2015 Hyundai Santa Fe Sport Turbo 200,000 Mile Review

 

Bicentennial Blowout🎂

2015 Hyundai Santa Fe Sport Turbo 200,000 Mile Review

 

Pirate Press               February 2026

More Popular than the Epstein Files.

 

Admittedly, I've had a lot of special cars over the years, but our Hyundai marks the first one that we've actually managed to pile all the miles on ourselves. Both my 1985 Honda Accord and 1992 Saturn SL1 each had over 200,000 respectively but they were family hand-me-downs whereby my parents accumulated roughly half the mileage themselves. But with our Hyundai, Amanda has logged 90% herself with Victoria and I rounding out the rest. Funny enough, the Santa Fe was actually the vehicle Victoria learned to drive on since she couldn't handle the manual five-speed in the Red Line and the Corvette was way too powerful for her. The running joke is that a manual transmission is now seen as a "Gen-Z Anti-Theft Device" but Victoria actually did one better than that during her first test drive of a standard car: Accustomed solely to the push-button start in the Hyundai, she didn't even know what to do when handed the the ignition key. 

Of course, she hated driving the Santa Fe as it was too big, heavy and cumbersome for her. Likewise, she treated her twelve months in it like she was serving a prison sentence. However, even after ten years and 200,000 miles the Hyundai is still remarkably trouble free; the turbocharged 2.0-liter continues to pull with authority, the fuel economy routinely hits 30 mpg and it's completely free of any worrisome creaks or groans. 

 

  

However, I've always been amused by the global incongruity of our Santa Fe— a vehicle sold by a Korean automaker, designed in Europe, built in Alabama and named after the capital of New Mexico. It's a mind-boggling genealogy to be sure but I suppose not so unusual in our interconnected world where everything is now sourced abroad, like blueberries from Chile and crab meat from Vietnam. Logistically, it would seem cheaper (and easier) to procure the blueberries from Georgia and crab from the Gulf but what do I know about economics? I spent my junior college days in Econ II cheating off a girl named Kathy so I'm clearly not qualified to tell multi-billion dollar companies how to acquire and distribute their products for maximum profitability. Furthermore, I certainly didn't think that almost 40 years later I would be pondering Economies of Scale or else I'd payed more attention. 

 

Despite that, our Santa Fe has been a solid investment even though there have been some bumps along the 200,000-mile highway.

 

We purchased it brand new in February 2015 ostensibly because it offered the best domestic warranty in the industry: 5 years/60,000 miles bumper-to-bumper and 10 years/10,000 miles powertrain. After our Ford fiasco, I wasn't making the same mistake twice. But a decade ago, there was still some automotive prejudice present and genuine disbelief that I bought a brand-new Hyundai. I'm proud to say that's no longer the case as Hyundai, the automotive company, has proven itself time and time again over the past ten years. Despite a collapsing world economy, they continue to grow and expand, most recently reporting four years of consecutive record-breaking revenue and bringing total sales up 10% when most other automaker's sales have declined. 

 

Of course, it would be unfair to pigeon-hole Hyundai merely as a staid, boring family-car business since their N-Line division has some serious performance cred. In fact, their Ioniq 5 is so good that Motor Trend recently had a comparison between it and a 2025 Corvette before crowning Hyundai the winner! That's right, the Ioniq SUV beat the Corvette in every performance metric including horsepower, 0-60, Quarter-Mile, Braking Distance, Lateral Acceleration and was even $10,000 cheaper despite weighing some 1,300 lbs. more.     

 

Although it's primarily Amanda's car and I don't drive it often, I do have a couple instances where I embarrassed supposedly better, faster cars in much the same way the Ioniq surprised the Corvette. 

 

Two months after we purchased our Santa Fe, the first oil change was called for at 3,000 miles. This was my initial disappointment with our Santa Fe as I discovered that our turbocharged engine required an oil and filter change every 5,000 miles while the naturally-aspirated version managed to go an extra 2,500 miles before requiring the same procedure. Over 200,000 miles that meant we had an extra 14 oil changes which added around $1500 to the total depreciation.  

 

Just after cracking 10,000 miles in September 2015, I noticed Amanda had picked up a nail in her right front tire so that malady was repaired and we went on our merry way. 

 

Our new-car, honeymoon period ended nearly a year later in August 2016 when the left rear ABS wheel speed sensor died at just 28,000 miles. It was a premature failure for sure and was replaced under warranty. Since it was so close to the 30,000-mile annual service, we opted to pay to replace the engine air filter and cabin air filter in addition to the routine synthetic oil change. 

 

In January 2017, we received our first recall which was for a Turbo Oil Supply Pipe Leak, also something that didn't affect regular Santa Fe models. Essentially, a manufacturing defect in the oil feed pipe joint made it susceptible to cracking which could lead to oil leaks and a potential fire hazard in the engine bay. I've seen several million-dollar Ferrari F40s burn to the ground due to similar problems so I'm glad this was caught and remedied early. While in the service bay, an observant technician noticed the battery's voltage was below normal and replaced it under warranty also. Even though we hadn't noticed any sluggish cranking or other symptoms, I was nonetheless thrilled to get a brand-new OEM battery at 35,000 miles. 

 

A couple months later at 40,000 miles, Amanda picked up a foreign object in a different tire, thus necessitating another sealant plug. 

 

In June 2017, the right rear ABS wheel sensor failed less than a year after the left one. It was similarly replaced under warranty but it left me wondering if at some point the other two would also malfunction? 

 

2017 was certainly shaping up to be a busy year for warranty repairs as that Summer we were again summoned to the dealership for a faulty secondary hood latch cable that could corrode and fail to remain closed. Without remediation, this could cause the hood to fly open unexpectedly while driving which I found wildly hilarious. However, Amanda did not share my same sense of humor so it was promptly fixed. 

 

At 45,000 miles, I was again reminded why I hate our Turbo model because it was already time to replace the spark plugs, something not required on the base model until 90,000. It seemed extremely premature but to keep the factory warranty intact I acquiesced and paid the money, a whopping $47.40 for four Autolite Iridium plugs and $95 in labor.

 

In January 2018 and just shy of 60,000 miles, I opted to go ahead and replace both air filters while it was in for the oil change. Changing the cabin filter is a little more involved and was $16 in labor versus $15 for the engine one. That notwithstanding, the Santa Fe possesses the easiest engine air filter of any vehicle I've ever owned and literally takes 30 seconds to pop the latches and drop a new one in so the labor charge is pure profit. Strangely, the smaller cabin filter was $26.11 while the larger engine filter was only $20.98. It was also the first time we had to buy new wiper blades ($57.99 for parts & labor) as the factory ones had held up remarkably well. I've long maintained that those are made from better materials and are far superior to the ones you can even buy at the dealership. This experience simply reinforced that belief even more. 

