February 13th, 2005 Sunday night, about 6:50 PM Mountain Time Phoenix, AZ David and Cassandra's House
So, this trip, the UNIMOG, a disaster. Two and a half days of grinding, howling, engine noise. Freezing. Floods.
Wait. Too soon. I'll back up.
I arrive in Albequerque just fine. Like, the plane didn't explode. Which I appreciate. As a bonus to surviving my flight, a woman who I was admiring from afar in the Denver airport, who I was *admiring*, approches me at the baggage claim and calls me adorable. and tells me whenever I'm in LA to give her a call She then gives me her card. A great beginning of a trip, I think. A rather auspicious sign, I reckon.
About two minutes later, the fantasy begins to slip away, like my willpower in the cereal aisle at Safeway. With a handshake, I meet the German outside with the goatee and smart tan. he is a semi-car-salesman-type. We drive back to his building, exchanging the standard dialogue, and scripted pleasantries employed in this particular man-act of long distance vehicle trading.
Long story short, my UNIMOG is not exactly as described, but I'm a very good sport about it. Always with the cool head and reasonable beyond reproach. Plus, my plane ticket was one way only, and I'm now 1800 miles from home. The adventure was now officially underway.
If I have learned anything from my travels, one should never stifle or otherwise abbreviate an adventure, much like a sneeze or other automatic bodily function.
And so, with only a tiny bit of trepidation, I was off and heading west again. nearly immediately, (on the freeway, on level ground) I break down. At least I was only running out of gas (gauge non-functioning). I switch tanks and I'm rolling once again. Full throttle, at maximum speed... 49 miles an hour. I feel good, excited. Thinking again about the woman at the airport, I smile. I begin to feel confident. So confident, even, I turn off of the big freeway, and onto (on my map, at least) what appears to be an only slightly less significant freeway. A shortcut to my destination for the evening, Phoenix. No sooner do I negotiate the off ramp to the smaller road when I in my vehicle, encounter a slight uphill grade and am forced to shift into a lower gear. Yielding about 30 miles per hour wound out full throttle, pedal to the floor. the noise in the cab is deafening. The engine threatens to come apart, fastener by fastener. Despite my slow speed, the canvas top flaps violently, just inches behind my skull.
About four hours later, I have travelled a hundred and ten miles from my start point. Barely over 25 miles per hour. Ouch. Not as planned. My ears are ringing, and fingers beginning to get numb from the cold Rocky Mountain air that has been passing freely through the unsealed cab. But, I tell myself, I can get a fresh start in the morning and grind all day, (or maybe just a few hours? There should be a downhill soon) and make it into Phoenix.
So when I freeze my ass off in the back of the truck, and I could go into more detail about broken battery terminals, disconnected heaters, uncomfortable "beds", but suffice it to say, it was not an entirely enjoyable evening.
Showing posts with label road trip. Show all posts
Showing posts with label road trip. Show all posts
Thursday, June 10, 2010
Sailboat Story Continued
May 18th, 2004
Day ---4?
Fayetteville, Arkansas
Almost Noontime, Central TZ
So here I am, on a front porch swing, just sitting, on my way to the boat.
Drove about 950 miles yesterday to arrive here around 12:30 AM or so, to be greeted to a little "party" type situation --
I like the uncomfortable awkward experiences. So here you go!
Within an hour I am doing lines of coke off Anna's bed with her brother, some other guy, and two semi-dimwitted coeds.
No one would be quiet or give a man his rest of course, but finally, 4 AM or such a pad was placed at the side of the bed, and after a small debate between Jone's siblings as to whether Xanax or some other drug I havent heard of may be more effective, and appropriate to my beginner status of medicance, tiny pills were supplied and a short time later I slept.
One visit to the restroom at night to drain (trying as hard as I could to be quiet, including bouncing my spray off the back of the bowl as to not splash(like at Willow's a few weeks before)), and up at an early 10 AM (well that's 8 AM Pacific!) Anna went out to look at a house or something so I sponged off, walked to find an espresso shed, bought my coffee, and returned.
Pacing a few moments later I began doing dishes, and unclogged the tub (producing with my thrusts, a plae, blue, nitrile glove, just one, that surfaced through a miasma of brown rusty water and tiny scraps of a plastic bag.) Cool. At least I fixed something today.
Did some curls, now catching up with some "writing" I like to. I would like to write more often. I always feel so pressed for time. No time. Will this all change soon??
So today my head is still cloudy, or foggy, or whatever. Well hang out here today, and push off for New Orleans tomorrow morning. I should be off my boat by Saturday or Sunday at the latest.
GOOD NEWS!
I've gone almost four days with nothing to eat but beef jerky and Altoid sours. Can this be the new diet craze? I don't even feel hungry, and the pounds seem to just be melting away. Also, other than a beer last night, no drinking either. I hope the whites of my eyes become white again soon. See we shall. Ok, off to go look at Pinzgauers and shoot turtles.
