VW Sport IMSA GTI (Part 2: The pick-up, near death experiences)

I generally find myself to be a decisive person...except of course when I'm not. Generally though once I put my mind to do something, or am already in motion, I will keep plowing ahead like the bull that I am. This is usually how I 'get things done,' but when it came time to pick up the VW Sport IMSA GTI, it was what could have very nearly put us off the road, or worse.

Observe: A beautiful winter day. Nearly 70 degrees Fahrenheit and warm sun beaming down from overhead as I began to unpack the show-displays from trailer which I was borrowing from work, and got things sorted out for an early start on Saturday morning. My friend and co-worker (and very occasional contributor here) Jason had agreed to come along, and although it was going to be a marathon day, both of us were really looking forward to the road trip. Sure it was expected to be about a 13 hour drive round trip, but it was exciting! We were on our way to pick up the GTI...



At approximately 4:45 AM I received a text messsage from Steve, who rather ironically (or is it coincidentally) would be heading to Baltimore for the weekend, which concluded with 'A little snow this morning tapering off this afternoon. Safe trip!'" Hmm. I had forgotten that the region of New York State where we were heading was in fact quite far north compared to New York City, where I live, and the weather could indeed be different there. However I couldn't recall any mention of snow on any forecasts mentioning snow out west, so I got in my car and headed up to NGP's shop.



Everything was great for the first several hours of the trip. There were perhaps two excptions. Firstly, the stereo in the Ford F350 'Dualie' had no connection for an iPod. It did have a CD player, which would have been great, but neither of us thought to bring CDs. So it would be nothing but local radio all the way through the Keystone state of Pennsylvania and into New York. The other small issue was that neither of us even considered the possible temperature difference. A seemingly stupid thing to overlook, but somehow we did, and by the first stop for some snacks and to stretch our legs it was evident how stupid we were. It was COLD!



Cold and very windy. The extreme warmth from the day before was being shoved aside by a blast of chilled air coming in from Canada, and as everyone knows that will make for some strong winds. I read that gusts were in the neighborhood of 55-65mph, and I can say that it certainly felt like it with nothing more than a hooded sweatshirt to stay warm. At least I had gloves and my wool skull-cap, so it wasn't all bad, or so we thought.

As we proceeded north on U.S. Route 15, cutting through and over the majestic Appalachian mountains, it began to flurry occasionally. "How far are we from Canandaigua?" I asked Jason, who confirmed we had some miles to go. Hmm. Well a few flurries didn't mean much, after all, Steve said it was supposed to stop snowing there a few hours before we were even due to arrive, so it made for a nice element of surprise, but nothing to worry about right?

The flurries came and went as we continued north, with the big diesel V8 humming along and the 24' Haulmark dutifully following. 'No problem,' I thought, 'I've got this under control.' By the way, I should mention I've never driven more than a few miles towing this particular trailer. I've driven 25' box International box truck rentals and every sort of vehicle in between, but towing was something I'd not done much of.



Things began to change as soon as we left Interstate 86. We stopped off to re-fuel and head north on NY53, and things were beginning to deteriorate noticeably in terms of the weather. Wind gusts had picked up considerably, and the flurries were no longer stopping. The wind had the snow dancing across the highway, and was whipping it into little snow-tornados in the fields next to the road. We were also no longer on a major highway...this was your basic 2-lane road heading north through the mountains. Should we stop now? Should we turn around? This was debated, but 'F*ck it, we're here, just 50 miles to go and why turn back now?'

Yeah, maybe we should stop or turn around...

Famous last words? Very nearly. We chuckled when we saw the first drift of snow blown into the road. We began having doubts the first time it went all the way across. We began to second-guess ourselves the first time the back end of the truck kicked out on a particularly steep and slippery patch of asphalt. "Maybe we'd better check the manual for putting it into four-wheel-drive," I said to co-pilot Jason, "We may need it."

I think I can see a little bit of road there...it was the last we would see for some time.

Oh we needed it. I was coming to terms with the throttle and pedal pressure needed to balance the truck and trailer through the changing traction and road conditions, but eventually we were plunged into 100% snow-covered roads. We did what the manual said, but the truck didn't seem all the much better as far as traction or control went. Having gotten a dualie stuck in about 1" of snow in a flat parking lot, this didn't surprise me. Dualies suck in the snow They have too much torque, too much weight, and not enough traction...and it defintiely made me worry. As we passed through Naples to hit NY 21, I pulled over and we had a discussion about what to do. It was decided that although the roads had bad, we had been getting along okay. Keep the speeds down, light on the gas and brakes, and we'd get there. After all, we were nearly there, no sense in turning back now.

This snow build-up allows for an interesting dissection of trailer aerodynamics.

"If we get stopped or stuck on this hill, we're f*cked," Jason said, the tension evident in his voice.

