The Trip, part 3...
Back to the tale...
Saturday dawns, as every Saturday should, bright, sunny, same wet nose attached to happy bundle of dog. We're up a bit earlier today, things must be done, so that we can get on the road at a reasonable hour. Thankfully, we had done much of the work the night before, so much less was left. Some packing by both of us, a few more loads of laundry, and general straightening so the house would be in good shape for guests. We worked well together, alternating between boring tasks and things a bit more interesting... and a few phone calls to the respective beloveds. One of them, from Cap's true blue, gave us cause for pause. We could, if we drove straight through, get home by 10:30 the next morning. What?! Was it possible? Did we want to do that? The initial thought was no, and we continued with the final preparations.
At 1 pm, that bright and shining Saturday, we hit the road running. A short trip to the shore near her house, to show off her lake, and then it began. My second ferry trip, getting us back to the mainland, passed uneventfully. I didn't look back, only forward. We punched in the first planned stop of the night - somewhere in Sacramento - and took off. Me, wielding a spiffy digi-cam, her driving through Seattle-Tacoma traffic, pointing out sights. The Space Needle, Mount Rainier, Mount Shasta, Mount St. Helens. And almost all the mountains looked alike, except for St. Helens... the divit in her side a reminder that Mother Nature has patience with those beings residing on her planet, but only so much. Ok, Mt. Rainier, or Reindeer as we were wont to call it, had a LOT of snow on it. Holy... it was hot up there, and the mountain looked like Christmas was around the corner!
Washington passed beneath our tires relatively easily, and we slid into Oregon going about 75. Which was immediately reduced to 60 for no good reason that we could see. Ever. The drivers quickly gained a new title... which went on to become something of a curse after a while... tree huggers. *laughs softly* I have nothing against hugging a tree, I've been known to hug them now and again... but it worked as a way to let off steam while driving down a two lane highway with a bunch of tourists acting like they were in the Rose Bowl Parade. Then there's the whole 'Left Lane for Passing Only' thing. Excuse me? The left lane is for blowing the doors off of anyone else who isn't treating the freeway as it should be treated - the American Autobahn. Ok, so maybe I have a thing for speed. Ok, ok... I do have a thing for speed. Give me a fast car and a clear road, and I'm gone.
*sighs* So, we puttered through Oregon. Ok, it was a bit faster than that, but not much. Now, a couple of things, should you ever wander through that fine state. 1 - Oregon takes about 4-5 hours to get through. 2 - You can't pump your own gas there. We met a nice gas jockey, name of Jack I believe, who gave us a quick rundown of his life history as he pumped our gas. He wasn't apologetic or down, just seemed like a happy enough guy, pumping gas, and being friendly. We should all be so lucky, I think. He never got tree hugger status, unlike most of the folks we drove by on the freeway.
It's starting to get dark by now, about 8:30 or so... we're getting close to California, and decide that Sacramento is our target. We search for hotels, find one on the far side, and barrel on down the road. Into a mountain range. At night. With me driving. Is this bad, you ask? All I'm going to say is... ask Cap. The dog slept through most of it. My knuckles were white, but we made Sacramento without a scratch. Had some interesting conversations as well to keep us awake, but those are for another time, another blog. Suffice to say, Denzel, I'm yours baby, if you're ever looking. *grins* Of course, once in Sacramento, a police car nearly creamed us, all the inns were full, and by gosh, there wasn't even a stable in sight! Turns out, there had been a fairly horrific crash on the freeway that backed everything up so much, the folks had gone to hotels. All of them. We decided to try the next town. Then the next. And so it went, until, at about 5 am, we found a likely rest area. A final walk for the ever patient Frankie, then we locked the doors to catch a couple hours of rest. Two hours later, we were back on the road... And so it continues.
Day 1 driving - 16 hours, including stops. Entertainment value - massive (tree huggers!) Cost of living off fast food - $50, give or take, including burgers for the dog. Bonding time with your best friend - priceless.
Tune in for the next installment - same bat time, same bat channel...