 

A month later, I discovered a worrisome engine stumble while idling in a parking lot. It was diagnosed as a damaged ignition coil and replaced under the 100K powertrain warranty. And as has become customary,  the avaricious service advisors always seem to unearth something not covered by the warranty that needs fixing. In this case, it was new brake pads and rotors although I did succeed in negotiating to have the rotors resurfaced rather than buying new ones which saved me a few dollars. Even so, it was still a $427.28 hit with it being divided up to $280 labor and $109.98 in parts.

 

Unfortunately, the erratic idle returned and I was back 1,500 miles later. This time the culprit was identified as an errant spark plug and it was also replaced under warranty.

 

Everything was lollipops and rainbows for approximately six months until we undertook a trip to Atlanta for Halloween 2018. It was dark and the weather was terrible as we attempted to navigate the vehicular congestion on I-85. I was concentrating on the torrential rain and traffic when Amanda asked if the noise she heard was coming from our vehicle. I assured her that it wasn't and that it had to be coming from one of the cars around us. Yet, despite being in childcare and listening to screaming kids for twenty years, she inexplicably still has better hearing then me. Eventually, the knocking became so pronounced that even I heard it and it was soon joined by a barrage of frightening orange and red dashboard lights that are never a good sign.  

 

I coaxed the Santa Fe to our hotel as the mechanical surging and bucking intensified while the forward momentum drastically declined. Being metro Atlanta, there was luckily a Hyundai dealership a few blocks from our hotel and I was able to limp it there before it literally died in the service department aisle.  

                  

The diagnosis was swift and fatal: Like a "Window Maker" heart attack, oil starvation in the engine passages caused it to completely seize up. That ominous knocking that Amanda had first heard was the moribund "Death Rattle" of the engine in it's final throes.

 

The official explanation blamed the malady on metal debris from the crankshaft deburring process which clogged the oil passages and accelerated the bearing wear to the ultimate point of total failure. Much to Hyundai's chagrin, it affected over one million models built between 2011 to 2014. Even worse, I brought this up to my local Hyundai dealership's attention early on in our ownership because I was concerned about the unusual oil consumption and excessive carbon soot on the exhaust pipes. However, my fears were quickly dismissed by an irresponsible mechanic who claimed it was "normal" for a new, direct-injection engine. But without access to any elemental spectroscopy to identify abnormal metal wear in the oil, I blindly trusted his (supposedly) professional assessment.  

 

Despite that, the warranty I had so carefully protected with each and every overpriced service visit finally paid off when Hyundai put us in a long-term Santa Fe loaner and replaced the engine and turbocharger. By various invoices I saw, I later calculated that it would have cost me roughly $3,000 for the rental car use and $10,000 for the new engine and turbo during the 14 weeks our Santa Fe was out of commission.

 

But those 3.5 months with a Santa Fe rental were some of the most liberating of my life as I was only responsible for putting fuel in it. As such, we deliberately drove it as much as possible including a whole loop of Texas and a trip to Disney World. Thankfully, it was unlimited mileage and we racked up over 7,000 miles with it— essentially enough distance to circumnavigate the entire United States.    

 

Two months and 2,000 miles later in our renewed Santa Fe, our local dealer performed an ECU update and fuel pipe inspection under warranty. The new engine was humming along beautifully and the only thing I had to do was add a few ounces of antifreeze.

 

The next 18 months were thankfully uneventful, with only the rotors requiring resurfacing and an errant rock necessitating a new windshield. These items clearly fall under the heading of routine maintenance and plain ole bad luck so it was nothing we could fault the Hyundai for. Safelite dutifully came to Amanda's job and replaced the windshield there. It cost $401.22 to install it and $65 for the service call but fortunately we've never needed a new one since then.   

 

At 90,000 in January 2020 our second battery failed so it was technically the first one we had to buy for the Santa Fe. Even so, it seems the longevity of automotive batteries is getting shorter and shorter while prices continue to expand. A new Interstate unit cost $103 and the dealership charged $25 for labor.

 

A visit to the abandoned Ferrari dealership in 2020.

  

In the Summer of 2020, just shy of 95,000 miles, we experienced our first unusual item breakage. The plastic piece that surrounds the driver seat suddenly broke in the middle. Of course, the part itself and the labor to replace it was outrageous so I simply wrapped enough electrical tape around it to hold it in place. It was admittedly not the most elegant solution but it worked well and cost nothing except a little time and ingenuity. Regardless, it was the first (of many) bizarre foibles that the Hyundai would develop over the next five years.  

       

For Valentine's 2021, Cupid wasn't kind to us and were forced to resurface the rotors (again) as well as replace the brake pads at 110,000 miles for $297.46. 

 

Unbelievably, just 3,000 miles later the Santa Fe was back in the shop for more brake pads and new calipers. The hillbilly tire shop around the corner from our house didn't fix the problem so we had to take it to another place to get it done correctly. We made the mistake of choosing a tire shop for convenience when we should have based it on competence. Due to the uneven wear, we also replaced all four tires which escalated the repair costs tremendously to $828.91.

 

The unprofessional appearance should have been our first clue to avoid this place!

 

Mercifully, we had almost a full year of trouble-free operation before new rotors were required at 128,000. 

 

In the fall of 2022, the Santa Fe was nearly 100,000 miles OVER the recommended spark plug change. Remember, Hyundai has an usually stringent maintenance interval which dictates replacing them every 45,000 miles. But despite having 94,000 miles on them, the plugs looked remarkably fresh with a clean, even burn and a gap still well within factory tolerances. As such, it seems Hyundai's service cycle is extremely conservative, leaning more toward dealership revenue than actual mechanical necessity. I replaced them myself and saved roughly $250 over what the dealership quoted me, despite a dishonest service advisor who claimed the cost was due to the Santa Fe having six spark plugs! He checked the vehicle in and knew it was a turbocharged four-cylinder but hoped the blatant lie would facilitate his knavery. Following that exchange we never visited that dealership again.     

 

For Spring 2023, I was greeted with the first burned-out headlight bulb. Of course, this was due to the always-on DRLs which I detest. I think headlights during the day are stupid unless you're in a funeral procession or inclement weather but Amanda is a creature of convenience and thus prefers leaving the headlights on "Auto" instead of "DRL OFF." So, the embrace of indolence directly translates to premature failure as the bulb's life cycle is drastically shortened by the constant use. And as the old aphorism states, "They Don't Make Them Like They Used To" so changing out the bulb is immensely involved since there's virtually no room to access it without removing the entire front bumper. Predictably, my pleas to leave the DRLs disabled fell on deaf ears as the next time i drove it I had to turn them off again! 

