How hard is it to pick up an imported car from a port? This is a question I’ve only asked myself once in my life because the answer is it’s so easy I’ve picked up cars all by myself twice rather than hiring someone to do it. Yet, somehow, I just turned a simple road trip for a port pickup into something so disastrous that it could have been torn out of a National Lampoon script. In the span of just twelve hours, I lost the key to a $111,000 truck, got another truck stuck while saving the first truck, and endured the most harrowing ordeal I’ve ever experienced on the road.
What you’re about to read is a tale of woe and stupidity. Trust me, I don’t need to be told that what I did was dumb. Not only did I live through this, but I experienced nightmares about it afterwards. However, maybe you’ll be a bit entertained by the chaos and hopefully never make the mistake I did.
This drive was supposed to be my dream road trip of this summer. I was driving out to the port to pick up a cool little car. My wife was going to get some much-needed time away from the courtroom. Ford even loaned me one of its coolest trucks, the new 2025 F-350 Super Duty Platinum Plus in a dual rear wheel configuration with a 6.7-liter Power Stroke High Output diesel engine. I actually asked Ford for the biggest truck in the press fleet. In part because I wanted to try an F-450, and in part because of the visual of the biggest truck hauling one of the smallest cars.
(Full Disclosure: Ford loaned me a 2025 F-350 Super Duty Platinum Plus for a little over a week to haul home my new-to-me 1997 Honda Life. Ford took such great care of me during this whole ordeal, and I cannot find the proper words to thank those lovely people enough.)
Sadly, the new F-450 on the press fleet wasn’t ready to hit the road yet. That didn’t matter because the truck that I did get was phenomenal. This 2025 Ford F-350 Super Duty DRW is now my second favorite new truck, only behind another Ford product, the F-150 FP700. If you gave me the choice of a new Mercedes-Benz or this truck, I would choose the truck in a heartbeat. But that is a story for my road trip review.
Instead, this is how I nearly ruined everything in the 11th hour.
A Big Truck With Long Legs
The drive out to Baltimore to pick up my 1997 Honda Life was supposed to be simple enough. I did this drive in the past to pick up my 1989 Suzuki Every van, and this time I figured I was going to avoid the mistakes of last time. This time, I was going to leave home bright and early so I didn’t have to drive through darkness for the majority of the route like I did last time.
This was a great choice as I got to witness just how beautiful this nation is. If you think this country is not much to look at, just hit the road towards any random direction, drive at least a few hundred miles, and you will not be disappointed.
For me, the scenery started changing on the Ohio Turnpike as the flatlands of the Midwest began turning into rolling hills. Those hills then morphed into Appalachia as I drove through Pennsylvania. I was captivated by the East Coast, and fascinated that I missed all of this last time just by driving at the wrong time of day.
Sadly, I never really stopped to take it all in. See, the F-350 Super Duty has a 48-gallon fuel tank, and the truck was getting 17.2 mpg with the empty U-Haul Auto Transport on the back. The Port of Baltimore was 773 miles from home and according to the truck’s fuel range guess-o-meter, I was going to make it to Baltimore was 30 miles of range to spare.
Making it to Baltimore on nothing more than stops for food breaks sounded exciting to me, and it sort of became a game to drive the huge truck at a relaxed speed to see my fuel economy get better. I stopped only three times on my way to Baltimore. I stopped on the Indiana Toll Road for lunch and at one more place in rural Maryland for fuel. I figured I should get fuel while it was cheap because it wasn’t going to be cheap near the port.
It was the third stop that did me in. Sheryl and my birds weren’t able to join me because of a scheduling conflict. So, Sheryl watched me make regular trip reports. Her suggestion was that I should eat dinner at a place called Ledo Pizza, a Maryland chain known for its unique sauce and rectangular shapes.
Based on my time of arrival, my best shot at hitting a Ledo Pizza before they closed for the night was to stop at the one in Hagerstown, Maryland. Besides, some huge evening construction work on I-70 East sent me on a detour through the city, anyway.
