we got in a car crash and died. The end.
We had a great vacation actually. The weather was perfect every day, the people and the food and the outdoors were all fantastic. I rode my first motorcycle, and gave Rachel a frightening ride around the block. I even got a bleeding blister on my big toe!
There was a little four-wheeling in the sand dunes and around the desert countryside and I got the flu and everything!
The worst part, easily, was the trip home. A few hours before we left my parent's house, I barfed so hard that the blood vessels in my eyelids burst. I spent the next 13 hours either in an airport, on a plane, or in a car feeling like crap. I'd call it the worst day of my life if Rachel weren't taking care of me. She was wonderful the whole time and did everything for me that I needed.
It was really nice to see my family even if it was only for a couple days. My dad gave me a rad gun and I can't wait to get it and shoot it some more here at home. I sighted it in and everything, so it shoots really well. I'm thinking of mounting a rack in the living room to put it on display. It's really a work of art with the engraving. Would make a great conversation piece.
And can I say how much I want a motorcycle right now? I'll have my car paid off next month, so I could easily finally have a bike this spring. I can't wait. I can't wait to pay off my car. How cool would that be?
Showing posts with label vacation. Show all posts
Showing posts with label vacation. Show all posts
Saturday, October 17, 2009
Sunday, October 11, 2009
Travel: Day 1
So, yesterday, Rachel and I flew and drove to Utah. We drove from our little town to Oklahoma City airport (by far the cheapest place for us to fly out of) and waited around for a few hours before our flight. The plane was delayed because of some ice buildup on the wings and we missed the connecting flight from Denver to Las Vegas. So we hit Denver and waited around in the cold for a few hours, then on to Vegas, where my parents and brother picked us up. We drove down the strip (very crowded on Saturday night) and then drove to St. George. Everyone collapsed to bed.
I'm not a big flyer. I do it so rarely I haven't gotten comfortable with it, so I had a nonstop adrenaline rush for about nine hours. I hate that feeling. Rachel was really good company and didn't get upset. We spent a ridiculous amount of money on Chinese food in the airport.
A few good things though. I managed to type out two chapters to my upcoming book while bored in the airport. I also got an awesome birthday present from my Dad. He engraved a beautiful wood rifle stock with Native American petroglyphic marks and my name. He's had the rifle since I was a little kid and I've always wanted it, and now it's all personalized for me. Can't wait to go sight it in.
A potentially bad thing: I may have requested the wrong days off at work. Well, at least one. I got a few calls from my boss last night asking if I planned to show up at work. I called him back and told him I was in Vegas, so, no, I would not be showing up. I'm positive that I was approved for vacation last night, but I don't have a copy of that record with me right now. I'll have to wait until I get home to see if I accidentally screwed up...
I'm not a big flyer. I do it so rarely I haven't gotten comfortable with it, so I had a nonstop adrenaline rush for about nine hours. I hate that feeling. Rachel was really good company and didn't get upset. We spent a ridiculous amount of money on Chinese food in the airport.
A few good things though. I managed to type out two chapters to my upcoming book while bored in the airport. I also got an awesome birthday present from my Dad. He engraved a beautiful wood rifle stock with Native American petroglyphic marks and my name. He's had the rifle since I was a little kid and I've always wanted it, and now it's all personalized for me. Can't wait to go sight it in.
A potentially bad thing: I may have requested the wrong days off at work. Well, at least one. I got a few calls from my boss last night asking if I planned to show up at work. I called him back and told him I was in Vegas, so, no, I would not be showing up. I'm positive that I was approved for vacation last night, but I don't have a copy of that record with me right now. I'll have to wait until I get home to see if I accidentally screwed up...
Saturday, May 30, 2009
Greetings from Bethany, Missouri
Up here at a wedding for Rachel's friend, Elizabeth. She was married yesterday at around 6ish PM in her In-Law's yard, underneath an off-white tent in front of 30 or so people. She looked fantastic in her white and red gown, and the groom, Nathan, looked quite nice himself, in the black/white/red three piece he had thrown on.