 

In September 2023, we were again required to replace the battery with the previous one lasting us almost 4 years and 70,000 miles. However, inflation meant that our Walmart EverStart budget battery with free installation now ended up costing us $153.82, a considerable price hike over the much better Interstate battery we purchased from the dealership.     

 

The following month, we had one of the strangest automotive ailments to date, whereby the rear brake lights stayed on and refused to go off. It was traced to a faulty brake light switch. At the same time, the third wheel speed sensor was replaced and the air-conditioning was refilled with R-134a refrigerant. Since it was no longer under warranty, we actually had to pay for this speed sensor and it was $82.99 for the part and $55.70 for the labor. I recently discovered a high-school classmate that has his own automotive business so this was performed there. He also charged me a flat $60 to remove and replace the brake light switch and $40 for the A/C.  

 

At Christmas 2023, Santa didn't bring me a new passenger side low-beam bulb but I still had to change it out, meaning both had to be replaced within 9 months.   

 

In February 2024 at 171,000 miles, we were caught outside New Orleans in one of the single worst storms I've ever driven in. Ironically, we wouldn't have even been over there had we not met Tyler Florence and participated in an episode of The Great Food Truck Race. The hail was so bad that it literally ripped the paint off the hood but thankfully it didn't crack the windshield.

 

The icy projectiles stripped the paint down to the bare metal. 

  

It was also around this time that the brake pedal began sticking and wouldn't release. This normally wouldn't be an issue except that Hyundai has the Santa Fe programmed to not crank unless the brake pedal is fully depressed. At one point, it got so bad that Amanda was stalled at work for thirty minutes before she got it started. This went on for a couple weeks while none of the recommendations on the internet worked. Finally, in a fit of pure frustration and rage one day after a particularly stressful day at work, Amanda stomped the brake pedal as hard as she possible could and it actually fixed it! Unbelievably, that unorthodox method did the trick and the issue hasn't returned.  

 

Just 30 days later, Amanda put the "Break" in "Spring Break" by running over a huge bolt that punctured the sidewall of the rear tire. She pulled over and called me, explaining that the tire was losing pressure so fast she couldn't keep driving on it. I met her in the parking lot of a Dollar General and aired it back up to 30 PSI, the most it would hold as it was badly hemorrhaging air. She then drove as fast as possible towards the closest tire shop, strategically stopping several times for me to temporarily reinflate the tire. Thankfully, she didn't get stopped by a State Trooper for her highly illegal speeds, but if she had, she thankfully possessed the visual evidence to back up her wild scenario of trying to outrun the tire's rapid deflation. A new economy tire at Wal-Mart cost $95 but with installation, taxes and various disposal fees it ballooned to $135.03 before Amanda was able to drive off. 

 

Our factory spare tire was used until a new replacement was ready.  

 

Since Summer was right around the corner and the Santa Fe's air-conditioning was feeling tepid, we spent $50 on another refrigerant recharge at my buddy's shop. Amazingly, it kept it cool throughout both brutally hot summers of 2024 and 2025.

 

In the fall of 2024 and with 180,000 on the odometer, the Hyundai developed two outlandish new complications I've never witnessed before: When attempting to slightly recline the driver's seat, Amanda accidentally pressed the wrong button and the seat became stuck in a bolt upright position. No matter how hard I pushed against it, the seat refused to budge and it left me wistfully yearning for the simplicity of a manual seatback. Secondly, the fuel-filler door release, bizarrely located in the inside driver door handle, began to stick and eventually quit working altogether, forcing Amanda to desperately pry it open with the ignition key at a gas station. I did some research and discovered that there was a manual release in the trunk for just such an occasion, so for the past year we've had to access it through the rear hatch every time we fill it up.              

 

But the idiotic obstacles didn't stop there. At 182,000 I was forced to replace the hood struts as the pressurized gas had all leaked out and the hood wouldn't stay open. Hyundai famously wanted $296 dollars for both OEM supports but I found an aftermarket version on RockAuto for just $8 apiece. I installed them myself in under 10 minutes and saved another $100 in dealership labor costs. I understand the luxury factor and appeal of automatic hood struts, but while the Fusion's manual prop rod is not nearly as sophisticated or pretty, it's certainly more practical and I never have to worry about it not working.  

 

1000 miles later, the Santa Fe developed an infuriatingly tiny pinhole leak in one of the radiator hoses which was too small to see but large enough to require almost daily doses of pricey Peak antifreeze. Additionally, the amount ingested would vary wildly from one day to the next with there being no rhyme or reason for the sporadic consumption. Hence, a ten-mile drive might see the level drop dangerously low while it remained unaffected by a 500-mile drive to Disney.

 

On December 1st 2024, I replaced the engine air filter just in time to race a BMW a few weeks later on Christmas eve. We were driving on I-10 when I noticed a white BMW rapidly approaching from behind. I was already doing 80+ in the left lane and there were several cars in front of me so I couldn't speed up anymore. However, here was some entitled young punk who thought he owned the road because he was driving a BMW, never mind that it was a lowly 228i with less power than our Hyundai. Despite that, he tried to pass me in the right lane so I quickly sped up to close the gap, a common cock-block maneuver that helps passholes like him cool their heels and reflect on the futility of their actions. Angered by this, he furiously swung right in behind me and began tailgating. I patiently waited for the vehicles in front of me to move over, and when the lane in front of me was clear, I dropped the hammer on him. By the time he realized what had happened, I had a full two-second head start and our  TD04HL4S turbocharger was shotgunning 15 PSI down the greedy gullet of the intake manifold. The BMW frantically tried to keep up, but with 240hp to our 264hp he simply couldn't catch us. Wary of cops and quickly approaching the Santa Fe's ridiculously-low 125-mph governor, I moved over into the right lane and gently tapped the brakes to let him know I was voluntarily ending the race. Hell hath no fury like the damaged ego of a bitter BMW fanboy who just got his ass handed to him by a 10 year-old, 200,000-mile Hyundai SUV!            

 

Our Santa Fe sauntered on through 2025 with just the usual minor maintenance items (tire rotation, two oil changes, etc.) until December when I could no longer ignore the tires which were getting dangerously bald. Originally rated for 60K miles, they now had 100K on them and I was worried about Amanda hydroplaning in the rain. To that effect, I decided on a huge 200K Tune-Up that would cost over $1000 but would include four brand new Goodyear tires, plus a new engine air-filter, Michelin wiper blades, a bottle of fuel-system cleaner and a fresh oil change.    

 

Alongside "The World's Largest Rocking Chair" in August 2025. 

  

With all of that completed by Christmas, I was feeling great about the prospect of keeping the Santa Fe possibly to 300,000. But fate had other ideas, as just two weeks later a guy ran through an intersection and plowed directly into us, spinning us around until a light pole acted as an ersatz arrestor. Had the metal stanchion not been there, we would have struck a car in the other lane. Thankfully, we weren't hurt but this was the third automobile that's been totaled in our household in just 13 months. It was also quite an undignified end to such a wonderful and reliable vehicle. 

