a snowstorm was moving into the state. I drive an 1982 Mercedes Benz that runs on Diesel. If you didnt know, now you know that Diesel freezes in the tank when the temperature drops anywhere below 25 degrees Fahrenheit, especially if you dont have anti-freeze in it. We didnt.
After 6 hours doing 12mph on the freeway, spinning out on an exit, a massive nose bleed, watching the snow pile up underneath us, the sun disappeared and the heater broke, taking our defroster with it. Finding ourselves stuck, wheels spinning hopelessly in front of a semi truck at an intersection just off the highway, we made an emergency bail to the first hotel in sight. In the snowy darkness, we spotted an institutional looking freeway-side Best Western, and went for it. They didn't have any covered parking, so the Benzo sat in the falling snow all night long. In the morning, eager to get to egg nog and cozy Christmas time slippers and things, we came downstairs to find the car encased in a blanket of ice and snow. We spent 2 hours in the biting freeze, cracking ice off the hood and door jams, hoping to at least get the driver door open. With the help of two truckers, we got in, only to find that the engine refused, at all coaxing, to give us anything more than a hypothermic cough.
This is a photographic story of the time that Katie and I took a three day forced vacation at Best Western Suites in West Haven, Connecticut.
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