Karen and I were driving to Madison to meet Stephanie for a girls weekend hidden away in a bed&breakfast. We’d left late morning after packing the car in the pouring rain. I had gotten up early to get my long-run out of the way before the weekend and, as a result, asked Karen to drive so that I might catch up on sleep. We’d driven all of a mile on the highway when the wiper in front of Karen started malfunctioning. Rather than making a swipe straight across the windshield, the blade itself turned 90 degrees and reluctantly scooted against the surface. This was bad, considering all the rain, but acceptable. We made grand plans of exiting at the next ramp to try to fix it.
Pulling off the highway, we coasting to keep everything intact–and what are the chances?–were followed by a semi. It was then that the wiper went from broken to gone. It flew off suddenly causing both of us to shriek for a moment. Being rational, I knew it couldn’t be too far away and jumped out of the car once it came to a stop on the shoulder. I spotted something a good 50 yards behind and began running toward it. It must have appeared I was also running straight at the now-parked semi. I’m sure the driver was wondering what the deal was with the crazy girls running at him in the pouring rain….
What I had thought was my wiper blade actually wasn’t. So we continued to run around like headless chickens and eventually found it–completely fine except for the fact that it wasn’t connected to my car. The wiper didn’t seem to have any intention of snapping back on. Bad news. I then remembered the red electrical tape in my glove box. Trying to keep the area dry with paper towels I’d stolen from the dorm, we jimmy-rigged the wiper back on and said a prayer hoping it would stay through the abuse of the rain. We have a lot of good ideas.
The red tape held and we laughed about it as soon as we returned to the car. The rain stopped within an hour or so, giving the wet electrical tape the opportunity to stay intact. I drove. The rest of the way.