 

R.I.P. January 3rd 2026.
        

Despite that, I'm trying to frame it as a blessing in disguise because there's no denying that with 215,352 miles on the odometer it was literally a ticking time bomb. The rebuilt engine had 145,000 on it and none of the other components (transmission, fuel pump, water pump, alternator, etc.) had ever been replaced. Furthermore, we had a huge laundry list of daily issues like an ABS wheel-speed sensor, oxygen sensor, coolant leak, oil-burning problem and it needed new brake pads and rotors. So, while I did have to eat the cost of the brand new tires, I managed to save a small fortune by not fixing the other items.

 

For now, we have to give the keys back to Enterprise as the standard rate is an outrageous $80 per day and for $2400/month I could lease something really exciting like a Ferrari. 

 

So, what did we learn from ten years and 215,532 miles in our Santa Fe? 

 

First and foremost, the gamble on a brand-new Hyundai (and it's standard 100,000-mile warranty) paid off in spades with the free replacement of an OEM battery, ignition coil, spark plug, two wheel speed sensors, a turbocharger and an entirely new engine. 

 

Secondly, it's not advisable to pay for any work at the dealership unless you're absolutely certain you need it to keep the factory warranty.

 

And finally, while the prices I quoted for services rendered at the dealership seem excessive, rest assured they're even more expensive now as prices have skyrocketed since Covid in 2020. Whenever possible, try to find an independent mechanic you trust and build a relationship with them. In the long run, such a connection can save you thousands over the lifespan of a vehicle.

 

As for us, we're now on the hunt for another vehicle. 

 

Wish us luck (we're sure gonna need it)!     

 

        

 

 

 

 

Collision Course!

An essay on the consequences of life and death. 

 

 

  Pirate Press             January 2026 

 

On Veteran's Day weekend 2025, Amanda and I were celebrating the one-year anniversary of the most tumultuous weekend of our lives: Both she and Victoria had nearly died when she succumbed to a diabetic coma and Victoria totaled her car in an accident, all within a 24-hour period.

 

But, as has become routine for us, our joy was cut short when Victoria never came home Saturday night and Amanda was unable to reach her Sunday morning. Even worse, no one we contacted knew where she was and a deep-seated concern began to set in. 

 

I have always preached that nothing good ever happens after midnight on a Saturday and I backed that up with statistics: Multiple studies show that Saturday has the highest number of fatal crashes, peaking between 9 p.m. and 4 a.m.. But as anyone who's ever raised a teenager can attest, they don't need parental input because they simply know it all and are invincible. I've often reminded Victoria of her two classmates that both died on their way back late from a Homecoming party but my protests fell on deaf ears.  

 

Our worst fears were confirmed when we finally did reach her and discovered that the car I had just bought her six months earlier was now also completely destroyed. But our relief that she was largely unhurt (save for some nasty contusions on her legs from the airbags) quickly gave way to anger that this all could have been avoided had she just heeded my advice and not been driving home at 3 a.m..

 

It was also revealed that she delayed calling us because she knew we'd be mad and (in her words) she was "trying to figure it out" as if she could simply wave a magic wand that would repair her car and we'd be none the wiser. In fact, we later learned that after she called a friend from the accident scene that half of Hurley— including a coworker and her boss— had all shown up. By the time we finally found out she'd been involved in accident it was over 5 hours later!

 

Her version of events were that she was driving home when a vehicle from the opposite direction crossed over into her lane and struck her . She was adamant about not being at fault, but reports from the scene had (not surprisingly) the other driver placing the blame squarely on Victoria, so the onus fell on the Highway Patrol to determine who was ultimately at fault. Of course, I went to bat for her, even going so far as to take my own pictures at the crash scene since I reasoned that the original night pictures might not show everything.  

 

Sure enough, the skid marks she claimed were generated when she slammed on the brakes were in her lane, and were straight and true. Moreover, it was plainly visible that the other driver's path had veered directly in front of her. However, I just had to hope that the State Trooper had gathered the same evidence as I did and then we'd have to wait for the accident report which hopefully was in our favor. 

 

The other driver was a 39 year-old male and a public records search revealed that he had a rap sheet as long as my arm for a string of arrests dating all the way back to 2008 for assorted vehicular and drug-related activity.  

 

 

In fact, prior to him hitting Victoria in November, he was arrested just six-months earlier in both May and April 2025. Although some of the details had been removed, he'd racked up TWELVE separate charges for the April arrest alone, including (but not limited to) Speeding, No Insurance, No Tag, Possession of a Controlled Substance, Use/Possession of Drug Paraphernalia, and Improper Turn.

  

In 2022, he was arrested for Possession of Drug Paraphernalia, Possession of a Controlled Substance, Public Intoxication, Illegal Possession of Prescription Drugs and Failure to Appear. Exhibiting a dangerous pattern that spans nearly twenty years, he was also arrested at just 22 years-old for No Driver's License, No Insurance, and Speeding. In short, he's the epitome of a serial offender and I was quite frankly stunned that he still possessed a driver's license and insurance. Undoubtedly, that speaks volumes about Alabama's unenforced penal codes and is a direct reflection of the 54.62% increase in traffic fatalities since 2015. 

 

But the first sign to me that he had a hazardous driving history was when it was discovered that he had "First Acceptance Insurance", a firm I'd never heard of and had to look up. Naturally, it was revealed as a budget policy for notoriously high-risk individuals. However, after this latest excursion, I couldn't imagine them continuing to insure him no matter how expensive the premium. 

 

There had also been vehement remarks from Victoria and her friends of his strange conduct after the wreck that led them to surmise he was under the influence of something unlawful. MHP also apparently suspected this too, as he was tested for both alcohol and drugs but the results were inconclusive, an outcome I chalked up to the limited efficacy of the roadside examination.  

 

We were initially told that the accident report would be available in 2-3 business days, which seemed reasonable. However, as the days accumulated and I continuously checked the Department of Public Safety (truly an oxymoron) for results, I was left empty-handed. This was obviously anxiety-inducing for myself, Amanda and Victoria as our fate was left up to the officer's discretion and we were concerned about the final verdict as to who would be declared at fault. Even worse, I was informed that a copy of the report was $50, a ridiculous sum given our taxes have already paid for everything involved in generating the findings.          

 

But, after nearly two weeks (of which I feel constituted an excessive amount of time devoted to gratuitous doughnut consumption and morally-reprehensible speed traps) the report was finished and justice was served when Victoria was found completely innocent of the wreck and any circumstances contributing to it.

