Help, there'a a big ass bug in my car

It is one of the most horrifying, unnerving experiences you can have while driving, and it happened to me just the other day.
I was cruising down the road, enjoying a sunny Okanagan day like I have done countless times. It was not so hot I had to have the air conditioning on, so I had my window open.

That's when it happened.

I actually heard the insect hit the door jam of my car and I saw a black mass out of the corner of my eye.

I knew the condor of bugs had just entered my vehicle, but what I didn't know was the status of the bug - what kind of bug it was and how pissed off it was over being clobbered by my import.

I glanced to my left and saw a black figure – roughly the size of a full-grown ostrich – on the top of my seatbelt near the window...near my head.

And then it was gone.

I do not want to say panic set it...

It did set in, I just don't want to say it.

When you come right down to it, there really are only two types of bugs on this planet: ones that will hurt you, and ones that won't.

The odds of a bug this large being some sort of engorged lady bug were very slim, so my mind immediately went to the kind of bug that can cause pain.

It was no longer on my the top of the seatbelt near my head, so that means it was in the car somewhere.

My first fear was it had fallen between me and the seat and it was getting ready to deliver the mother of all stings or bites – or both.

Travelling down the highway and 100-ish km/h is not a good time to have an insect attack, well, no time is a good time, but barrelling down the blacktop is an even worse time.

I reached around behind my back trying to locate the beast before it took its revenge upon me for hitting it with my car.

I reached around as far as I could then sort of lifted myself off the seat as best I could to see it maybe the monster was on the seat – not an easy thing to do at highway speeds, but I know we have all done it.

The whole time I am searching, I am also waiting. Waiting for the searing pain that only an angry insect can deliver.

By now I had slowed down considerably and was pulling over to the side of the road, getting ready to evacuate my car like it was on fire.

I stopped, jumped out and danced around the side of the road for a minute with terrifying thoughts running through my mind.

What it went down my shirt and was just knocked out, soon to awaken and bring down its wrath upon me?

Not good.

So I thrashed about for a minute trying to make sure Jurassic bug was not in or on my clothing.

It was not, so that means it was still in the car.

Gulp.

I looked on the driver's seat and found nothing. A gargantuan beast of this size could not easily hide, so it had to be in there somewhere.

I opened the back door and looked on the rear seat and again saw nothing.

Had I imagined it? Was the bug some sort of hallucination brought on by my dislike of insect vermin?
No, I know what I saw and heard, and what I saw and heard was a bug hit my car and and bounce inside.

It was in there alright. Perhaps it was hiding, healing and regaining its strength for an attack.

I then looked on the floor next to the seat and there it was – a wasp.

Not just any wasp, but a monster wasp, at least two pounds worth of wasp.

Well, maybe it wasn't that big, but it was big enough.

I dispatched the beast and went on my way – with the windows rolled up of course.

Copyright 2016, Darren Handschuh

Don't 'bug' me when I'm driving

It is one of the most horrifying, unnerving experiences you can have while driving, and it happened to me just the other day.
I was cruising down the road, enjoying a sunny summer's day like I have done countless times. It was not so hot I had to have the air conditioning on, so I had my window open.

That's when it happened.

I actually heard the insect hit the door jam of my car and I saw a black mass out of the corner of my eye.

I knew the condor of bugs had just entered my vehicle, but what I didn't know was the status of the bug - what kind of bug it was and how pissed off it was over being clobbered by my import.

I glanced to my left and saw a black figure – roughly the size of a full-grown ostrich – on the top of my seatbelt near the window.

And then it was gone.

I do not want to say panic set it...

It did set in, I just don't want to say it.

When you come right down to it, there really are only two types of bugs on this planet: ones that will hurt you, and ones that won't.

The odds of a bug this large being some sort of engorged lady bug were very slim, so my mind immediately went to the kind of bug that can cause pain.

It was no longer on my the top of the seatbelt near my head, so that means it was in the car somewhere.

My first fear was it had fallen between me and the seat and it was getting ready to deliver the mother of all stings or bites – or both.

