recap of trips (tl;dr)
So. Umbilical has been officially severed. I now no longer live in the same state as either of my parents. While the father has been AWOL for a considerable amount of time, the mother decided that she should help her parents out in their detrimental health. My grandfather has been falling apart and an exponential rate recently, requiring massive amounts of drugs and dialysis three times a week has left him physically weak and with paper thin skin that split open with the slightest touch. Apparently it's a trick to get him out of bed without him splitting his elbows open. This is shocking for the rough and tumble desert dwelling mustachioed cowboy I remember, but time is a bitch that demands more alimony than she's due.
The move entailed packing all my mum's shit into storage. Then packing those bare necessities into her tiny Nissan, and driving our asses to Banning CA. (Which for those without the wherewithal to Google is about a half hour from palm springs.) With planned stoppages at an aunt's place in Portland and a hotel in a hopeful Sacramento.
Plans be fucked. On Friday I am told that we are leaving at 12 noon and to meet the mother at her beau's place near in Seatac where I can drop off the vehicle at a parking lot and be completely comp'd as per his connections. I am also told that I should recover some items that were left at the old apartment in Sammamish. The items in question were at least two boxes full of random toiletries and cleaning supplies and two bicycles that had been locked together. With the key thrown out. I loaded and threw away as much as I could, but it still left me with a full trunk, one backseat occupado, and a pair of Siamese bikes. Considering this was at 9:00 AM, I didn't give up attempting the non-euclidean Tetris and leave until 11:30, bikes abandoned for later retrieval. Leaving now for the aforementioned boyfriends place, I called to get directions.
They were wrong.
I spent an hour or so looking for a turn that did not, in fact, exist. Frustrated, I found some side arterial in Tukwila/Seatac to call and ask for more details. It was not as "side" as I thought and eventually had a copper discover my brilliant hideaway on the street. Quickly I pulled myself over, but was not pursued. The chase ended, and appropriate directions begotten, I headed for the rendezvous around 1:30, hoping the day will pick up speed.
It didn't.
The mother had pack more things into her tiny modern Nissan sedan that would allow a passenger. This oversight was attempting to be corrected, but I had happened to bring more things. After attempting to explain the benefits of just "burning all her shit" I then decided that the stuff will remain in my car, and I will deal with it and the one bike I required. This was acceptable. We then left to the parking lot I was supposed to leave my vehicle for four days.
After getting lost, we found the lot, parked Bruno, my car, and crammed myself into the passengers seat with a cooler, and a teapot between my feet, and an empty litter box with a potted spider vine in it on my lap. Needless to say, I was not comfortable. We hit the road around 3:00. (compare quickly to the 12:00 time frame discussed earlier.) Looking for a jiffy lube in which to get the oil changed. None to be found, we set off looking for trouble along I-5.
Around 3:30 we received a call.
It was from Robert, the mum's boyfriend. She had forgotten to leave the key to the storage unit to stow the leftovers at his tiny apartment. Balls. We detoured to Fife, waited an half hour to meet him, then continued on our merry way. Timing was shit but be damned if we didn't make it to Portland.
And that we did.
We stayed the night at the aunt's place. The sister and niece came up so it was a regular fucking family reunion. My sister at one point yelled at me for playing the aunt's mandolin like a guitar. Yay happy times. We made a deal to wake early and leave at eight.
HA!
At eight o'clock my mother woke me. After rousing the plan was laid out thusly: We were to go to the nearest urgent care where mum could treat a bladder infection. (I know TMI but pertinent in regards to long road trips.) I was to change the oils in the car while this was happening. Then we would leave. Break!
Again, HA!
I dropped mum off at Kaiser, which is actually a health care provider, not a German dictator. I ran to the changer of oils, and sped out of there equally as fast. Free time had, I stopped long enough to grab myself a DS and some games. I then parked at the hospital and entertained myself and the cat (with whom we have brought but was none too pertinent to the story in his drug fueled fugue. My mother, returned and we attempted to go on our merry way.
Except the car wouldn't start.
I had left the lights on. To go on the defensive, the car left me no indication that they were on, and I only waited an hour and a half, tops. We attempted to flag someone down for a jump, but everyone seemed to be entering the building, not leaving. Eventually, there was a kind young lass who should have sported a red cape, but settled for a hoodie, that gave us a jolt. With thanks we were on our way, stopping frequently for restroom breaks due to foul humors. It was 2:00 PM.
We made it to Yreka.
Just south of the California/Oregon border. I was in foreign territory. I needed a beer.
We had cheap WiFi, so I plugged the old laptop in to see if the world had collapsed. It hadn't, but I still needed a beer. I took the car and hopped down to the nearest thing that advertised liquor. As this was the Californias, it was a grocery store, and if I was feeling perky, I could have bought anything from bourbon to vodka. But no. Beer. I pulled into the parking lot, finding a snug spot next to a big penis compensating truck. It was too large for the spot, and exiting the Nissan, I managed to tap the door on the wheel-well of the the dick truck. Too bad the dick was also present. I quickly mouthed an apology through his window as his gaze shot tire-irons. I ducked quickly to the store, sparing one glance to observe him investgating the damage to the plastic insert on his wheel-well. Quickly I snagged my beer. I was then accosted by the large cashier. She was from Washington. Which part was I from? Seattle Area? She was born and raised in Tri-cities. She looked like it.
I didn't actually say that. I just grimaced and payed for my beverage.
I drank that liter or so of Sierra Nevada Pale Ale faster than was good for me. At least I fell asleep. We woke at five in the morning. On the road by five forty. Greasy denny's breakfast at 9 or 10.
