Splat!

 

What did the bug say to the windshield when crashing into it?  That’s me all over you!  What did the windshield say to the bug?  Bet you don’t have the guts to do that again!

Do you know what was the last thing that went through the bug’s mind when it hit the windshield? It’s rear end.

 

‘Tis the season!

 

Most of the time I don’t notice . . . don’t notice all of the bug guts smeared across the windshield of my car.  The only times that I do notice are when I am driving into the sun and the light reveals all those hundreds, thousands of bugs that came smashing into my windshield leaving their mark.  That can be frustrating because it makes it difficult to see where I am going.  Frustrated, I always turn wipers with the window washing fluid . . . and just smear those bug innards across the windshield in one glorious arch . . . and, suddenly I can see even less.  That is when I make a mental note that I need to clean my windshield the next time I get gas.  It is such a fleeting thought . . . quickly forgotten, until the next time the sunlight comes streaming through on my commute.

 

Unfortunately . . . others do notice.  They notice and enjoy pointing it out.  Typically, the usual comment is, “Yuck!”  Sometimes it is “gross.”  Whatever the adjective, the message comes across loud and clear . . . CLEAN THE WINDSHIELD!  I hear them.  I get the point.  Yet, at the same time, I cringe.  I cringe because it is an effort in futility.  It is insanity.  Someone once said, “Insanity is doing the same thing over and over again and expecting different results.”  That is what cleaning the bug strewn windshield is during the season of the bugs.

 

Bug splats on the windshield are a hassle.  As I have said numerous times, I don’t pay much attention to them unless they make a great big “splatting” sound when they hit the windshield.  Sound effects make them a little more interesting.  Though I do not give much attention to them, others do.  In fact, Mark Hostetler—an urban wildlife ecologist at the University of Florida, was curious about why bugs hit the windshield and why.  He calls himself a “splatologist”.  While researching birds and cities one summer, he broaden his research bugs and their splats on his windshield as he toodled across the country.  The result? That Gunk on Your Car: A Unique Guide to Insects of North America . . . a book about his research as a splatologist.

 

It seems that most splats occur at night.  Most bugs fly a mere four to five feet above the ground.  Headlights are mistaken for moonlight . . . which attracts the bugs and leads to their demise.  Bugs also do their splatting during the daytime.  Often, it is the night-time filled with vehicular light that attracts most of the bugs to their premature deaths on a windshield at 70 miles per hour.

 

With this knowledge the truth is revealed.  Bugs aren’t running into windshields.  Windshields run into bugs.  We drivers are the culprits . . . the guilty party . . . the ones to blame.  It is funny how we say “a bug hit my windshield” when we are the ones going 70 miles per hour.  I bet if you asked the bug’s family, they would describe it differently.  I guess it is a matter of perspective.

 

By the way . . . a splat is a splat, right?  According to Hostetler, you can tell a lot about splats from their color.  During the summer my windshield looks like some sort of psychedelic painting of three colors—red, yellow, and clear.  Yeah, I know, “clear” is not a color . . . but you know what I am talking about . . . the “clear” smear.  The splatologist states that the yellow or cream-colored splats are most likely a moth or a butterfly.  The red?  A splat with a bit of red in it is most likely a female.  Female because they are the biters.  That red is blood . . . somebody’s blood.  The female insect needs the blood for her eggs to develop.  Bet you didn’t know that!

 

Knowledge is great, but it doesn’t remove the bug goo off the windshield. That is the issue.  The “goo” is the substance that functions like blood in insects called hemolymph.  It is often that transparent liquid that quickly dries on the windshield glass.  It is quite sticky, causing the bug that’s smacked to stick and stay there.  It is compounded by the wind generated by the vehicle’s speed that accelerates the drying as well as the heat generated by both the car and sun, baking them on.  Though experts say that this substance isn’t impermeable . . . I’d say it is a kissing cousin to super- or Gorrilla-glue.  A hassle!

 

It is removable . . . but it is quite a process.  It is the process that slays me.

 

The first step, wash the car . . . gets the bulk of the dirt and grime off the car, but not all of it.  Buy some bug spray remove . . . spend the money to remove the honey.  If you haven’t figured it out, I am not a big fan of spending money.  Car wash soap . . . bug removal spray . . . wallet getting thinner.  After the car is washed, spray the bug removal spray all over the bugs clinging to the windshield.  Let it set for a while.  Now, take the cleaning cloth—microfiber is the best (again, more money) and start scrubbing the windshield.  Keep scrubbing.  A little more . . . might have to use an abrasive tool like a razor blade to scrape the bugs off even after soaking them in the removal spray—more $$$$.  Add in a little detailing spray—more $$$$--and the job is almost done.  Then the final touch-up is to get glass cleaner, spray down the windshield, and wipe ‘er on down.  Voila . . . clean windshield.  Just a little time (up to an hour), a little muscle power, and a substantial sum of moola . . . a clean windshield!

 

Five minutes later, driving down the road . . . splat.  Insanity!  Back to square one.

 

Trust me . . . I know.  ‘Tis the season . . . and it drives me buggy!

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!