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What's Your Worst Holiday Travel Story?

Illustration for article titled Whats Your Worst Holiday Travel Story?

Ready, set, everybody cram onto the highways and airports! By the end of business today most Americans will be trying to get somewhere they’re not. If you make it through without much misery, good for you. Otherwise, get your horrendous highway adventures ready and tell us about them!


We did this a year ago and the results were amazing. Also, horrifying. So let’s do it again for 2015.

I sincerely hope you all make it to your families without much difficulty. But while you’re breaking bones shoveling snow, ruining your holiday cardigan with tire chain grease, falling asleep in traffic or spilling a $6 coffee in the baggage line, know that if your situation sucks badly enough you just might get five minutes of internet glory out of it.


Happy traveling!

Image via USFWS Mountain-Prairie. If your holiday trip brings you down Refuge Road, be advised that the bighorn sheep will lick the salt off your car.

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When I was 17 my Grandfather was very ill and dying, he was in Northern California and I lived with my mom in Los Angeles. My parents were divorced and my dad lived only 2 hours from my grandpa. My mom was going to leave Christmas afternoon to go see my grandfather and my dad, who was in town to see me, agreed to take me up the next day.

Christmas morning my dad let me know that because his new wife and step kids were planning a mountain trip that he could not take me. My mom was leaving in a couple hours and it was her responsibility because it was her father. He said he had a new family and that I would not be joining them on their vacation. His new wife said that she did not want someone grieving ruining a fun winter trip. I left right away and went home. My mom was surprised I was there, when I told her what happened she was not too shocked. She then said that she would have to see who in the family could take me in for the week, while she went to see my grandfather. No mention of taking me, no mention of trying to get me to see my grandfather. My own mother was calling around trying to dump me on someones porch.

While she was distracted I packed up a bag, grabbed my backpack and headed to a friends house. On Christmas day I had to ask my friends mom if I could stay for a while as I was not welcome by my family. I then called my mom, who was freaking out at first and then relieved that someone would take care of me. I did not move back home for a month. I had a job and paid for food and other necessities myself.

When I did move back home it was a rough 12 months. I then joined the Navy and have talked to my family little since.