 

Despite our jubilation, I was nevertheless concerned when I discovered some of the erroneous reporting such as identifying the offending vehicle as a 2019 BMW Z3 when it was clearly a 2014 BMW X3. Granted, I've never been much into BMWs but even I can spot the difference between a roadster and an SUV in the accident photos. And that unfortunately brings into focus a much larger issue, which is the "expert testimony" the State Trooper is expected to have given his job duties. Worse yet, the report was also allegedly verified and approved by another officer, who apparently didn't read it or also can't visually distinguish between a roadster and an SUV. Finally, I won't even mention that the Z3 officially ended production over twenty years ago in 2002.     

 

For comparison, there's a distinct contrast between the two vehicles that should be obvious to even an untrained eye. The raised rear hatch in the bottom accident photo is the most egregious evidence that it's not a two-door convertible.    

 

     

It also made no sense that the Trooper had Victoria's car towed 50 miles away to a lot in Biloxi, while the BMW was dropped off just 12 miles from us in Vancleave. At that point, we still had not even seen her car so we called the shop to find out if it was drivable. Not only did the employee confirm our worst suspicions that it was not, Amanda nearly fainted when he admitted it was so mangled he didn't know how Victoria survived. To hear that we almost lost our only child because of someone's deliberate negligence absolutely petrified Amanda and completely infuriated me. (BELOW: Her car at the crash scene and later at the junkyard.)    

 

 

As I mentioned earlier, she'd only had the car for six-months before the accident. And just two-weeks prior, I'd paid $100 for it's first synthetic oil change at the Hyundai dealership and $150 for a new tire when something punctured the sidewall.   

 

But, the sordid saga doesn't end there: As everything was being wrapped up and I was looking forward to putting it being all behind us, I received a call from our insurance company late one afternoon. I was informed that when they attempted to contact Mr. Tuck's insurance, they discovered that the policy was not valid. But his obfuscation didn't stop there; No, he then attempted to avail himself of the consequences by telling my insurance agent that the accident report was wrong and that it was being amended to reflect that Victoria was actually the guilty party. Of course, it was a desperate falsehood but one that my insurance was compelled to investigate nonetheless, delaying the resolution even longer. 

 

Addiction is a cruel mistress and I suppose he rationalized that his defensive mechanism of deception— however temporary—would buy him some immediate time to strategize his next move. It's actually a pretty common trait in those with substance abuse issues as they have no long-term plan and thus no regard for future repercussions. 

 

With his heedless history and willful contempt of the laws meant to protect us, I honestly feel like it's only a matter of time before he kills himself or someone else if he isn't permanently locked up. Furthermore, he's made it abundantly clear that no amount of arrests will prevent him from getting behind the wheel again, no matter the human or financial casualties.                 

 

Unfortunately for him, his drug-fueled behavior towards Victoria (which I feel constitutes attempted murder) birthed an incalculable rage in me that I've heretofore never experienced towards another human being. Sure, I've had childhood fights and animosity towards other people for various transgressions over the years but the emergence of this raw emotion was on a whole new level. Here was a stranger that could have killed my innocent daughter with his reckless disregard for life when he swerved into her lane. By the grace of God she wasn't seriously hurt but with his name, photo and address I was fully prepared to dispense my own brand of punishment. I was raised in a strict, military household that embraced the Old Testament and advocated the "Eye for an Eye" doctrine. My Father was an ex-Marine who killed multiple Japanese soldiers in World War II protecting himself, his family and his country. As such, I've never believed the liberalism of the New Testament which preaches forgiveness instead of vengeance. I've made it very clear that had she died as a result of his selfish actions, he wouldn't have lived long enough to worry about a trial or prison. At this stage of my life, I'd rather take the law into my own hands and make sure justice was served instead of spending the rest of my days with the regret of doing nothing. He had better pray to whatever deity he worships that I never darken his doorway!  

 

Aside from that, we're hoping 2026 is a better year for all of us.

 

 

  

 

Disney or Bust!

We drove 1,200 miles to see a Mouse dressed as a Vampire.  

 

  Pirate Press             December 2025 

An All-New Story in Familiar Packaging

 

For our 25th Wedding Anniversary, I wanted to do something special to express my gratitude to Amanda for tolerating me all these years. (30 years if you count how long we've actually been together.)  I wistfully began planning this special occasion a year ago but life's ups and downs (okay, mostly downs) conspired to complicate any plans I tried to make. There was her three ICU visits in 2024, including the one in Memphis where she nearly met Elvis. This year has been a daily battle with Type 1 diabetes, neuropathy and balance issues from her 2018 brain surgery, thyroid deficiency, Celiac disease, Lupus, and a whole host of other undiagnosed illnesses that plague her constantly. The final straw of her sanity came at the end of August when she was suddenly informed that her position was being "dissolved" by the Healthcare company she had worked for the past three years. There was no warning, only a call from HR that she was no longer needed and would be escorted off the premises. Apparently, they thought she might get violent which I deemed hilarious. She called me sobbing so hard that I thought something terrible had happened to Victoria, so I was actually relieved when I found out she had only lost her job. Firing her was the latest move by the company to preserve their precious profit margins and ensure that all the execs continued to receive their overinflated salaries and bonuses generated by charging insurance companies $1000 for $10 worth of medicine. The two remaining employees have now had to absorb all of Amanda's duties and responsibilities with no pay increase and are actively looking for new jobs themselves. It was a toxic business culture so I'm glad she's gone but fate has certainly not been kind as she was completely blind-sided and had no other employment lined up.    

 

Initially, I had wanted to take her to Hawaii but those plans fell through and then she mentioned wanting to see The Wizard of Oz at Sphere in Las Vegas. I was looking at tickets for that when she asserted what she really wanted to do was attend the the fall festival at Magic Kingdom, whimsically known as "Mickey's-Not-So-Scary Halloween Party." Perhaps it's the nostalgia as the only time we've ever attended it was on our first visit to Disney in 2009. Understandably, *ALOT* has changed since then, most notably the popularity and the prices. I clearly recall buying tickets to it the day of the event whereas now it's sold out months in advance. Likewise, the admission cost for all three of us was around $125 then, less than the cost of a single $159 ticket now. And that's for our September date— I've seen prices as high as $259 per person on October 31st. Make no mistake, Disney masquerades as "The Happiest Place on Earth" but their corporate greed is unrivaled. And with Amanda being unemployed, it would certainly make for our most financially irresponsible vacation ever.  

But despite my disdain for Disney, I'm outnumbered so Amanda and Victoria got their way. As such, we left at 5:00am the day before to ensure there wouldn't be any SNAFUs the day of the event. Disney is adamant that there are NO REFUNDS for the party and that it happens rain or shine. I wasn't going to gamble the $500 I'd paid for tickets on their benevolence (or lack thereof) but there was a storm brewing that would certainly test their refund policy. 

