Welcome to Santiago, Chile
You can see the projectile
YEET!
And that, folks, is how it’s done.

seen from United States
seen from Germany
seen from Malaysia

seen from Maldives
seen from Canada
seen from Germany

seen from United States
seen from Guatemala

seen from Canada
seen from Canada
seen from Brazil
seen from United Kingdom

seen from United States
seen from United States

seen from Canada

seen from Canada
seen from United States
seen from Hong Kong SAR China
seen from Indonesia

seen from Canada
Welcome to Santiago, Chile
You can see the projectile
YEET!
And that, folks, is how it’s done.
I was in no mood for a carjacking
Let me point out, first of all, that the incident occurred not on the mean streets of Los Angeles, but in Visalia, an agricultural-oriented city in the San Joaquin Valley, 200 miles north of L.A.
We were there because the guys who finally came to tow the Subaru from Sequoia (Valero Brothers Towning) said it was in Visalia that we would have the best chance of getting another tow (to a Subaru dealership) on Friday.
Luckily the Valeros consented to towing Sharon and me as well. So we jumped in the back seat of their flatbed for the one-hour ride. Meanwhile Sharon got on her phone and booked a room at the Marriott.
The Valeros managed to navigate all the tight corners in the hotel’s gated lot and got the Subaru ensconced in an out-of-the way spot. Then one of them took one more shot at starting the Subaru. Amazingly it sputtered to life.
So, while the Valeros were putting away their straps and chains and Sharon was getting us checked in, I decided to drive the car to a parking spot closer to the hotel. I got about 200 feet before the car stalled and, once again, failed to start.
Just then I noticed, through the windshield, in full daylight, a wild-eyed guy I judged to be in his 30s, approaching the car. I thought, for a moment, that he recognized my predicament and was going to help me push the Subaru into another spot.
As I rolled down the driver-side window, he grabbed the door handle, pulled the door open and shouted n an exceedingly unhelpful way, “I NEED YOUR CAR; GET OUT!”
Noticing no weapon, I replied,“F--- OFF. YOU’RE NOT GETTING THIS CAR.”
The guy turned around and started running back toward the street, flipping me the bird as he fled.
When I reported the incident to the hotel clerk, she said there was a park nearby that attracted a seedy element. Sometimes they drifted over to the hotel and panhandled the customers. She suspected the perp was one of those guys and said she would alert the night-shift security guard.
So Sharon and I retreated to our hotel room where we drank cocktails and pondered our predicament.
Tomorrow: Part Three: The Rescue.
A misadventure
II you asked me this morning if we made it to Sequoia National Park, I would have to say yes … and no.
The fact is that we made it to the very entrance gate but never saw a single big tree.
Brimming with anticipation, we flashed our senior-citizen pass. A friendly park ranger handed over a map and some verbal tips on how to proceed. But when I tried to do just that, the practically new Subaru Outback that Benjamin and Sacha had so generously lent us for the trip refused to budge. It stalled, then wouldn’t start again. The ranger helped us push it out of the way.
The day didn’t improve a bit from there. It included many frustrating phone calls, a 6-hour wait in 92-degree weather for a tow truck and a half-hearted, half-assed attempt at a carjacking that might have been scary if hadn’t been so ridiculous.
Tomorrow: Part Two: “F …. Off! You’re not getting this car!” and other aspects of a strange day way out there.