"I know, I'm trying to keep it steady," I said. Things had gotten rather serious after driving through Naples. NY 21 runs directly next to Lake Canandaigua, and we're talking very close, sans guard rails. The snow covered road, now slippery and treacherous, comes a mere ten to fifteen feet from the edge of the lake at a few points and there is nothing of substance to keep you from plunging in directly. The murky, black water was a foreboding sight. As I kept the dualie going up the hill, I was not comforted by the thought of that water, now behind us at the bottom of the hill. "We should have stopped," I stated with a mixture of regret and alarm. Oh well, no turning back now.

Luck was not with us, and as the bend opened up an alarming picture was painted. A tractor-trailer was stopped dead in our lane. Not quite jack-knifed, but resting against the guardrail on the right hand side, it blocked our lane completely and oncoming traffic meant that the car in from of us was stopping. Not good.

Visions of the truck and trailer losing traction and getting stuck was one thing, but the hill was steep enough, and the conditions treacherous enough that a bigger problem of sliding down backwards was now a real possibility. I slowed the dualie to a crawl hoping that the traffic would clear before I had to stop completely. Luck was on our side, just barely. I laid into the horn to get the car in front of us moving. I eased into the oncoming lane and began crawling past the semi. At this point we were moving so slowly and managing the wheel spin was so difficult I just wanted to get past the big-rig, let alone up the hill.

Despite my best efforts, it was pretty clear we were not going all the way up at this point. To make matters worse the rear end began to slide towards the guardrail as I straightened out, after turning back into the right lane...we were moving forward at about 1mph, and I had about 1/4 turn of counter-steer dialed in on the steering wheel. The trailer bed and trailer were being dragged toward the edge.

"Damn it...we're screwed," I exclaimed, "Just let me know before the truck or trailer hits the guardrail and I'll stop"

Does this look like a man who stared death getting stuck on a mountainous snow covered road in the eye?

"You've got maybe six inches left," Jason informed me.

We stopped. Expletive. What to do now? I kept the truck steady, my right foot firmly on the brakes. I wasn't about to leave the task of holding all of the weight of the big Ford and the 24-foot to the rear tires alone. After some contemplation about what to do, wondering how long it would take to get a truck and trailer towed and whether or not my AAA would cover situations like this, I asked Jason to get out and double check the hubs...were they really automatic locking like the manual said? I seemed to remember them being manual hubs, but in times like this, who can recall such things with clarity?

It was like running through the trenches on the Death Star

Jason knelt down and ducked out of view over on the passenger side. He stood back up with a hint of a smile on his face, then proceeded over the driver's side, knelt down, and made his way back into the truck. "Yeah, the hubs weren't locked," he chuckled. Well then...that would explain why it felt no different when I kicked it into four-wheel-drive some miles back, was this a glimmer of hope that we'd still make the pick-up point? Only one way to tell.

I shifted pressure on the brake to my left foot, and slowly built up a little bit of load on the torque converter. Thank God for an automatic transmission on that beast. I eased my foot off the brake, the truck dug in, and we were back on our way! From a dead stop!

This view out of the windshield got old pretty quickly

After that, I knew nothing would stop us, not even the rather tricky and delicate task of backing of the trailer down a narrow one-way street, into an even narrower and longer driveway was going to intimidate me after that. I figured out that if I could maintain a solid 30mph up the hills it would have just enough torque to get us up and over, but without too much power or making wheel spin a problem. Downhill I kept it to very slow speeds, not wanting things to get away from me and making a stop impossible, should I need to make one quickly.



Once we arrived at Steve's place, his buddy Kevin was there to help us load up the GTI. There it was, under a tarp with fresh snow everywhere, packed to the brim with the parts seen in the Bring a Trailer post.



After doing a quick check over and inventory, we got things loaded as quickly and as safely as we could considering the weather. Kevin chuckled at our lack of preparation for the snow. I had to admit, we looked pretty foolish out there in our Vans, but I was so excited I really couldn't feel the cold much at all. Not even the wind was as bad once we made it there.





After asking Kevin what the flattest way home would be - there was no way we were going back the way we came - we ended up hitting Interstate I-90 heading East, before turning South again at Interstate 81. We had figured that it would only be a matter of minutes before we were out of the storm, but we ended up fighting the snowy conditions, with varying levels of intensity and visibility, all the way to Wilkes-Barre in Pennyslvania.

I don't think I've ever been so happy to be in Pennyslvania

All in all it was a long, intense, and totally unpredictable drive, but we made it home late Saturday night after a 17 hour round trip. Tired, but elated that we had survived and managed to bring the IMSA GTI home. At the time I can't say I was too pleased, and we were pretty close to freaking out at some points, it makes the whole story just that much better. From 1pm on Friday until 11:59pm on Sunday, out of a total possible number of 59 hours, I spent just under 27 hours behind the wheel of a car or truck.

But to get this:





It was totally worth it. And man do I love that truck.

I would recommend it to everyone / anyone.

Stay tuned for part three, where we unload, take stock and do a little searching to try and answer the question: So what exactly did we just buy?

Big thanks to my boss Dave Graf from NGP Racing letting us use the shop truck for the pick up run.

_WRS