May 21? 04 Saturday afternoon, 5:20 PM Eastern
I'm on my boat. This is probably the biggest vehicle I will ever own. 55 feet. I hear the sloshing whisper of the water against "her" sides.
Oh, the boat -
So, after the dude I bought the boat from didn' show or call me back for about an hour this morning, I was convinced I was an Ebay victim to the tune of $7900 (plus expenses so far) but he called, and I unloaded my gun. Not long after, I boarded the boat.
I got depressed.
This is probably too much work for me. Rotton these. Seized those. Fucking church boat. Dingy looks like shit too. $1100 for THAT? Fuck YOU! But. No matter what, I bought a sail boat sight unseen, and drove cross country 4200 miles to board the fucker. Yep. So I was very upset and depressed for about 5 hours, now I am beginning to like it.
Fuck these people, I like the boat, though. Too bad it can't move. I've bonked my head several times already, pumped a monster shit out of the "head". Where does it go? Will stroke, next on the list, - and will try to stay here all day tomorrow. I'm having my first drink in several days and will follow that up with some "nighty-nights".
Next day, on the boat. Almost 5 PM EST
Suffice it to say, I hate boats. At least I found out I had a total complete meltdown today. I would have left if my money and computer and other shit weren't on my boat.
I had to row the dingy to shore. (The guy I bought it from kept the engine as a result of one of my most near-sighted bargaining episodes (the boat was only a mile from shore and I felt I could use the exercise of rowing)).
Then drove my crippled Range Rover around looking for the internet cafe. I finally found one. The sign said "Open At Noon". I waited until 1 PM. Not open. During this monstrous display of submission, I also finally decided to eat. I went to three restaurants, and was not served in as prompt or timely a manner as I feel entitled to (No, really). So I showed them, and just up and left, Zak-style.
Shitty service down here, remember to tell everyone. Entirely annoyed, finally, I just wanted to row back (Oh, I lost an ore somehow in the dingy earlier, so I bought two more and oar locks)to the big boat, get drunk, and eat some stuff (Just discovered Cuban sandwiches, and had wine, cheese, turkey, and apples. The flood gates had opened.) I put the new oars in, (I also had two bags of rapidly melting ice). Started trying to row, and the oar locks kept popping out of their holes. Not my fault (really). Boat is fucked.) Managed to row about 60 feet from dock, lost an oar lock, and had to paddle back in with only one oar like some raging, off-kilter, Jewish, Pocahantas. By the time I returned to the dock, my Cuban sandwich was drifting sadly about in the bottom of my boat, bumping against apples, bottles of liquor, the final remnants of ice, before sinking, defeated, to the bottom of the boat.
Then, I, determinely ram my dingy into the dock and begin to tie up I have yet, another, old lady, walk up and remind me to come to the hot dog feed at 2:00. I now realize, I can't row out to my boat, I'm stuck. Range Rover is broken, its HOT, I want to drive home, but all my money and stuff is on the big boat, (which at that very moment, decided to resell on Ebay). It is at this time I recieved a call from Kalee. She called me from Eugene. 4,000 miles away, to let me know she has a flat tire and ask me what she should do.
FUCK.
I lost it. I'm screaming how I hate it here, I hate boats, Fuck all these people. Fuck a hot dog. All this in the parking lot with the locals about. I start punching my car, I throw what's left of my bags of ice across the parking lot, screaming, a single word over and over again. Fuck. I am not a boat person. At least I found out, right? Let's say you;re on your boat and you want some batteries, or an apple, or a plastic bag? A huge ordeal to get to shore. And hopefully, when you return to shore, your car works, and has a suspension, and stuff, an, fuck. I still have a 4,002 mile drive home. I'll take my time on the way back though, see some shit, go to a swamp?
Avoid Arkansas.
Final thought. Next stop, sell boat, buy 911 or?? Go to Mexico for a while. Live in LA. Ride my bike 1000 miles somewhere, or walk it? Thanks.
Day ---4?
Fayetteville, Arkansas
Almost Noontime, Central TZ
So here I am, on a front porch swing, just sitting, on my way to the boat.
Drove about 950 miles yesterday to arrive here around 12:30 AM or so, to be greeted to a little "party" type situation --
I like the uncomfortable awkward experiences. So here you go!
Within an hour I am doing lines of coke off Anna's bed with her brother, some other guy, and two semi-dimwitted coeds.
No one would be quiet or give a man his rest of course, but finally, 4 AM or such a pad was placed at the side of the bed, and after a small debate between Jone's siblings as to whether Xanax or some other drug I havent heard of may be more effective, and appropriate to my beginner status of medicance, tiny pills were supplied and a short time later I slept.
One visit to the restroom at night to drain (trying as hard as I could to be quiet, including bouncing my spray off the back of the bowl as to not splash(like at Willow's a few weeks before)), and up at an early 10 AM (well that's 8 AM Pacific!) Anna went out to look at a house or something so I sponged off, walked to find an espresso shed, bought my coffee, and returned.