There is nothing in the I-5 corridor but cow dung and grass.
We made it to the Grandparents house by 4:30. That was over 800 miles in less than 12 hours. The cat was still unhappy.
I flew back the next day. I remember how much I like flying. At least taking off and landing. The middle part is pretty, but uneventful. Exhausting. Still exhausted.
The move entailed packing all my mum's shit into storage. Then packing those bare necessities into her tiny Nissan, and driving our asses to Banning CA. (Which for those without the wherewithal to Google is about a half hour from palm springs.) With planned stoppages at an aunt's place in Portland and a hotel in a hopeful Sacramento.
Plans be fucked. On Friday I am told that we are leaving at 12 noon and to meet the mother at her beau's place near in Seatac where I can drop off the vehicle at a parking lot and be completely comp'd as per his connections. I am also told that I should recover some items that were left at the old apartment in Sammamish. The items in question were at least two boxes full of random toiletries and cleaning supplies and two bicycles that had been locked together. With the key thrown out. I loaded and threw away as much as I could, but it still left me with a full trunk, one backseat occupado, and a pair of Siamese bikes. Considering this was at 9:00 AM, I didn't give up attempting the non-euclidean Tetris and leave until 11:30, bikes abandoned for later retrieval. Leaving now for the aforementioned boyfriends place, I called to get directions.
They were wrong.
I spent an hour or so looking for a turn that did not, in fact, exist. Frustrated, I found some side arterial in Tukwila/Seatac to call and ask for more details. It was not as "side" as I thought and eventually had a copper discover my brilliant hideaway on the street. Quickly I pulled myself over, but was not pursued. The chase ended, and appropriate directions begotten, I headed for the rendezvous around 1:30, hoping the day will pick up speed.
It didn't.
The mother had pack more things into her tiny modern Nissan sedan that would allow a passenger. This oversight was attempting to be corrected, but I had happened to bring more things. After attempting to explain the benefits of just "burning all her shit" I then decided that the stuff will remain in my car, and I will deal with it and the one bike I required. This was acceptable. We then left to the parking lot I was supposed to leave my vehicle for four days.
After getting lost, we found the lot, parked Bruno, my car, and crammed myself into the passengers seat with a cooler, and a teapot between my feet, and an empty litter box with a potted spider vine in it on my lap. Needless to say, I was not comfortable. We hit the road around 3:00. (compare quickly to the 12:00 time frame discussed earlier.) Looking for a jiffy lube in which to get the oil changed. None to be found, we set off looking for trouble along I-5.
Around 3:30 we received a call.
It was from Robert, the mum's boyfriend. She had forgotten to leave the key to the storage unit to stow the leftovers at his tiny apartment. Balls. We detoured to Fife, waited an half hour to meet him, then continued on our merry way. Timing was shit but be damned if we didn't make it to Portland.
And that we did.
We stayed the night at the aunt's place. The sister and niece came up so it was a regular fucking family reunion. My sister at one point yelled at me for playing the aunt's mandolin like a guitar. Yay happy times. We made a deal to wake early and leave at eight.
HA!
At eight o'clock my mother woke me. After rousing the plan was laid out thusly: We were to go to the nearest urgent care where mum could treat a bladder infection. (I know TMI but pertinent in regards to long road trips.) I was to change the oils in the car while this was happening. Then we would leave. Break!
Again, HA!
I dropped mum off at Kaiser, which is actually a health care provider, not a German dictator. I ran to the changer of oils, and sped out of there equally as fast. Free time had, I stopped long enough to grab myself a DS and some games. I then parked at the hospital and entertained myself and the cat (with whom we have brought but was none too pertinent to the story in his drug fueled fugue. My mother, returned and we attempted to go on our merry way.
Except the car wouldn't start.
I had left the lights on. To go on the defensive, the car left me no indication that they were on, and I only waited an hour and a half, tops. We attempted to flag someone down for a jump, but everyone seemed to be entering the building, not leaving. Eventually, there was a kind young lass who should have sported a red cape, but settled for a hoodie, that gave us a jolt. With thanks we were on our way, stopping frequently for restroom breaks due to foul humors. It was 2:00 PM.
We made it to Yreka.
Just south of the California/Oregon border. I was in foreign territory. I needed a beer.
We had cheap WiFi, so I plugged the old laptop in to see if the world had collapsed. It hadn't, but I still needed a beer. I took the car and hopped down to the nearest thing that advertised liquor. As this was the Californias, it was a grocery store, and if I was feeling perky, I could have bought anything from bourbon to vodka. But no. Beer. I pulled into the parking lot, finding a snug spot next to a big penis compensating truck. It was too large for the spot, and exiting the Nissan, I managed to tap the door on the wheel-well of the the dick truck. Too bad the dick was also present. I quickly mouthed an apology through his window as his gaze shot tire-irons. I ducked quickly to the store, sparing one glance to observe him investgating the damage to the plastic insert on his wheel-well. Quickly I snagged my beer. I was then accosted by the large cashier. She was from Washington. Which part was I from? Seattle Area? She was born and raised in Tri-cities. She looked like it.
I didn't actually say that. I just grimaced and payed for my beverage.
I drank that liter or so of Sierra Nevada Pale Ale faster than was good for me. At least I fell asleep. We woke at five in the morning. On the road by five forty. Greasy denny's breakfast at 9 or 10.
There is nothing in the I-5 corridor but cow dung and grass.
We made it to the Grandparents house by 4:30. That was over 800 miles in less than 12 hours. The cat was still unhappy.
I flew back the next day. I remember how much I like flying. At least taking off and landing. The middle part is pretty, but uneventful. Exhausting. Still exhausted.