I've only been to three weddings in my life that I recall. I guess I played a gig for a reception once and I vaguely recall seeing something where an uncle of mine told me that "trumpet players make the best kissers" which my mother didn't approve of me hearing for some reason.
So, I remember my Mom's sister Louanne getting married, and my Dad's sister Jamie. But both of those celebrations occurred long ago and my memory is vague.
Today was an interesting experience for me. It was an Episcopalian service, and the Reverend/Minister/Priest guy was a really neat dude. Apparently, Elizabeth wants to go into the Seminary someday, so you can imagine how spiritual the wedding ceremony was.
I felt a little out of place there, for quite a few reasons, but I met some of Rachel's old friends and I think they're all really cool. I got to skip a couple days of work too. Overall I've had a great weekend so far. Looks like we'll get to repeat the whole process again next month for another friend, though, word on the street (read: Directly from the bride-to-be) has it that the next wedding I'll be at will be a little bigger. Closer to 150 people should be there.
I've learned a lot of new things about my psyche this weekend that I wouldn't have explored otherwise. It's been very eye-opening, yet on the other hand, I've thought of nearly as many questions that I can't answer right now. Perhaps that's the process of life at work. As soon as you answer two questions, three more pop up. It's how we grow and develop.
I've only been to three weddings in my life that I recall. I guess I played a gig for a reception once and I vaguely recall seeing something where an uncle of mine told me that "trumpet players make the best kissers" which my mother didn't approve of me hearing for some reason.
So, I remember my Mom's sister Louanne getting married, and my Dad's sister Jamie. But both of those celebrations occurred long ago and my memory is vague.
Today was an interesting experience for me. It was an Episcopalian service, and the Reverend/Minister/Priest guy was a really neat dude. Apparently, Elizabeth wants to go into the Seminary someday, so you can imagine how spiritual the wedding ceremony was.
I felt a little out of place there, for quite a few reasons, but I met some of Rachel's old friends and I think they're all really cool. I got to skip a couple days of work too. Overall I've had a great weekend so far. Looks like we'll get to repeat the whole process again next month for another friend, though, word on the street (read: Directly from the bride-to-be) has it that the next wedding I'll be at will be a little bigger. Closer to 150 people should be there.
I've learned a lot of new things about my psyche this weekend that I wouldn't have explored otherwise. It's been very eye-opening, yet on the other hand, I've thought of nearly as many questions that I can't answer right now. Perhaps that's the process of life at work. As soon as you answer two questions, three more pop up. It's how we grow and develop.
Thursday, April 2, 2009
PART 2 THE RECKONING
So, I woke up Thursday morning toward the end of my trip after a relatively nice nap. The weather outside was a bit windy and oddly cold for the time of year and geographic location, but nice regardless compared to 90% of the weather in Wyoming at any given time of the year.
I sat down to watch some morning news and beheld a foreboding broadcast. Twenty inches of snow forecasted in Denver. Nearly two feet in a 24 hour period. Two feet accumulating before and during the expected time I would be actually driving through Denver on Interstate Highway #70.
Curtis woke up a bit later and I greeted him with a semi-typical, "WE ARE GOING TO DIE TODAY" to which he replied, "The early morning death visions are a sign of your deteriorating condition and I think you forgot your meds." "Nay, brother," I exclaimed, "Look upon the news box and define what thine eyes might see!"
He watched the news for a bit and apologized for the comment regarding my deteriorating mental state. We discussed our options and decided that neither of us had ever been to New Mexico before. Since it was south in the warm part of the country, we could circumvent the snow and see new sights before getting home, and hey, we might save time too by avoiding road closures.
We packed up and left at 12:15 PM, then said goodbye to my mom at the gas station she manages while I filled up with fuel. She bought us drinks and reminded us to wear our seatbelts and then we were off.
We drove through Zion National Park.
Then down to I-40 whre we began our trip East.