Pacing a few moments later I began doing dishes, and unclogged the tub (producing with my thrusts, a plae, blue, nitrile glove, just one, that surfaced through a miasma of brown rusty water and tiny scraps of a plastic bag.) Cool. At least I fixed something today.
Did some curls, now catching up with some "writing" I like to. I would like to write more often. I always feel so pressed for time. No time. Will this all change soon??
So today my head is still cloudy, or foggy, or whatever. Well hang out here today, and push off for New Orleans tomorrow morning. I should be off my boat by Saturday or Sunday at the latest.
GOOD NEWS!
I've gone almost four days with nothing to eat but beef jerky and Altoid sours. Can this be the new diet craze? I don't even feel hungry, and the pounds seem to just be melting away. Also, other than a beer last night, no drinking either. I hope the whites of my eyes become white again soon. See we shall. Ok, off to go look at Pinzgauers and shoot turtles.
May 21? 04 Saturday afternoon, 5:20 PM Eastern
I'm on my boat. This is probably the biggest vehicle I will ever own. 55 feet. I hear the sloshing whisper of the water against "her" sides.
Oh, the boat -
So, after the dude I bought the boat from didn' show or call me back for about an hour this morning, I was convinced I was an Ebay victim to the tune of $7900 (plus expenses so far) but he called, and I unloaded my gun. Not long after, I boarded the boat.
I got depressed.
This is probably too much work for me. Rotton these. Seized those. Fucking church boat. Dingy looks like shit too. $1100 for THAT? Fuck YOU! But. No matter what, I bought a sail boat sight unseen, and drove cross country 4200 miles to board the fucker. Yep. So I was very upset and depressed for about 5 hours, now I am beginning to like it.
Fuck these people, I like the boat, though. Too bad it can't move. I've bonked my head several times already, pumped a monster shit out of the "head". Where does it go? Will stroke, next on the list, - and will try to stay here all day tomorrow. I'm having my first drink in several days and will follow that up with some "nighty-nights".
Next day, on the boat. Almost 5 PM EST
Suffice it to say, I hate boats. At least I found out I had a total complete meltdown today. I would have left if my money and computer and other shit weren't on my boat.
I had to row the dingy to shore. (The guy I bought it from kept the engine as a result of one of my most near-sighted bargaining episodes (the boat was only a mile from shore and I felt I could use the exercise of rowing)).
Then drove my crippled Range Rover around looking for the internet cafe. I finally found one. The sign said "Open At Noon". I waited until 1 PM. Not open. During this monstrous display of submission, I also finally decided to eat. I went to three restaurants, and was not served in as prompt or timely a manner as I feel entitled to (No, really). So I showed them, and just up and left, Zak-style.
Shitty service down here, remember to tell everyone. Entirely annoyed, finally, I just wanted to row back (Oh, I lost an ore somehow in the dingy earlier, so I bought two more and oar locks)to the big boat, get drunk, and eat some stuff (Just discovered Cuban sandwiches, and had wine, cheese, turkey, and apples. The flood gates had opened.) I put the new oars in, (I also had two bags of rapidly melting ice). Started trying to row, and the oar locks kept popping out of their holes. Not my fault (really). Boat is fucked.) Managed to row about 60 feet from dock, lost an oar lock, and had to paddle back in with only one oar like some raging, off-kilter, Jewish, Pocahantas. By the time I returned to the dock, my Cuban sandwich was drifting sadly about in the bottom of my boat, bumping against apples, bottles of liquor, the final remnants of ice, before sinking, defeated, to the bottom of the boat.
Then, I, determinely ram my dingy into the dock and begin to tie up I have yet, another, old lady, walk up and remind me to come to the hot dog feed at 2:00. I now realize, I can't row out to my boat, I'm stuck. Range Rover is broken, its HOT, I want to drive home, but all my money and stuff is on the big boat, (which at that very moment, decided to resell on Ebay). It is at this time I recieved a call from Kalee. She called me from Eugene. 4,000 miles away, to let me know she has a flat tire and ask me what she should do.
FUCK.
I lost it. I'm screaming how I hate it here, I hate boats, Fuck all these people. Fuck a hot dog. All this in the parking lot with the locals about. I start punching my car, I throw what's left of my bags of ice across the parking lot, screaming, a single word over and over again. Fuck. I am not a boat person. At least I found out, right? Let's say you;re on your boat and you want some batteries, or an apple, or a plastic bag? A huge ordeal to get to shore. And hopefully, when you return to shore, your car works, and has a suspension, and stuff, an, fuck. I still have a 4,002 mile drive home. I'll take my time on the way back though, see some shit, go to a swamp?
Avoid Arkansas.
Final thought. Next stop, sell boat, buy 911 or?? Go to Mexico for a while. Live in LA. Ride my bike 1000 miles somewhere, or walk it? Thanks.
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