I stopped by the Ledo Pizza in Hagerstown, ordered my pie, and proceeded to be amazed by my wife’s dinner suggestion. Sheryl wasn’t lying. Both the sauce and the cheese were something I hadn’t tasted before here in the Midwest, and the crust was perfectly thin and just the right amount of crunchy. I highly recommend a visit to a Ledo Pizza if you’re ever out there.
The Dumb Decision That Changed Everything
Anyway, I do not eat in press vehicles, so I planned on dropping the tailgate and eating there. Accompanying me with the box of pizza was the truck’s key fob. I started thinking, and I decided to put the key somewhere safe. I’m not sure why, but I had this fear of leaving the key in the truck, the truck locking itself, and I’d end up stranded some eleven hours away from home with a fancy truck that’s not mine.
Logically, the solution to this worry would have been to open a window, or put on my jean jacket and put the key in the jacket, or take the key to the tailgate where I was eating, or put the key in my purse. Honestly, there were probably a million different things I could have done better. Maybe it was the 11 hours of straight driving, or maybe it was a brief moment of profound stupidity. I’m not sure what went through my head, but I plopped the key down on the cowl just in front of the windshield.
How stupid was this? Had I just walked literally two more steps, I could have put the key into the center console, where it would have been safe. But I didn’t do that. Instead, I enjoyed my pizza, hopped into the truck, and beat it to the I-70 East entrance that was just a mile down the road.
What Was That Noise?
As I throttled out of the cloverleaf and onto the Interstate, I heard a thump. Now, the truck does make thumping noises on its own, specifically when the electric running boards reach their closed position seconds after you get into the truck. I thought to myself, “Did the running boards just close?” But this didn’t make sense, because it wouldn’t have made sense for them to be open, anyway.
I then feared that maybe I left my purse, jacket, or phone on the outside of the truck, but nope, all of those were present. I thought that it must have been a rock kicked from the tires or something, as I rocketed past a sign stating that Baltimore was only 77 miles away. I was only an hour from my goal.
Then, it hit me. The truck’s key wasn’t next to my phone in the center console, where it had always resided for the whole trip. Then, it hit me again. I left the key on the cowling! Holy crap! My brain immediately went into panic mode. First, I thought that I’d just take the first exit, double back to where I heard the thump, and then use the truck’s super bright LED headlights to find the key. Sure, I’d have to drive dangerously slow and hold up traffic in a lane, but the F-350’s headlights basically turn night into daylight. I figured I wouldn’t block traffic for that long.
Then, I realized that the nearest exit was pretty far out. I then began to fear that the further I drove away from the key, the more unlikely it would be that I’d ever find it again. I was also a bit weirded out that the truck itself didn’t give me a warning or anything about the missing key. Based on the lack of a warning from the truck, I began to think that, wait, maybe the key was still on the truck, or maybe it was on the tonneau cover, or something.
The Ford Bricks Itself
I quickly, but gently, pulled off onto the shoulder, then put it into park. The moment I moved the shifter into that position, the truck finally sounded the “No Key Detected” warning and then shut itself down. Unfortunately, my hunch that the key was somewhere in or on the truck was wrong.
But what was even worse at that moment was how the truck effectively bricked itself. It locked me out of all major functions. I could not turn on accessory mode. This meant that I had no control of the windows, either. It was a cool night, so I had the sunroof in the fully open position in addition to the rear sliding window and the driver window. But no matter what I did, the truck wouldn’t let me close them. The only function the truck let me have was the ability to adjust my seat, turn on the infotainment system, and hit the hazards. Basically, I could jam out to my music and listen to the GPS bark at me to stay on I-70 for another 73 miles, but that’s it. As far as the truck was concerned, I was screwed.
Panic really set in then. Ford gave me resources to call in case of an emergency, but I knew from the start that none of them were going to be able to help me. Ford Roadside Assistance would not have the power to magically conjure a key. My press contact could reasonably be expected to have a backup key, but they were a full seven-hour drive away in Detroit – and the likelihood of them answering the phone at 10 p.m. was low, anyway. Calling the police wasn’t going to help me, either. At the very best, the only help anyone could give me was driving me to a hotel. I’d have to abandon the truck on the highway.