 

We've made the 8-hour drive to Orlando so many times now that I can practically do it in my sleep. However, that seems to be a luxury I'm never afforded as Amanda and Victoria are always the ones who get away with it while I'm stuck behind the wheel. But this time I was more vigilant than usual as our 2015 Hyundai Santa Fe had just recently crossed the extraordinary 200,000-mile threshold and I was keenly listening for any signs or symptoms of an impending breakdown. Within the past few years our Hyundai has developed an unpredictable assortment of maladies that have routinely fixed themselves but two that have not are the oil and antifreeze. Naturally, these two vital fluids require constant supervision as exsanguination of either could have engine-ending consequences. Because of that, I packed two gallons of Peak's Asian Vehicle antifreeze and a quart of 15w-40 High-Mileage motor oil. Curiously, the engine coolant is a beautiful blue raspberry color but tastes nothing like it. However, a couple swigs provide more of a jolt than any over-caffeinated energy drink thereby ensuring I'm wide awake. Likewise for the high-viscosity motor oil; the owner's manual stipulates 5w-20 but I've personally upped the thickness in an attempt to slow the consumption. That notwithstanding, I'm amazed that the turbocharged 2.0-liter engine still runs smoothly and continues to return almost 30 mpg on a steady diet of ignominious 87 octane. And as we drove south, the gasoline prices continued to march north ending up nearly $1 per gallon more in Orlando, the undisputed tourist-trap capital of Florida. Some predatory gas stations take advantage of gullible foreign travelers with prices that should be in liters instead of gallons. 

 

 

 

Thankfully, there was a Florida State game being televised so most of the indigenous were ensconced in their dwellings dutifully destroying their brain cells with myriad chemicals when we arrived in Tallahassee. Yet despite record-high population growth, Florida's capital city seemingly cannot entice industry-leading restaurant franchises from fleeing. In the past few years, they've lost perennial favorites such as Chuy's, BurgerFi and most recently, Smash Burger. That left only Culver's as a viable option. It's also somewhat of a geographic anomaly as we have one in Mobile and Pensacola but there are no locations in the Northeast, Mid-Atlantic, West Coast, or Hawaii. Culver's is higher quality fare than typical fast food but I haven't eaten there since I first tried it in 2019. So with no other decent alternatives until Gainesville (which was 150 miles away) we decided to stop and give it another shot.  

Back in 2021, Culver's posted an April Fool's joke of a giant cheese curd sandwiched between two buns an declared it the "Curder Burger." The response was so overwhelmingly positive that Culver's decided to actually offer it on the menu during Octoberfest every year.  Originating from Wisconsin, cheese curds are a big part of their culture and I quite frankly enjoyed them much more than I expected to. However, I had to consume them with discretion as a large order packed 980 calories, more than even their double deluxe ButterBurger I ordered. And with another four hours before we reached Disney, I didn't want it to be evacuated faster than grease through a goose!  

Back on the interstate, but before the dreaded I-75 interchange, I spotted a bright red convoy of three semi-trucks hauling colorfully-adorned trailers. As we drew closer, I thought my eyes were deceiving me as it looked like the famous Prancing Horse logo on them. Of course, I'm so Ferrari-obsessed that I'm accustomed to visualizing the Cavallino Rampante on just about everything, from clouds to mashed potatoes. However, this was no figment of my imagination as it was indeed a fleet returning to The Collection, the official Ferrari dealer of Miami.   

Inside the cargo containers were several $425,000 296 Challenge cars, the racing version of Ferrari's standard 296 GTB road car. For a paltry $1 million per season (plus the cost of the car) any well-heeled individual can participate in Ferrari's race series. Currently, the top U.S. driver is Dylan Medler, a 21 year-old undergraduate student at the University of Miami. Although no occupation is listed, it's unclear where his financial support comes from as the Challenge series does not offer cash prizes nor is it presumably being bankrolled by his student loans. But if it is, I'd definitely like to enroll in that curriculum. 

 

Differentiating his 296 Challenge car from the showroom version is the old racing adage that "Less is More." The complicated (and heavy) hybrid system in the street car is ditched in favor of keeping just the twin-turbocharged 3.0-liter V6. On it's own, the engine makes 690hp, down from the electrically-assisted 820hp but it revs 500rpm higher. The 296 also weighs 308 pounds less and benefits from wind-tunnel development that produces 1,900 pounds of downforce at 155mph. The net sum of these mechanical ministrations means that the Challenge car is significantly faster around a circuit than the production version, despite possessing 130 less horsepower.  

 

And as much as I admire those automobiles, I certainly wouldn't have wanted to be driving one the rest of the way to Disney: There's only seating for two, zero room for any luggage, and worst of all— no luxuries like air-conditioning or sound-deadening. 

  

Longtime friend B.J. Lyon (pictured in blue shirt) took delivery of his 296 GTB last Summer.

 

Meanwhile, our Santa Fe was commendably covering the miles but not without more red lights than Amsterdam's famous prostitution district. I counted five in total, although I surmised that three were for a faulty ABS wheel-speed sensor. The other seemed to reference a malfunctioning Blind Spot Detection system and a general Check Engine light. The Engine Light is a frequent visitor and the only adverse effect from it seems to be slightly worse fuel economy possibly indicating a bad oxygen sensor. But since none of them were actually hindering our progress— and the Cruise Control surprisingly still worked— I pressed on. 

 

Near Ocala, we stopped for a short break at a rest area before resuming the final leg of our drive. We hadn't ventured far back onto the highway when I saw a commotion in front of us with several vehicles pulled off on the side of the highway. As we passed, I noticed it was the Ferrari crew with one of the employees furiously waving a red flag to warn other motorists of the traffic hazard. A regular accident can be costly enough but I can't imagine the damage when there's over $2 million worth of race cars involved. As Ferraris have a reputation for being notoriously unreliable, it led me to joke that their transporters are even less dependable than their cars!

 

Thankfully, (and unlike our last visit) we made it the final way to Lake Buena Vista without encountering any Suicidal Swifties. But while that was the first hurdle completed, I was acutely aware of Hurricane Gabrielle, a deadly Category 4 storm that was brewing off the eastern coast of Florida. With my luck, I was fully prepared for it to come ashore and wreck our plans but it never did so the weather gods were definitely on our side. In fact, there were 13 named storms this year, four of which became major hurricanes, yet not a single one made landfall in North America. Thanks to a fortuitous combination of atmospheric conditions like a big upper-level trough over the Eastern U.S. and a weaker subtropical high in the Atlantic, a pseudo weather-shield was formed that deflected hurricanes away and back out to sea. It was the first time in a decade that meteorologists had witnessed such an unusual phenomenon, and they were at a loss to explain it. But, without it, they warned that we would have looked back on this hurricane season very, very differently.   

