Cracked Windshields

How do you know you are from Montana?  You drive motor vehicles with cracked windshields.

For the second time in a week my windshield took another hit from a flying rock from the car in front of me.  For the second time in a week my windshield sustained a chip in the glass.  For the second time in a week I threw my ordination out the window and said words that would melt the paint off of walls.  The world is beginning to look like a giant jig saw puzzle whenever I drive thanks to the growing cracks and chips that are in the windshield.

Now there are those of you out there who probably think that I am kidding when I say that most Montanans have cracked windshields . . . but, I kid you not.  Not one of the three vehicles that we own is without a crack or numerous chips or pits.  The children would have had a blast years ago connecting all the chips and pits with a marker . . . now I just get lots of creative reflections from the sun . . . sort of like a kaleidoscope or having way too much to drink.  All three of the vehicles have cracks.

There is no worse sound to my ears—except maybe the sound of a flat tire—than a stone hitting the windshield.  THWACK!  The louder the “thwack” the bigger the chip.  A chip would not be so bad except weather in Montana likes to go to extremes—cold and hot.  When the temperature gets below zero those chips like to expand into a crack.  When the temperature gets above a hundred and the windshield heats up to something over a 150 degree . . . well, those chips and pits like to move around the windshield like a drunk map drawer. 

Plus, whenever I hear a “thwack” my mind automatically hears “ka-ching”!  Ka-ching as in a cash register ringing up another sale . . . as in money flying out of my wallet and bank account.  That almost hurts more than the damage done to my windshield.  Needless to say, I am a little tight with my money.  Yeah, my wallet squeaks when I walk across the room.  Replacing windshields is expensive . . . multiply that by three and you can see why I cringe every time I hear the “thwack” of a rock hitting my windshield.

So, I drive with cracked windshields . . . at least until we get through the rock and ice season here in Montana.  I think that gives me about a two-week period in mid-July to get all three windshields replaced.  But, in the meantime, I drive with cracked windshields.  Unless I am driving into the sun it is really no problem, but when the sunlight hits those cracks just right it is like a light show at a Rolling Stones concert.  The special effects are amazing as I pray to God that I am still in my own lane.

I have been told that law enforcement can pull people over who have cracked windshields in Montana and issue a ticket for being a driving nuisance.  I have heard that, but I have never seen it.  I imagine that it would be more of a hassle because law enforcement would be pulling over just about every car and truck with a Montana license plate.  They would have no time to anything but issue tickets for cracked windshields.

Cracked windshields do not bother me as much as they bother the wife.  I think they add a sense of character and toughness to my little Volkswagen Jetta . . . the wife thinks that they make her Toyota Tacoma look trashy.  I figure that the cracks in the Jetta reflect the driver . . . I have been told numerous times that I am a little cracked.  Not really sure what people meant by that, but I often feel a little beat up . . . so, why not my car?

I have been having a sort of contest with the vehicles this winter.  Our Ford Ranger was winning, but the Jetta easily caught up this week.  The Tacoma is a distance third.  It is hard to say who will win at this point, but I am betting on the Jetta because it is my winter vehicle.  My goal is to make it to mid-July when I replace all the windshields without any of them falling out.  It is going to be close.  Ya gotta love living in Montana!