 I have a big enough ego to think you'll all be thrilled to pieces as I gripe about driving out to Seattle again. first of all, stay out of Louisiana. not only do the roads suck, but it made me feel like Ned Beatty in Deliverance. (well, not really-but I half expected to run into banjo boy)
Armed with my Powerbook and Quickcam, I've attached a gif of myself sitting in the moving van when I stopped at a rest area in Pensacola yesterday. I had the cam on the dash hoping to take pictures as I drove, but the sun is just too damn bright...so, you're stuck with me after 6 cups of southern interstate java...all the caffeine without any of that coffee taste. OK, so did anything interesting happen yet? I bought a coke tonight and the machine gave me an extra 5 cents change. I went to the men's room at a rest area in mississippi and all the sinks, toilets and hand dryers were automatically turned on by human movement. (I guess they don't trust where peoples hands have been, and I don't blame them). Oh yeah, a wood-chewing trucker talking to his good buddy referred to me as a "long-haired jewelry faggot" in Louisiana. As I washed my hands calmly, I replayed scenes from Natural Born Killers in my head. I listened to Rush Limbaugh for 3 hours today on am radio. There's been lots of good preacher radio all through the south, and the public access cable station here in San Antonio is too good for words. Next time I travel, I'm going to bring a camcorder, a tape deck, and a small firearm so I too can shoot holes in signs along I-10. more later after I get out of Texas... Wednesday was spent through Arizona's 110+ temperatures ending up in Blythe, CA right on the border. I had to pull over for California Border Patrol dudes so they could see what sort of items I had inside the moving van...this decided after they found out this truck was coming from Florida. I guess they just wanted to make sure I wasn't bringing exotic fruit and cocaine from the Sunshine State. I was smacked with the realization that I was no longer in the south and that I was definitely in California. I walked to the Sizzlers across the street to get a chicken-like sandwich thing. The waitress was about 20 years old and her name was "Happiness."
Today I hung out in a Bakersfield Comfort Inn motel room until the truck was fixed. Headed out, listened to G. Gordon Liddy while I drove, and tonight I'm in some place about 60 miles north of Sacramento...there's one little grocery store here that carries more beer and adult mags/movies than food. Although I've been here before, California has been the most enjoyable state so far on this trip. The food has been excellent, there are an unusually high number of attractive people everywhere I go, and the fact that it is not located in the southeast are all good things. |
Tonight I'm in San Antonio, Texas. what a lovely place indeed. I ordered a pizza when I checked in at the Deluxe Super 8 Motel. Can you spell Tombstone? I'm convinced the poor sap who delivered this tomatoe-flavored saltine is making his living by buying frozen pizzas and baking them at home in his wife's self-cleaning oven. What a sport. I gave him a 2 dollar tip and told him to go buy a pack of camels.
Yesterday was spent travelling across southern CA and up through Los Angeles to Bakersfield. I was hoping to make it to Sacramento, but after L.A. there are some really gigantic mountains to come down when going north. To keep the truck from going out of control, the speed had to be maintained at 35 mph. Shortly afterwards, the brakes went on the truck in the middle of an intersection. Luckily, the truck eventually stopped and I had Ryder's roadside people come out and have a look. The verdict - there are no brake pads left on the front tires and the rotor is cracked. The mechanic says, "you're lucky you made it down the mountain."