The Halloween Party didn't officially start until 7pm and concluded at Midnight, but we were allowed early entrance to Magic Kingdom at 4pm so we wanted to capitalize on it as much as possible. I warned Amanda and Victoria that while 8 hours sounds like a lot of time, it really wouldn't be. Indeed, 8 hours at work can drag on sometimes for a seeming eternity but the gates at Disney are like entering a Black Hole where time (and money) gets sucked away frighteningly faster.

 

We hadn't been to Orlando in almost three years so I was completely unprepared for how much worse the traffic had gotten. We used Waze as much as possible to skirt the Interstate 4 gridlock and we also tried to stick to the side roads. But even so, it generally took us around 15 minutes just to travel 3 miles. It makes me wonder if ignorance is bliss, why is everyone so angry?

 

The typical Interstate 4 traffic we encountered everywhere we went. 

 

Since it was a spur-of-the-moment trip, all the Park hotels were booked so we ended up staying at a Marriott in Disney Springs. It turned out to be fantastic (and much quieter and cheaper than actually staying onsite) but their shuttle service ended before Midnight so we had to drive ourselves to Magic Kingdom for the party. On our trips in the past we've always been able to use some form of park transportation, whether it be boat, bus or monorail so I was reasonably confident it wouldn't be a big deal. After all, I've seen the huge parking lot outside Magic Kingdom crammed with thousands of cars so I knew there was plenty of room. 

 

However, the first pain point came in learning we had to pay $30 just to park for the event, something I argued should have been included in the $159 Halloween tickets. Ideally, we could have skirted that by parking for free at Disney Springs and then catching a bus into Magic Kingdom, but again the late return hour prohibited that. 

 

The next pain point came upon realizing that we couldn't actually park at Magic Kingdom. No, the brutal irony is that the thousands of cars parked there all belong to employees. Us— the paying customers— are treated like third-class Steerage passengers on the Titanic and were forced to park across the lake and catch a boat over to Magic Kingdom. 

 

We were directed to a massive parking area where hundreds of other cars were also trickling in. Fortunately, Amanda had her Handicap placard so we were able to bypass a lot of the initial traffic and make our way to the front. But since every handicapped spot was already taken, I dropped them off at the very front and then had to drive around until I could find a vacant space. Even so, it was roughly a half-mile away so I briskly ran it in an attempt to avoid losing any more time. 

 

After I rejoined them I learned we were in a shadowy netherworld called the "Ticket and Transportation Center". It's like Disney Purgatory where some tragic souls get stuck for eternity (or at least it feels like it). The name is a misnomer since you can't actually buy tickets and there are no specials characters, decorations or rides. It looks like a dystopian area out of "The Hunger Games" and adding to the misery, the heat and humidity were both simmering around 100. Eventually, the boat from Magic Kingdom arrived and we were crammed onto it like cattle going to a Charnal House. The only thing remaining was our journey across the River Styx to reach the Underworld. 

 

Once we were miserably disgorged at the dock, everyone made a mad scramble for the entrance gates where we still had to provide our tickets and have our fingerprints scanned. From beginning to end, the entire process took nearly an hour which is completely unacceptable. Disney has the manpower and resources to streamline the process but since they already have our money there's no incentive for them to do better. Honestly, I'm sure the park employees would prefer we didn't even show up as some of them had quite the attitude about working the late-night event. 

 

Count Mickey will bleed you dry. 

  

However, my first order of business was getting to TRON: Lightcycle Power run, the newest and fastest roller coaster at Disney. As the name implies, it's based on the TRON movie franchise which Disney has been desperately trying to resuscitate. (Spoiler Alert: TRON: Ares is looking to be the biggest box-office bomb of 2025 with a net loss of $132 million). But, when I think of TRON, I remember the 1982 movie and arcade game. While the movie had a cool premise that every teenage gamer dreamed about, the real draw was the cutting-edge graphics. Forty years on, they haven't aged well but I still was eager to try the life-size version of the game I spent so many quarters on during my formative years.  

 

For my money, TRON is the most visually-impressive ride anywhere as the chameleonic, color-changing canopy is simply stunning, particularly at night when we rode it. The Upload Conduit ceiling covers the outdoor portion of the roller coaster and pulses with kinetic energy in waves of blue, orange and red. However, we learned that the red color was a temporary overlay to celebrate the tie-in with the TRON: Ares film. Victoria had ridden it earlier in the year with her college dance team and warned me not to sit in the front. She said it goes so fast that the wind and rain really stings your face. 

 

 

 

Typically, the wait can be over an hour and many riders simply elect to pay an extra $20-25 for a Lightning Lane pass so they can skip the lines. Of course, Disney loves when they do this because it's just pure profit for them. Previously, every park ticket came with three Fast Passes that could be used on any ride but Disney cancelled that in 2021 and replaced it with the pay-per-ride scheme. Fortunately for us as Halloween Party guests, we didn't have to abide by those rules and were able to walk right on to Tron. 

 

Appropriately, Tron is located in Tomorowland next to Space Mountain. Disney lore has it that the area was originally reserved for a Matterhorn ride similar to the one in Disneyland but that never materialized.  

 

Unlike the musty, time-worn odor of, say, It's a Small World, Tron has that enticing "New Car Smell" of adhesive, plastic and vinyl. It's also the only Disney ride anywhere that requires you to place your belongings in a locker before boarding. Considering that Rock N' Roller Coaster subjects riders to three inversions and doesn't mandate a locker should also tell you something about how unruly TRON is. Prior to this, I believe Universal Studio's The Mummy is the only other ride that mandated a locker and it's notoriously rough.

 

Boarding the TRON ride. 

 

Of course, with a total of 14 seats in pairs of two, Victoria and I got stuck in the very front, exactly what she had warned me about due to the eye-watering acceleration and lack of any windscreen.  

 

The Lightcycles in TRON are also quite similar to the "Banshees" that guests ride in Avatar's Flight of Passage only they're not static displays. Nope, the Lightcycles leap to 60 mph in under 3 seconds for an exhilarating slingshot launch. Although there's no exact figure, estimates put that number between 2.5 to 2.8 seconds before it climbs nearly 80 feet up and around. 

 

Pressed to describe it with an adjective, I think "Violent" is probably the best approximation given that the definition is for something "marked by the use of harmful or destructive physical force." Indeed, I felt like a hapless passenger astride an atomic bull. Victoria really enjoyed the kinetic frenzy but I had imagined something that was both smooth and fast, like a real Lightcycle. Mercifully, it was over in 60 seconds with a great sense of relief that my wife is all too familiar with. 

                    

And away we go! 

