Saturday, 7:30 AM
Only four hours to go.
Phoenix is huge, much larger than I expected. At one point downtown the freeway turns into a tunnel a mile long with eight lanes in one direction. I’ll find out today if there are eight going the other way. It took forever to get to my hotel last night.
One hazard yesterday was that, after renting a car for a day, there was a period of adjustment back to my trusty U. I started off with civilian motorist moves: rapid lane changes, hair pin turns at 65, cutting drivers off. Then I realized I couldn’t do that. It’s not being able to see behind you that’s the biggest concern. I still don’t believe what I see in those side mirrors. Plus when you throw it in reverse 20 feet comes up on you awfully quickly.
I’m happy to report that early slow speeds I experienced became more normal after Missouri. The first day was kind of a learning curve, I couldn’t go too fast because I wasn’t sure of myself. The second day there were many inclines in the Ozarks that slowed me down.
But after the Miracle in Miami the route was pretty flat and I got that fucker up to 70-75. At times I did 80 which is difficult because you physically have to push that pedal hard. Not easy to sustain. Plus the floor board gets so hot, I’ve taken to using the cheap lotions in the hotels to constantly moisturize my feet. I think the same plastic surgeon who advertises in the Palm Springs Airport for vaginal rejuvenation also does a pedi-peel. Will look into that.
I couldn’t have done it without my trusty travel companion Whitey and my fifth of Sky vodka. (Note bene: there’s still half of if left for tonight’s celebration.) And of course there was my inner-cab, inter-faith altar.
The base was the inverted antebellum chair that amused the mover kids in Fort Wayne so much. I thought it should be upfront because it was so delicate. Like the driver.
I covered it with a bed sheet that was blessed by the Holy Father. He used it in a sleep over with an altar boy which I’m pretty sure counts as a blessing. To that I added: an Eiffel Tower from my Fort Wayne Christmas collection; an elf boot from Santa Claus, IN; a coon skin cap from Elk City, OK; an inspirational truck stop t-shirt form Deaf Smith County, Texas; and a salt lamp from Keams Canyon, AZ.
As with any voyage it’s all about the treasures along the way. Tangible and intangible.
Previous: Walter Whitey’s ABQ
For the complete travelogue see On the Odyssey Road
For the complete eviction saga, From the Beginning
One thought on “Permission to Approach?”
ITS SMOOTH SAILING FROM HERE ON….HAPPY HOME COMING