There Are Some Great Cracks & Some Not So Great Cracks. This is My Story...

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Besides flat tires, there are other parts of your car, truck, or SUV that can get damaged when you’re doing a lot of driving. One of the most common parts that often gets damaged is a windshield…

When I was driving into Boston daily on the VFW Parkway in late fall, I was getting pelted by huge acorns falling from the red oaks that line the road, trees whose limbs extend over it and provide a beautiful natural cover. 

I’d get hit the entire way in, usually on the roof, hood, or worse, the windshield. At times, the acorns rained down hard, like a meteor shower. They'd bang off my car, making bone-chilling sounds, and I totally expected dents or a cracked windshield or moon roof, but surprisingly, other than making a loud bang, not so much as a scratch. 

Months passed, and with no damage, I was confident the glass on my wife's SUV was bulletproof and the paint and body as durable as a Sherman tank. Then something very strange happened…

We got an inch of snow overnight, and barely anything stuck to my driveway, and other than the windshield, very little stuck to her car. 

I got in and felt there wasn't enough snow to warrant getting out to scrape the windshield. So I put on the front and rear wipers, and for the most part, other than some snow on the edges where the wiper stroke ended, the front windshield was clear. I figured whatever was left would fly off once I hit the highway, especially with the defroster on.

I was cruising along at about 80 on Route 495 heading north, and then at the same speed on 95 north, defroster on, but the snowy edges were still clinging to the windshield. After a few more miles, the piles were still there, and that's when it became an all-out war! The only thing I wanted to do was rid my windshield of these pesky little snow collections.

I had just filled the windshield washer reservoir with blue-colored, -25-degree de-icer fluid, and I decided that would be my first line of attack.

I pulled the appropriate lever towards me, and the fluid spritzed the windshield and the wipers moved the fluid to the edges. I thought to myself, “Those fuckin’ snow piles are toast!” But all that happened was the snow turned blue, making my windshield look like it had been struck by a flying Slush Puppie!

I spritzed it again, thinking the snow was no match for a second dowsing of windshield washer fluid, a defroster, and some high-speed travel. But the piles of snow continued hanging on…

All I could think about were those matching blue piles of snow on either side of my windshield, and I was losing it. They were staring me right in the face, taunting me to stop and get out, and use my scraper, but I was not about to give in. No fucking way! I knew I could beat these two piles without having to pull over and stop…

I turned my defroster up to 83, and looking at both sides of the windshield, I was confident the two piles would succumb to the extreme heat. 

I turned the wipers to high and kept my foot on the gas, smiling evilly as I sped down Route 95 with nothing else on my mind but those two piles of blue snow, but they still wouldn’t let go…

I increased my speed, obsessed with destroying these little fuckers, dumping them on 95 where they’d turn to mere water, a fate they so deserved, and going 90 and getting a speeding ticket never even crossed my mind.

I passed other drivers like they were standing still; they knew nothing about the battle I was in, but these little bastards were still there, staring back at me, laughing in my face, trying to force me to stop or, worse, give up my fight. I continued for another mile, but those stubborn little piles still wouldn't budge…

Eventually, I grew tired of their wicked game, it had become exhausting. I conceded. These were two tough mother fuckers, and at that moment, I felt no shame in accepting defeat.

I shut the wipers, eased up on the gas, and switched the defrosters back to heat. I was done fucking with the piles…

And then I heard that all too familiar sound, like fucking acorns pelting my car on the VFW Parkway…

I was on the highway, there were no red oaks! "What the fuck was that?" I wondered. That’s when I saw the long crack on the bottom of my windshield. I immediately looked up, wanting to blame a truck with a missing mud flap for spitting a rock at me, but there wasn’t any in sight. But I'm pretty sure something came off the Volkswagen Beetle just ahead, and you can see where the crack began at the bottom right of the picture…

With the defrosters turned up to 83, the windshield got pretty fucking hot, and when something hit it, the entire windshield cracked horizontally just above the bottom of the dashboard, and continued three and a half feet across, the same length as the defroster vent inside.

I knew at that moment not only had I been defeated, my windshield had been destroyed by those snow piles, those little fucking bastards. I should’ve just got out and used my scraper and never fucked with 'em…

Later that day, I was forced to call Safelite

 

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