 

Amanda and Victoria also dragged me on the new Splash Mountain ride which was "re-themed" in 2024. The $150 million overhaul was spent to promote Disney's radical, political indoctrination which focuses on erasing our history rather than acknowledging it. Interestingly, it also conveniently shies away from the dark depiction of voodoo, black magic, bloody amulets and Ouija boards portrayed in the 2009 film that the new ride is based on. It seems Disney has quite the case of amnesia when it financially benefits their causes and helps advance their agenda.    

 

"Tiana's Bayou Adventure" takes place in a fictionalized New Orleans and I took exception to the fact of how inaccurately The Big Easy was portrayed. Therefore, I jotted a few notes down during the 9 minute ride and I plan to forward them on to Disney's Illuminati Imagineering department so they can achieve the most authentic experience possible: 

 

Board the boat: You'll board a log-shaped boat with a lap bar. Be prepared to step over the side of the boat to get in, carefully avoiding the spent ammo casings, empty beer cans and used hypodermic needles.  

 

Begin the indoor journey: The boat will move through The French Quarter, where you'll witness such urban spectacles as a collapsing Hard Rock Hotel, raging fires, and leaking levees that will eventually burst and flood the city.     

 

Encounter bayou critters: You will meet and hear various individuals such as crooked politicians, dirty cops, prostitutes and other New Orleans-style inhabitants engaged in numerous illicit activities. 

Witness a magical moment: Disgraced current mayor LaToya "The Destroyer" Cantrell appears and uses her "magic" to make $70,000 in taxpayer dollars suddenly disappear.   

 

Experience the drop: The boat will ascend a lift hill before descending the 52-foot drop at a 45-degree angle that simulates the 955-ft. plunge off the top of the Huey P. Long Bridge, a personal favorite of Crescent City suicide jumpers. 

 

Enjoy the party:  The ride concludes with a celebration in Hell presided over by Tom Benson, where you'll see the party in full swing and hear such prophetic music as "When The Saints Go Marching In."  

 

Exit the ride: You will disembark the boat and head to the gift shop where you can purchase multiple over-priced items produced by the finest child labor in Bangladesh or indulge in beignets sprinkled with fentanyl (aka "Pixie Dust").  

Incidentally, the picture above (and the one of us riding the Lightcycles) are part of Disney's "Memory Maker" service that takes snapshots that they then use to extort guests for criminally-large sums of money. For instance, avaricious Disney wants $210 for the handful of pictures that were taken of us on various rides. You can preview them in the Disney app, but they are watermarked to discourage people from using them as evidenced below in the "uncorrected" photo:  

 

 

In the past, a common practice has been to screenshot the pictures and upload them to social media anyway. However, even doing that has apparently outraged Disney enough that they went a step further and implemented a protection in the app that now blacks out the picture any time the screenshot function is used. In my opinion, this is beyond petty but it infuriated me so much that I deliberately invested the necessary time to circumvent these restrictions so I could present the pictures here without paying them a single cent!         

 

For our last meal in Orlando, I gave Amanda a laundry list of new places I thought we'd enjoy and asked her to pick one. Ironically, she picked Skyline Chili, which was the one I was least excited about. Truthfully, I'm not a big fan of chili and I believe it should only be consumed when it's actually chilly (and it definitely was not!) However, it has a huge cult-following so I decided to follow-thru and try it despite my apprehension. Fortunately, it was located in a new multi-use hotel, shopping and dining district known as Flamingo Crossings which was conveniently close to Disney's Animal Kingdom. 

 

 

My mistake was believing that chili (notably the popular Texas-style) is all the same so I was in for quite a surprise when I discovered what makes Cincinnati-style so special. For starters, it's served over thin spaghetti noodles and the hamburger on top is seasoned in a secret 100 year-old Greek blend of cinnamon, cloves, nutmeg and chocolate. Admittedly, it sounds unappetizing so it's probably a good thing I didn't know the ingredients beforehand. Also, I learned the proper way to order it is "Three Way" which constitutes the spaghetti, meat and topped with a pound of freshly shredded cheddar cheese. Indeed, it's hard to spot the chili due to the fromage overload. Finally, requesting it "Four Way" is with beans or onions while "Five Way" includes them both and is quite a hearty serving. 

 

If Heaven doesn't have Skyline Chili, I don't wanna go! 

Skyline's unique twist on the crackers also sees traditional Saltines swapped for oyster crackers (traditionally used with seafood) and it was the first time I've ever had them. Ironically, not only was it our cheapest meal, it was also my favorite due to the extraordinary flavor profile of the chili. Sadly, the nearest location not in Orlando is in Kentucky which is an even longer distance to drive. So, unless I'm visiting the Corvette factory in Bowling Green, the odds are slim to none that I'll be having Skyline again unless we're in Disney.

 

On the 8-hour drive back, I was keenly aware of Florida's recently passed House Bill 351. Known as the "Super Speeder" law, it's their latest way of generating income from motorists caught driving 50 mph over the posted limit or exceeding 100 mph. The first offense includes Up to 30 days in jail, a $500 fine, or both and I've seen videos circulating with police aggressively taking violators straight to jail. Of course, this abusive form of enforcement isn't realistic and does little for overall safety as anyone who's driven I-75 knows— if you're not doing at least 85 mph you're holding up traffic and likely to be rear-ended. Not surprisingly, I'm also guilty of surpassing 100 mph on our way home but I made sure there weren't any cops around when I did. Like I told Amanda, if they didn't want me to speed, they shouldn't have built Disney 500 miles away!

 

As we made it back into Alabama, I asked anyone if they wanted to stop at Buc-ee's and the answer was a resounding "No!" and I knew why: Back in 2017, we visited Buc-ee's (aka "Butt-cheeks") for the first time in Houston and it was a lot of fun. However, with two locations now within 100 miles of us, the luster is completely gone. Buc-ee's avarice-fueled expansion has ruined the novelty and excitement we used to feel. It's no longer special and the social-media popularity has made the whole experience miserable. Thanks to the incessant crowds, none of us want to deal with the nightmarish parking, shopping or prices. Buc-ee's has 36 travel centers in it's home state of Texas which grossed over $2 billion last year but apparently that's not enough for owner Arch Aplin. So, unless he decides to open "Hooters"-style strip clubs in each location called "Beavers", I don't have a reason to return. 

 

Hopefully coming soon to a Buc-ee's near you! 

Finally, we discovered that while the night we attended the Halloween party had been brutally hot, the attendees for the next night had quite literally —no pun intended— weathered a junior hurricane. Ferocious thunderstorms rolled in ruining the night for everyone. It sorely tested Disney's "No Refund" policy but despite the thousands of angry guests, no one was repaid their money. Instead, they were offered a One-Day Park Pass good for the next twelve months, which may or may not work with their future plans. 

 

             

And as for our anniversary vacation, I can't surmise it better than to quote the oddly-prescient lyrics of "It's a Small World." Because after receiving the credit card bill, it was indeed "A world of tears."