I made the subsequent bad decision to try to find the key. There were four major problems with that idea. One was that I had made it about a mile past the point when I heard the thump, so that’s just a huge search area to cover. The second issue was that it was pitch black with cloud cover. Then there was the fact that I was on a very busy Interstate corridor with semi-trucks blasting by every few seconds. Finally, the only light I had on me was my phone’s flashlight, which meant I would only have a narrow field of diffuse light.
Few Options, And I Chose The Worst One
I made the risky decision to search for the key. The key came off the truck when I was in the left lane, so I figured it would probably be on the left side, either in or near the median. I felt a little better about walking the median thanks to the guardrail that was there, but it was still outrageously dangerous. Had any one of those drivers not been paying attention, been distracted, or drunk, they would have wiped me off the planet, and no one would have known until morning. Twice, semis came pretty darned close to hitting the guardrail with me on the other side.
My search was desperate. I went perhaps five feet at a time, checking every place I could. Plants in the median caught my dress. Other flora scratched my ankles. My feet sometimes struggled as the median’s wet terrain sank under my steps. But I had to find that key.
I found a lot of things that weren’t the key. I discovered a complete animal skeleton, minus a head, and large enough to be mistaken for a small person. The bones suddenly appearing in the light of my phone was such a shock that I bolted, fight-or-flight style. I came across perhaps a half-dozen more dead animals, their fur and skin still intact. I also found a broken iPhone, two Android phone cases, a garage door opener, toys, empty cigarette cartons, and countless empty liquor bottles. There were also innumerable chunks of rubber shed from semi-truck tires. I was frequently excited by the sight of something black and fob-shaped on the ground, only to have excitement replaced by crushing disappointment when it was just another hunk of tread from one of 18 wheels.
After what felt like forever’s worth of time, I made it to and past the area where I heard the thump and did not find the key. I considered taking another walk through the median, but a construction worker saw me and flagged down the state trooper who was protecting the highway works site.
I explained everything that had happened to the state trooper, and he felt so bad for me that he didn’t even talk about how illegal it was for me to be walking the median. He just wanted to get me somewhere safe and cleaned out the front seat of his cruiser for me to ride in. He confirmed my fear, too. There was nothing he could do but take me to a hotel. So, he did that.
As we pulled up to the hotel, I asked him if he could go back to the truck and turn off the hazards so the battery wouldn’t drain. He recommended that I get an Uber to take me back to the truck, remove my valuables from the truck, and then have the Uber take me back to the hotel.
Not Giving Up Yet
Getting Uber to drop me off on an Interstate was quite difficult. The app doesn’t permit drop-offs on highways, so the app ended up choosing a random address that was technically next to the F-350. When the Uber got there, I explained the situation. I then got into a debate with the nice man behind the wheel about dropping me off into a dangerous situation and how he wasn’t able to do that. Eventually, I got through by telling him that if he got me to the Ford, he would be helping me salvage what was left of one of the worst nights of my life.
He reluctantly agreed to take me to the truck and got me there, but sped off the second I closed the door behind me. I had offered to pay him more to get me back to the hotel, but he wasn’t having it.
Once I got to the truck, I decided to try something different. I called up Ford Roadside Assistance, and a kind man tried to keep me calm even though I was freaking out and fraying at my ends. First, he walked me through an attempt to pair the truck to the FordPass app on my phone. If successful, the app might have been able to give me temporary emergency control of the truck’s ignition. At the very least, I might be able to close the windows and the sunroof.
This was unsuccessful because a previous journalist had already paired their phone to the truck. The only way to add a new phone to the truck would be to delete the previous phone, which you can do only if you have the fob on you. Next, the Ford Roadside Assistance rep attempted to call two Ford dealership service departments in Hawai’i, which were known to have some staff still around at the time he called. Unfortunately, neither dealership answered the phone.
Left without any real option, Ford Roadside then tried to get me a tow truck. I waited for perhaps an hour as the Ford Roadside guy called around. There wasn’t any wait music or anything, so most of the time I had no idea if he was even still there anymore. Hopelessness slowly crept in as I sat on the side of the highway, unable to change the situation that I had caused.