Travelling down the highway and 100-ish km/h is not a good time to have an insect attack. Well, no time is a good time, but barrelling down the blacktop is an even worse time.

I reached around behind my back trying to locate the beast before it took its revenge upon me for hitting it with my car.

I reached around as far as I could then sort of lifted myself off the seat as best I could to see it maybe the monster was on the seat – not an easy thing to do at highway speeds, but I know we have all done it.

The whole time I am searching, I am also waiting. Waiting for the searing pain that only an angry insect can deliver.

By now I had slowed down considerably and was pulling over to the side of the road, getting ready to evacuate my car like it was on fire.

I stopped, jumped out and danced around the side of the road for a minute with terrifying thoughts running through my mind.

What it went down my shirt and was just knocked out, soon to awaken and bring down its wrath upon me?

Not good.

So I thrashed about for a minute trying to make sure the Jurassic bug was not on my clothing.

It was not, so that means it was still in the car.

Gulp.

I looked at the driver's seat and found nothing. A gargantuan beast of this size could not easily hide, so it had to be in there somewhere.

I opened the back door and looked on the rear seat and again saw nothing.

Had I imagined it? Was the bug some sort of hallucination brought on by my dislike of insect vermin?
No, I know what I saw and heard, and what I saw and heard was a bug hit my car and and bounce inside.

It was in there alright. Perhaps it was hiding, healing and regaining its strength for an attack.

I then looked on the floor next to the seat and there it was – a wasp.

Not just any wasp, but a monster wasp, at least two pounds worth of wasp.

Well, maybe it wasn't that big, but it was big enough.

I have a shiny new car - please don't touch it

So I bought a new vehicle the other day, well it was new to me anyway.

It is the lowest mileage vehicle I have ever owned and so far I am enjoying it quite a bit.

But whenever you buy a new car you go through a period of time where you have all these concerns you did not have with the old clunker you moved up from.

My last car had about a bazillion kilometres on it and it showed. The thing smoked more than a Raggae band and leaked more oil than an Alberta pipeline.

The struts were shot so it was like riding an old chuckwagon and every single bump on the road nearly knocked the fillings out of your teeth.

It rattled, it clunked, it was loud and tired so the time had come to abandon the trusty metal steed for a new mode of transportation.

The old car owed me nothing. I put a lot of kilometres on it and had to do very little in the way of repairs – all right, I should have replaced the struts, but they were expensive and I didn't want to.

The nicest thing about an old, high-mileages car was you didn't really care if it got dirty, or scratched or even a little banged up.

The Missus and I even took it about 20 kilometres up a logging road scouting campsites earlier this year (a fun adventure with marginally functioning suspension.)

It came back covered in grime, dust and a little worse for wear, but by that point it really didn't matter.

The car has seen better days and when a spectacular deal on a much newer car with a fraction of the kilometres came along, I jumped at the opportunity to upgrade in a big way.

I have had the new car for almost two whole weeks so we are still in the honeymoon stage. The first couple days after getting it, I would just sit in it and check out the interior and the all the new-fangled controls I got to play with.

Once in a while I would look out the front window of my house to check out its profile before looking for an excuse – any excuse - to drive it.

While I was willing to go 'boony bashing' in the old car, I was hesitant to even drive this one across an unpaved parking lot lest a rock fly up and chip the pristine paint job.

I don't even like to park the new set of wheels under a tree because there are evil, evil birds out there just waiting to poop on a shiny red car.

“Wait, what's that? Dust! There is a thin layer of dust on my new car! Oh the horror, I must wash it – a lot.”

I know that might be a little over the top, but it is always an event to get a new car and I want to enjoy the feeling of having a new vehicle as much as possible.

And why not, I paid a lot of money to have that feeling and I want to enjoy it for as long as I can and as much as I can.

I had the same feeling with the last car I bought – although this one is much nicer with more options – and I know the feeling fades, but for the next little while I will still get a thrill every time I look out the window and see it sitting there on the street with cars going by...kicking up dust...and those evil birds, just waiting...

Excuse me, I have to go wash my new car. After all, I have not done it for almost two days.

Copyright 2015, Darren Handschuh