Oh wait, no, we didn't. We got stuck in traffic just outside Winslow, Arizona. 14 miles to be exact, where traffic was at a standstill for seven straight miles due to some kind of accident ahead of us. It took two hours of turning off the engine, waiting around, starting it, then moving twenty feet just to repeat the process in order to travel seven miles. Seven. 7. Ciete (Spanish). Set (Questionably-spelled French). Seven.
And Winslow was jam packed with vehicles, so we didn't stop until Joseph City, where Curtis and I finally switched off. I slept for about two hours in the back seat while Curtis drove through an ice storm in Galup, New Mexico. I didn't realize this, otherwise, I wouldn't have slept.
I woke up just outside of Albuquerque where we stopped at the Indian Reservation. I took over driving again there where the weather was clear. On the west side of Albuquerque, the roads were clear and dry. On the east side, the roads had an inch of snow upon them. Thus began the next 8 STRAIGHT HOURS OF NON STOP SOLID ICE ON THE ROAD AND NOT A SINGLE MINUTE OF CLEAR SKY NOR A MOMENT OF PEACE FROM THE RAGING TORRENTS OF WIND THAT THREATENED TO PUSH ME STRAIGHT OFF THE SLICK PAVEMENT INTO A SNOW DRIFT BEYOND.
Let me try to recall what happened in some semblance of an order. Uh, I followed a Plow Truck for about 30 seconds before he himself crashed into the median where I promptly followed since I couldn't see the road (apparently, neither could he!). Luckily, I hit my brakes before I hit him, so I was able to continue my journey.
A few hours later, I was going up a hill where I saw two semi trucks stopped in both lanes ahead of me. I slowed down to gauge my decision regarding my next move, when the truck ahead of me tried to pull forward. Unfortunately, the road was so slick that he could not pull forward. In fact, he started sliding diagonally backwards and to the right when he spun his wheels. The truck behind me realized he couldn't stop if he wanted to avoid being stranded, so he went onto the relatively narrow shoulder to keep moving ahead and came roughly six inches from taking my side mirror clean off the driver's side door.
Since I was then stopped, I tried to move ahead and found that I could only spin my tires, so I spun them to a rate of about 40 mph in order to lazily slide to the left onto the shoulder to where I found traction and then continued my travel.
Later, in Toscanini? Tucanini? Something like that, New Mexico, the snow was then drifting onto the highway. It was about a foot high on the north side of the road. The highway was not closed. I paid particularly close attention to that fact as I drove onward, despite the fact that the wind was blowing so hard that I literally could not see my hood, let alone the street. Between gusts, I would accelerate to twenty miles per hour and go until the next gust, where I would stop and wait until it was safe again. (Pro tip: In harsh snow where city street lights reflect and scatter from snowflake to snowflake, it is actually easier to see the road if you turn your headlights off completely and rely on the faint yellow glow of the metropolis you are driving through, instead of having to squint through the heavy contrast caused by your headlights bouncing direct light into your eyes.)
8 hours after Albuquerque, we made it to Amarillo, Texas, where the snow was still blowing, drifting, and icing over the road. A few miles outside of Amarillo, we traded driving so I could hallucinate with my eyes closed instead of open and on the road (at one point I saw a giant robot smash a car ahead of me with his/her laser-drill fist). I slept for about an hour (according to Curtis, through another spontaneous ice storm.) and then woke up to the sweet smell of a McDonalds Big Mac. I took over driving again an hour north of Oklahoma City, Oklahoma.
The rest of the road was wet, but not icy. Total trip time coming home was 28 hours, almost on the dot. Trip time to Utah was 21 hours, again, almost on the dot. Gas mileage was worse coming home. First two tanks averaged between 37 and 39 mpg, and the second tank and a half averaged 30 to 33 mpg, as opposed to the solid 38-39 range going to Utah a few days before.
In conclusion, cars suck, the weather sucks, and I'm never driving that kind of idiotic retarded moronic drive in one straight shot in the unpredictable spring ever again in my life.