Eventually, the voice crackled back onto my phone speaker, and I could tell that the man on the phone was disappointed. Ford Roadside said that because I was in a dually truck, he couldn’t find a single tow company with the equipment to save me that night. He said the best he could do was have a tow truck dispatched out there by 8 a.m. the next morning.
Unfortunately, it was around this time that I felt a raindrop hit my head. Panic joined back in with the hopelessness as I cried out to the Ford Roadside rep that it was beginning to rain and, as we had established earlier in the call, the truck was bricked. The only advice the fella was able to give me was to fashion some sort of makeshift tarp out of the vehicle’s floor mats.
As it happened, I did bring wood boards to help load the car onto the U-Haul trailer and I also had a blanket, too. I used the boards to create a structure over the sunroof opening. Then I draped the blanket over the opening, securing it by slamming fabric into the truck’s doors. Then, I layered all of the truck’s floor mats on top. It was janky, it wasn’t weatherproof, but it was better than nothing, I guess. Then, on the advice of Ford Roadside, I closed up the truck and got out of there.
Rock Bottom
As if my night wasn’t hard enough, I couldn’t convince Uber to pick me up off the side of the highway. So, I went back into the median. I then proceeded to do my stupid search all over again, but this time with a little rain making things extra miserable. Once I reached the construction site, another Maryland state trooper found me, got me off the highway, and into the relative safety of their cruiser.
This officer saw I was at the end of my rope and tried to distract me by talking about cars. Through him, I found out that Maryland often buys the slowest cop cars out there, with some cruisers topping out at only 130 mph. The ride to the hotel turned into an impromptu ride-along as we came across a lady driving a Lexus GX on a bare wheel. Our “chase” went no faster than 28 mph, and, conveniently, she pulled off the road in front of the hotel.
By now it was 2 a.m., or about four hours after I lost the key. I was exhausted, I was depressed, and I was beaten. I thought of myself as an idiot and as a failure. All I had to do was put the key in the truck. Now, I caused one of my worst nightmares. I continued beating myself up as I struggled to fall asleep that night.
I’m not sure if there’s a moral or a lesson for me to give to you here. I mean, I learned a lesson and I learned it the hard way. I’m not sure I will ever forget that night or the asinine behavior I displayed in just a few hours. But if I can find some sort of piece of advice, it’s probably that you should never let that key fob out of your sight. Maybe put a tracker on it if you have to. But absolutely don’t put it on top of your vehicle. Also, walking the median could result in the loss of your life, so don’t do that, either.
Somehow, I wasn’t done causing myself misery yet, but that’s going to be a story for next week.
Top graphic images: Mercedes Streeter; depositphotos.com
Oh, gee…
I use the outdoor climbing clamp to hook the keys to my belt loop or to the loop in my messenger bag. When I am at home, I put the clamp on the door handle as to remind me to take the keys before going out. To this day, I have never misplaced the keys or been accidentally locked out of home.
I think Ford press department should have made sure that pairing was deleted before handing the key fobs to the next journalist. That would save you a lot of nightmare.
Same for me, keys belongs to the carabineer, and the barabineer belongs to the left side belt holder with the keys more or less in the front left pocket. (real climbing carabineer that’s due to wonky spring is not safe enough anymore to be used in climbing… so got relagated to key holder)
It’s been that way for decades…
It can be annoying at time (like last week where I had the rented car keyfob, the keys and parking door control for my mother home, and the camping barrier command I was in on top of my home keys, it was quite bulky and a nuisance at time)
Shoot, Mercedes, you were only a half hour from my house. I would have come get you…
Others have probably said similar things but I’m not going to read four entire pages of comments to find out, but here are my takeaways:
That all said, I get the motivation here. I once dropped my phone on a mountain bike ride and it fell in such a way that it ended up propped against the back side of a sign, where you basically could not see it from any reasonable angle. I drove an hour and a half home, used find my phone to determine that it was still on the trail, not picked up by a passerby, then downloaded local maps to an old phone so I could navigate to the exact location.
