The bright side of a Moon
I’m home. Drove over 800 miles yesterday. I’ve had the bare minimum amount of sleep (5 hours) to feel partially human again. I’m cursed – no matter how late I’m up the night before, I can’t sleep in later than 7:00-7:30a. I guess this is payback for all those years I was able to sleep in ’til 1:00-2:00p.
Updates later. Go look at the rest of my pictures.
I’ll explain this one later, too.
Left Fallon, NV around 10:00 AM. I don’t know. It’s kind of a blur. I remember stopping at the Safeway in town, wandering the aisles trying to find a liter bottle of water and an energy bar for breakfast. I wanted to conserve calories because I’ve been over-eating like crazy, and I wanted to stem the guilt I knew I’d feel when I got to Vegas and gorged on a delicious buffet. Frustrating, then, to not immediately find that cold liter of water, and there didn’t seem to be an energy bar in the entire store. Plus, some dude cut in line in front of me at the in-store Starbucks and that was the last straw. I left Fallon hungry and thirsty.
The next town, though, was on the other side of the Walker River Paiute Reservation, 40 miles away, in a town called Schurz.
I discovered that the Malibu loses its breath over 100 MPH. Or maybe it was the heat; it never dropped below 95 all day yesterday, on my 386 mile blast down US-95 through the Nevada desert.
But around 70-85 MPH, it did just fine. Don’t look at me like that – the speed limit is 70 for most of that stretch, and I used the cruise control to my advantage, setting it about 9 MPH over the speed limit, and pushing it only when I was passing. I slowed to the speed limit when driving through towns (which caused some frustration for those behind me, but, whatever). I saw at least three folk pulled over by state troopers, and saw several more cops just out ‘n’ about, but I did not get pulled over. I’m either lucky or doing something right. I prefer the latter.
I wanted to take some pictures of the amazing mountains and desert but I’m disappointed in my camera. Sure it takes decent snapshots but I want something more. The scenes will have to live in my memory: the coyote panting in the shade of a guard rail; the burro tied up to a sign advertising burro rides; the half-dozen legal brothels I passed, each one just a collection of trailers set off the main highway, with friendly signs proclaiming their wares; or, of course, the natural colors, gray, brown, red, yellow, of the mountains.
Everywhere I saw those mountains, I was reminded of the tail-fin inspired mountains in Pixar’s “Cars”. I became Lightning McQueen. Every semi-truck I passed was Mack. I kept hoping to see “Doc” Hudson pacing me, taunting me…
In Schurz, I stopped to get water, but the store was sold out, except for gallon bottles. Hard to drink from a gallon bottle while driving. I bought a 7-Up and some beef jerky. As I was pulling out of the parking lot, I glanced to my left and saw an ancient, almost toothless old man, eyes hidden behind thick prescription glasses, so shrunken and shriveled and tanned to within an inch of being actual leather, his head barely rising above the windowsill of the car in which he sat.
When he saw me, his mouth opened into a wide, but empty, grin, and he waved wildly. I smiled and waved back.
There’s so little to tell of the rest of the drive. I got gasoline ($3.19/gallon for regular unleaded) in Beatty, where it was 110° F and I was afraid I’d literally burst into flame. And I drove. And I didn’t detour or otherwise stop unless I had to.
Around 4:20 PM, I entered Clark County. Shortly after, I could see the top of the Stratosphere at the edge of the horizon. I’ve been to the top – the very top – several times.
I tried the Rio first, because I had a thought to see two of my intellectual heroes, Penn & Teller, perform. Rio was sold out – at least to a walk-in without a reservation. I tried the Riviera next. Also sold out, but the lady at the counter suggested I use the house phone to reach reservations and try that way. I did try, but the phone voice mail hell literally ran me in circles and I gave up. I walked to the Vegas Hilton – also sold out.
So that’s why I ended up at the Motel 6, on the second story facing the airport, in a non-smoking room that smells heavily of cigarette smoke. Shortly after dragging my stuff in and getting on the (pay) internet, the couple next door started going at it. Loudly. Hey, that’s the kind of free entertainment one does not get in the fancy-schmancy hotels on the Strip, or even downtown! And luckily it was the kind of sex that turns me on…
After showering off the road and changing, I drove to the self-parking at the Mirage, parked the car, and wandered around. So many people, even late on a Sunday night. Not Times Square crowded, but close. And all the amazing people-watching… tourists from all over. I kept expecting to run into anyone I knew, but that didn’t happen. I kept hoping to run into someone famous, but that didn’t happen.