Saturday dawns, as every Saturday should, bright, sunny, same wet nose attached to happy bundle of dog. We're up a bit earlier today, things must be done, so that we can get on the road at a reasonable hour. Thankfully, we had done much of the work the night before, so much less was left. Some packing by both of us, a few more loads of laundry, and general straightening so the house would be in good shape for guests. We worked well together, alternating between boring tasks and things a bit more interesting... and a few phone calls to the respective beloveds. One of them, from Cap's true blue, gave us cause for pause. We could, if we drove straight through, get home by 10:30 the next morning. What?! Was it possible? Did we want to do that? The initial thought was no, and we continued with the final preparations.
At 1 pm, that bright and shining Saturday, we hit the road running. A short trip to the shore near her house, to show off her lake, and then it began. My second ferry trip, getting us back to the mainland, passed uneventfully. I didn't look back, only forward. We punched in the first planned stop of the night - somewhere in Sacramento - and took off. Me, wielding a spiffy digi-cam, her driving through Seattle-Tacoma traffic, pointing out sights. The Space Needle, Mount Rainier, Mount Shasta, Mount St. Helens. And almost all the mountains looked alike, except for St. Helens... the divit in her side a reminder that Mother Nature has patience with those beings residing on her planet, but only so much. Ok, Mt. Rainier, or Reindeer as we were wont to call it, had a LOT of snow on it. Holy... it was hot up there, and the mountain looked like Christmas was around the corner!
Washington passed beneath our tires relatively easily, and we slid into Oregon going about 75. Which was immediately reduced to 60 for no good reason that we could see. Ever. The drivers quickly gained a new title... which went on to become something of a curse after a while... tree huggers. *laughs softly* I have nothing against hugging a tree, I've been known to hug them now and again... but it worked as a way to let off steam while driving down a two lane highway with a bunch of tourists acting like they were in the Rose Bowl Parade. Then there's the whole 'Left Lane for Passing Only' thing. Excuse me? The left lane is for blowing the doors off of anyone else who isn't treating the freeway as it should be treated - the American Autobahn. Ok, so maybe I have a thing for speed. Ok, ok... I do have a thing for speed. Give me a fast car and a clear road, and I'm gone.
*sighs* So, we puttered through Oregon. Ok, it was a bit faster than that, but not much. Now, a couple of things, should you ever wander through that fine state. 1 - Oregon takes about 4-5 hours to get through. 2 - You can't pump your own gas there. We met a nice gas jockey, name of Jack I believe, who gave us a quick rundown of his life history as he pumped our gas. He wasn't apologetic or down, just seemed like a happy enough guy, pumping gas, and being friendly. We should all be so lucky, I think. He never got tree hugger status, unlike most of the folks we drove by on the freeway.
It's starting to get dark by now, about 8:30 or so... we're getting close to California, and decide that Sacramento is our target. We search for hotels, find one on the far side, and barrel on down the road. Into a mountain range. At night. With me driving. Is this bad, you ask? All I'm going to say is... ask Cap. The dog slept through most of it. My knuckles were white, but we made Sacramento without a scratch. Had some interesting conversations as well to keep us awake, but those are for another time, another blog. Suffice to say, Denzel, I'm yours baby, if you're ever looking. *grins* Of course, once in Sacramento, a police car nearly creamed us, all the inns were full, and by gosh, there wasn't even a stable in sight! Turns out, there had been a fairly horrific crash on the freeway that backed everything up so much, the folks had gone to hotels. All of them. We decided to try the next town. Then the next. And so it went, until, at about 5 am, we found a likely rest area. A final walk for the ever patient Frankie, then we locked the doors to catch a couple hours of rest. Two hours later, we were back on the road... And so it continues.
Day 1 driving - 16 hours, including stops. Entertainment value - massive (tree huggers!) Cost of living off fast food - $50, give or take, including burgers for the dog. Bonding time with your best friend - priceless.
Tune in for the next installment - same bat time, same bat channel...
posted by AvianaBleu at 1:48 PM
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