Mind you, by this time it’s 10 PM, but my phone battery is rapidly dying thanks to my GPS app still running, and I was hoping I could use my smart watch to help find it (as it turns out the watch was completely useless, but I didn’t know that). If the battery died I was only going to have my eyeballs to assist in the search. I drove the hour and a half back up there, arriving just before midnight. The park closed at 10, so I was technically trespassing and had to park outside a closed gate near a busy road. I was certain I would come back to a ticket, but if I found my phone I figured it was worth it.
After over an hour of stomping through every inch of the woods next to the trail I finally found the phone. One of the greatest feelings I’ve had in recent memory. Importantly though, I hadn’t put myself in any physical danger to get it.
I’m surprised the truck started with the key outside of the vehicle so I went and tried it with my Audi…. Still started with the key sat on the cowl.
My car definately knows the second the key leaves the car, but I’m interested to see if I could start it – I’m definately going to try.
I remember the first keyless ignition car anyone I knew owned was when my buddy’s mom got a new car in 2007 or so. I can’t remember what kind of car it was. But the first thing we did was obviously test if you could drive away without the key, which it did without hesitation.
yeah mine definitely know if you even just walk around the vehicle. It will say something about key not in vehicle, but I guess the cowl is close enough for it to think its inside
That stinks. Glad it all worked out.
Also, this is a good story to back up my SOP, always place your phone, watch, wallet and keys in the same spot, every day. I have a mental protocol for home and if I have to stay elsewhere whether a hotel, rental, etc. You should be able to get up in pitch dark, grab your stuff and go without thought. Same goes for when you are driving, keep to your normal practice to avoid this kind of thing. I just had to deal with this earlier this week. My wife lost her key fob at work. I had to drive in with a spare key and by the time I arrived, just finally located it. It happens to her all the time at home with her phone and keys. This type of story should be enough to scare someone straight and just pay attention.
This works well when you don’t have a wife or family member that feels they have to move your stuff, or “put it away” for you.
Tragic story but it made for an engaging read!
The key fob for my Focus ST and it stays in my jeans pocket, only place it gets laid down is on the TV stand when I get home. So far so good with that system.
Ironically it’s not a terrible idea to put the key fob in the vehicle, if the vehicle detects the fob inside it won’t let you lock the doors. But you never know I suppose.
It’s easy to say now but yeah don’t lay anything important down on the vehicle if you’re distracted. Coffee cup, keys, phone. While loading stuff into my car I laid my phone on my roof and then drove 2 miles to town. I didn’t notice anything because the phone was still paired to the car. Then when I parked I was looking for my phone and thought I must have left it home. Then I realized it was paired to the car and I found it on the roof, the rubberized case edges and it laying face down luckily kept it from slipping off.
Honestly the only stupid thing you did was eating disgusting Lido pizza when there were any number of amazing crab cakes to be had.
I would not trust a single crab cake that far west. Hagerstown‽
“That far west”? Hagerstown is like an hour from the coast. 😀
I wish I had known you were coming through Hagerstown. I live near there and I would have been happy to help you out. I’m sure my wife would have loved meeting you and we have a comfortable guest room. You guys should consider making a (nonpublic) directory of members so you have a reference of additional resources when doing these road trips.
Mercedes – I and at least one other commenter are in the general vicinity of where this nightmare occurred. There should be a profile checkbox for “it’s ok to look up my address and email me if an Autopian writer is in trouble near my house” or something like that!
Can’t wait for Part 2.
Can I ask why you got a round-trip trailer rather than getting a one-way from Baltimore?
Depending on how long your trip is, it’s can be cheaper to do a ‘local’ rental over a one way, and sometimes you can’t get a one way but can get a local.
I know that for a 2 day trip (one day there, one day back) it’s usually cheaper to get the trailer as a local rental.
The only time I generally rent one way is if I’m going to look at a vehicle I don’t know if I’m going to buy. I’ve found people don’t negotiate as much when you have a rental trailer with you, as they assume since you paid for the rental you’ll probably buy the car at the asking price. But I’ll have the reservation made so if I do buy I’ll have the trailer available.
The rental companies sometimes need to shift their products from one area to other so they have to hire a group of “professionals” to drive the vans and trucks, which cost more money. At times, they would advertise the discount for one-way moving.