What did happen, you ask? Come on, now, you know the rule: What happens in Vegas… stays in Vegas.
I've been to the top.
Yesterday was mostly a blur. After checking out of my motel (and having to go back because I’d left my atlas in my room – what is it with me forgetting my map? Oh, and the maid lied to me and tried to keep it but I spotted it on her cleaning cart), I pointed my car (what I thought was) east to find Crater Lake.
20 minutes later I realized that the sun was in the wrong part of the sky and turned around. Didn’t lose too much time.
The drive along scenic route 138 (the Rogue-Umpqua Scenic Byway) was fun driving. The Malibu is a fun car to drive – who’d’ve thunk it? It’s in need of a slight alignment because I had to correct for steering a bit, but it had enough power to make passing a pleasure and not a fright. Best I did was just touching 100 MPH (indicated) on a fairly straight uphill section. Maybe I can do better in the desert today on my blast down to Vegas…
Crater Lake was awesome. I got some pictures (I just dropped them in that gallery – haven’t had a chance to make ’em pretty or weed out the bad ones)… but I didn’t stay too long. The cafe wasn’t open, and I didn’t want to wait to eat in the lodge. Flirted with the girl at the gift shop where I bought a bottle of water and a shot glass (I collect those). Or maybe she flirted with me – she caught me looking at her while I was waiting in line and she smiled back at me and asked me if I needed help with anything. She was cute – a Latina. Her nametag read “Eda”. Ah, if only I hadn’t been in a hurry…
Then I drove hard south, along Klamath Lake to Klamath Falls. Road trip rules: no corporate food. So I stopped at a diner called Blondie’s that bragged about their homemade buns. I ordered the smaller cheeseburger (1/4 lb) because I seriously wanted to watch what I’m eating on this trip. Imagine my surprise when the woman dropped a burger the size of my skull on the table, along with enough fries to feed a small South American village.
After lunch I tried to find some wifi but the only coffee shop within walking distance I could find that had it (after asking around and looking very much like a tourist) was closing in 15 minutes. “Seriously? You’re closing in 15 minutes?” The woman confirmed that and seemed puzzled by my shock. I guess I’m weird for thinking that closing at 3 PM on a Saturday afternoon is strange. Maybe she had a hot date?
But I had enough wifi to check my route, and I texted Tracy to tell her that if I drove straight through I could be in Vegas that night! What I didn’t know at the time was that I had mis-Googled. I was 5 hours away from Reno, not Las Vegas. I have no explanation for that – wasn’t that tired, full stomach, plenty of coffee in me. I must have been in a hurry because the shop was closing.
It was in the 80s in K-Falls, and for the rest of the day – including the night time – the temperature never dropped below 79° F that I could see. Yeah, it’s hot, and it’s only going to get hotter as I head south through the freakin’ desert.
In Alturas I stopped for gas ($3.39/gallon for regular unleaded) and snacks and realized that there was no way I’d be in Vegas unless I drove all night. I didn’t want to drive all night, so I decided to stop around Reno.
In Reno I realized that I don’t really like Reno and, after applying some more caffeine, I kept going for a bit. I finally got a room in Fallon, NV.
I still have 386 miles to go – assuming I hit the road in the next hour, don’t make any detours, and just stop for meals, I’ll see the shiny lights of Sin City around 6 PM. So… probably later than that, because I like making detours and eating.
I ordered the SMALL one! They're proud of their homemade buns.
Strictly burgers at Blondie's.
Since I didn’t leave town until almost 5p, I’m not calling that my first full day. It’s Day 0.5.
My home to Roseburg, OR is 183 miles.
Picked up the car a bit early, 3:30p or so. The kid behind the counter was new, and showed it. Every little step of the transaction got a confused look from him. Swiped my AmEx – confused. Clicking through the screens on his computer – confused. Figuring out what car they had set aside for me – confused. I was patient and didn’t bug him about it, and in the end, he realized that the whole thing was taking far too long, so he upgraded me from my Toyota-Corolla-or-similar to a ’07 Malibu, in a cool dark gray color. Nice. I thought the gas milage would suck, but so far I’ve used less than a half-tank. I’ll be fine.
