Off and Running!

Greetings from Wendover, Utah! This crazy trip of mine finally began at 10:05 this morning. I spent the last week in a mad rush trying to accomplish all the things I hoped to do before I left. Why on earth I decided starting some major landscaping projects was a good idea two weeks before leaving on a long road trip, I’ll never know. But I got them mostly done, got the sprinklers working (fingers crossed), got the car packed (only forgetting one thing that I know of), and made it to Utah on only three hours of sleep. Not too bad for a first day.

I can’t promise a scintillating narrative of this trip - having neither the skill as a writer nor the likelihood of amazing adventures on this mostly I-80 mad dash across the country – but I would like those of you watching over this journey to know where I am and where I hope to be. Thank you for being my guardian angels.

This morning started out reasonably well. I got off within an hour of my ideal time, which isn’t bad considering the minimal sleep I had. But I was only twenty-five minutes up the road when I suddenly feared I forgot to put my new running shoes in the car. The fancy new running shoes I bought especially for this trip. I pulled over immediately and discovered that those fancy running shoes are nestled safely in their box somewhere in my garage. I almost turned around to get them but had to acknowledge that the idea of starting to run on this trip may not become a reality. And if it does, I have some less fancy but perfectly serviceable shoes that I did remember to pack.

I didn’t stop again until Truckee, CA, for my second latte of the day. Winding my way through the Sierras was beautiful – still plenty of snow on the ground. Once I hit Nevada, I had several hair-raising minutes of thread-the-needle driving. The single lane going east had construction barriers on both sides, with very little clearance. It seemed like several miles of “Please God, don’t let me drift to either side” but in reality was probably no more than a mile. I was very happy when the lane opened up again.

There is a certain rhythm that tends to develop on a long road trip, but it takes awhile to find it. You figure out where things should be in the car by discovering how inconveniently they are placed to begin with. I made several frustrating attempts to open my mini cooler while driving in order to grab some celery sticks. Eventually I reorganized the front seat area, so now I can munch to my heart’s content. I also put a little bit of water in a bowl for Toby in the back seat while stopped at a rest area and then forgot to empty it before driving away. Happily, the spill was minimal. Toby is slowly finding his own rhythm. It took him 2½ hours before he would finally lie down. He spent the beginning of the trip standing, mostly on my duffle bag, which was a rather precarious perch. Eventually, the drive wore him down and he moved into dejected dog mode. I’m hoping for some canine version of a Zen state, where the journey is all. I fear I might be disappointed. Time will tell.

Speaking of rest areas, so far they are pretty unimpressive. Seventy miles past Reno, I stopped at possibly the worst one I’ve seen in my life. The row of chemical toilets was very poorly maintained. The smell as you approached was overwhelming as was the sight greeting me when I entered the first one. Someone missed the toilet and I’m not talking a wet floor here. The entire site was gravel – not a plant in sight nor any running water. But I did meet a kindred spirit there. Beverly was walking her dog as well. She left Napa this morning and is New Jersey bound. Perhaps we will meet again en route. Her friends think she’s a bit crazy for doing the drive alone. She doesn’t see what the big deal is. As I said, kindred spirits …

About 250 miles from Reno, I stopped at another rest area, which was much nicer to look at but deserted. I hoped to sit for a bit and figure out some motel options for the evening, but when a trucker pulled up I hustled Toby back to the car. Somehow, it was just a little too scary being there all alone.

I originally hoped to make it to Salt Lake City this evening, and I take great pride in pushing myself when I drive. But the lack of sleep started getting to me, so I conceded defeat and pulled over in Wells, Nevada at 5:37, an obscenely early hour for me. When I asked if a room was available, I was told yes but that the entire town would be without power from midnight until eight the next morning. The desk clerk advised me to drive another sixty miles or so. What are the odds of that?! So I got back in the car, cranked up the music and indulged in a little bit of car dancing to revive myself. It worked and here I am, just over the border in Utah.

Some highlights of the drive: a lone dust devil in the sage brush, some amazing rock formations along the freeway, incredible snowy vistas, and the stark beauty that one often finds in the high desert. I discovered that Springsteen music is perfect for this landscape and that McDonalds makes a pretty good southwestern salad. And finally, while not highlights, I discovered that hitchhiking is prohibited in the vicinity of a prison (three of which I passed today), that dogs should be given a bath before you take them on a long road trip, and that it is pretty difficult to take good photos while driving eighty miles an hour.



Total mileage for the day: 509.2
Total time in the car: 8.5 hours
Destination tomorrow: Cheyenne, Wyoming at a minimum but ideally somewhere in Nebraska.