We sometimes ask the rental companies if they have any cars that need to be sent to the destination we want to go. Half of times, they have something for us and don’t charge the steep fee for dropping off in different states.
Sounds like a terrible experience.
I had something similar happen to me this winter, after my wallet/house/truck keys flew out of my snowmobile glovebox on the way back from town.
I had just stopped and spent an hour helping an older couple who had gotten their 90s short-track sleds buried in 3ft snow drifts, with 18” of water beneath. My feet were drenched to the knee, and it was now dark, closing in on -20°. I was convinced I’d lost my items in the acre of watery mess while I’d helped to drag with my machine. I spent what felt like an eternity wandering around on the ice by the light of my machine’s headlamp and my phone, wading in knee-deep water, my legs turning to unfeeling stumps. Eventually I gave up, and rode back to the cabin.
After I’d eaten and warmed up, I slowly retraced my route back to town, several kilometres to where a section of whoops had developed where the trail hit the frozen lake. Thankfully after a half hour of carefully kicking snow, I found my Carhart hip/shoulder pouch. If not for the flotation of the larger fabric pouch, I’m certain those items would have been irretrievably buried in the snow under the sled traffic.
I don’t care about your gender identity, if you’re the sort of person who misplaces things like me, (and even if you’re not, you’d be surprised how much energy you spend keeping track of things) consider carrying your essentials in some sort of pouch, satchel or purse. It has saved my bacon a few times in the last few years, and I can’t recommend it enough. My grandfather did it, my uncle does it, and I am carrying on the tradition. Man purse for life.
Damn, that’s all kinds of bad luck. After this story I have a new appreciation of how the Odyssey handles the keyless by being annoying as hell. If the key as much as it passes the rocker panel on the outside of the car it will beep like crazy if the engine is still running. Also, can’t start the car if the key is just outside of the car, it has to be inside for the car to start. I have not tried to have the key on the cowl above the steering column and see what happens, but might as well try it tonight.
This was physically uncomfortable to read because this is a situation I could definitely see myself getting into. So relieved that you’re alive and (hopefully) not in six-figure debt as a result of this hellride.
Back in the ’90s i had an SR250G as my sole transportation in eastern Florida. Something happened to the ignition switch lock cylinder (I no longer remember what exactly) but the key wasn’t really needed to start/run the bike anymore and the cylinder just spun in the lock.
One day on I-95 south of Jacksonville, I hit a bump and the keys (bike, apartment, workplace keys) went flying. I saw it happen and was able to stop, and even found the keys pretty quickly, but they were laying in the middle of the right lane. Yes, I waited for a break in traffic and scurried out to grab them when I thought it was “safe” to do so.
Sometimes I wonder how I survived my youth.
Hey, nobody got hurt. Could be way worse. Sometimes when things just keep getting more ridiculous you just have to laugh at everything.
I once swapped wheels on my S6 and blasted them on with an impact, but didn’t torque them. I was going 60 in a construction zone with no shoulder when I realized the ‘wobble’ I felt was one of my wheels about to fall of. I had some tools with me, but did I bring the lug bolt key with me? No other barry, I did not. So then I’m on the side of the road trying to tighten the lug bolts WITH MY FINGERS, tried driving another minute before I felt the wobble again, and stopped only to find 2 of my lug bolts have left the chat.
I spent 20 minutes walking back on the highway in a construction zone and somehow magically found both of my lug bolts, and magically one of my buddies saw me, pulled over, and just HAPPENED to have a lug bolt key with him that fit my wheels. Life is bizarre.
One time I found THREE lug bolts off of a GTI who didn’t torque them before a rallycross. Saw them all from my own driver’s seat. Extremely lucky day for that guy.
Glad you are OK, but I have something similar, just much less risky. My wife has a new Audi, and I needed to run into Costco, so me driving, I get out to go into Costco with the key in my pocket, after dropping myself off at the entrance, in a fire lane.
There is a poor cell signal in the building, so it’s 15 minutes, before I notice my wife has called me 5 times, because she can’t move the car with out the key, and people are yelling at her.
There is a great reason for having a physical key that needs to be in the ignition.