When I tossed my luggage in the trunk, O.B. remarked, “You look like you’re runnin’ away from home!” Maybe I am, O.B. Maybe I am.
Which thought explains why I was a bit embarrassed when, after my last go-through in the apartment to make sure I hadn’t forgotten anything, as I was literally walking out the door to leave, iPod in hand, I ran smack into Kevin, smiling like he caught me. Well, he did catch me as I was leaving. He said he’d been on his way home from work, saw that my front door was open, and took a chance. We caught up, I showed off the rental, I invited him along. He couldn’t go. Or, he could but there’d be Hell to pay when he got home to the wife and kids. I understood and was amused. As I quickly told the story of my last road trip to Vegas, I realized that I had forgotten my road atlas. Thanks, Kevin, for delaying me just long enough to remember that handy item. Maybe things do happen for a reason after all…
Traffic on I205 southbound past Oregon City was exactly what would be expected for 5p Friday before a virtual holiday weekend. Ugh. It didn’t really clear up and start moving until past Wilsonville. I didn’t start my music until then. I played 3 full albums on Day 0.5:
.
Stopped in Eugene for dinner. I could’ve sworn that one of the waitresses was staring at me. Might’ve been my bald head and the fact that I was eating alone, both of which made me stand out. Lots of couples and families in there. The waitress was cute, too – curly brown hair and a round happy face. Even though she wasn’t my original waitress, she took the initiative to refill my drink, and get me my check. Flirting? Or was she just filling in for the other girl, who I did not see after she took my order?
I checked Google Maps at a coffee shop (delicious Dutch apple pie, yum) near where I parked the car, and saw that I could detour to see Crater Lake National Park. That would mean turning off of I5 at Roseburg. I decided Roseburg was far enough for the first half-day, seeing that it was already after 9p, and would be another hour and a half or more down the road. I got disoriented and pulled off the road in Sutherlin, saw that there was no room available at the hotel there, and kept going. Got a text from Tracy asking how I was doing. I replied but figured she was already asleep by then.
Three different motels did not have a sign visible from the highway or street indicating whether or not they had a vacancy. That seems wrong. Or maybe I was tired. At the last full one, a Best Western, the lady behind the counter started to tell me that there wasn’t a bed to be had in town, then, reluctantly, said, “You can try the one just down that way. It looks just like this one; it’s called America’s Best Value Inn.”
Sure enough, it was laid out exactly like the previous one. Same blueprints. I felt an entirely understandable deja vu driving into the courtyard. Unlike the Best Western, this one’s office was closed so I had to ring a bell at the night window. Down the stairs behind me walked a beauty in blue jeans, brown eyes and red hair, and she greeted me warmly and stepped into the office. “Sure, I’ll sell you a single,” she said. I wanted to ask her if I could stay with her instead, but the ring on her “alert” finger dissuaded me.
I crashed quickly, after trying to set the alarm for 8a. The digital readout was broken. When the alarm went off in the morning, and I got up to check my email (the motel offered free internet (at least I hope it’s free! Haven’t checked out yet) if you provided a Cat5 cable) I found that it was actually 6a. Oh, well, I was awake already.
Dressed for a run. Decided I’d run away from the motel for 15 minutes then turned around. 10 minutes along, I saw a sign for “Gaddis Park” so I took that street, past the oil tanks, and found five baseball diamonds, with bleachers for each. A paved trail ran around the park so I continued along it, still running, and found myself down by the river (the Umpqua? The Willamette?) and passing underneath the freeway back to the other side. Through a small woods, then past a huge fenced-off field. Shortly I spotted a huge, old, 2-story brick mansion on the other side of the field, and shortly after that the field became a golf course. Then I popped out back by the freeway overpass by which my motel sat. And then I showered and posted this.
More to come…
Ready to go!
Rain and gray on my way out of town.
So it turns out that blogging from my phone is quite easy. I can send texts and pictures and have Blogger publish them with ease. So y’all don’t have to bookmark a new page just yet.
But I’m still going to use Twitter, and I may send some pictures or videos to my T*Mobile gallery. But it’s all going to be duplicated here, on my main blog.
I love technology.