I sat down to watch some morning news and beheld a foreboding broadcast. Twenty inches of snow forecasted in Denver. Nearly two feet in a 24 hour period. Two feet accumulating before and during the expected time I would be actually driving through Denver on Interstate Highway #70.
Curtis woke up a bit later and I greeted him with a semi-typical, "WE ARE GOING TO DIE TODAY" to which he replied, "The early morning death visions are a sign of your deteriorating condition and I think you forgot your meds." "Nay, brother," I exclaimed, "Look upon the news box and define what thine eyes might see!"
He watched the news for a bit and apologized for the comment regarding my deteriorating mental state. We discussed our options and decided that neither of us had ever been to New Mexico before. Since it was south in the warm part of the country, we could circumvent the snow and see new sights before getting home, and hey, we might save time too by avoiding road closures.
We packed up and left at 12:15 PM, then said goodbye to my mom at the gas station she manages while I filled up with fuel. She bought us drinks and reminded us to wear our seatbelts and then we were off.
We drove through Zion National Park.
Then down to I-40 whre we began our trip East.
Oh wait, no, we didn't. We got stuck in traffic just outside Winslow, Arizona. 14 miles to be exact, where traffic was at a standstill for seven straight miles due to some kind of accident ahead of us. It took two hours of turning off the engine, waiting around, starting it, then moving twenty feet just to repeat the process in order to travel seven miles. Seven. 7. Ciete (Spanish). Set (Questionably-spelled French). Seven.
And Winslow was jam packed with vehicles, so we didn't stop until Joseph City, where Curtis and I finally switched off. I slept for about two hours in the back seat while Curtis drove through an ice storm in Galup, New Mexico. I didn't realize this, otherwise, I wouldn't have slept.
I woke up just outside of Albuquerque where we stopped at the Indian Reservation. I took over driving again there where the weather was clear. On the west side of Albuquerque, the roads were clear and dry. On the east side, the roads had an inch of snow upon them. Thus began the next 8 STRAIGHT HOURS OF NON STOP SOLID ICE ON THE ROAD AND NOT A SINGLE MINUTE OF CLEAR SKY NOR A MOMENT OF PEACE FROM THE RAGING TORRENTS OF WIND THAT THREATENED TO PUSH ME STRAIGHT OFF THE SLICK PAVEMENT INTO A SNOW DRIFT BEYOND.
Let me try to recall what happened in some semblance of an order. Uh, I followed a Plow Truck for about 30 seconds before he himself crashed into the median where I promptly followed since I couldn't see the road (apparently, neither could he!). Luckily, I hit my brakes before I hit him, so I was able to continue my journey.
A few hours later, I was going up a hill where I saw two semi trucks stopped in both lanes ahead of me. I slowed down to gauge my decision regarding my next move, when the truck ahead of me tried to pull forward. Unfortunately, the road was so slick that he could not pull forward. In fact, he started sliding diagonally backwards and to the right when he spun his wheels. The truck behind me realized he couldn't stop if he wanted to avoid being stranded, so he went onto the relatively narrow shoulder to keep moving ahead and came roughly six inches from taking my side mirror clean off the driver's side door.
Since I was then stopped, I tried to move ahead and found that I could only spin my tires, so I spun them to a rate of about 40 mph in order to lazily slide to the left onto the shoulder to where I found traction and then continued my travel.
Later, in Toscanini? Tucanini? Something like that, New Mexico, the snow was then drifting onto the highway. It was about a foot high on the north side of the road. The highway was not closed. I paid particularly close attention to that fact as I drove onward, despite the fact that the wind was blowing so hard that I literally could not see my hood, let alone the street. Between gusts, I would accelerate to twenty miles per hour and go until the next gust, where I would stop and wait until it was safe again. (Pro tip: In harsh snow where city street lights reflect and scatter from snowflake to snowflake, it is actually easier to see the road if you turn your headlights off completely and rely on the faint yellow glow of the metropolis you are driving through, instead of having to squint through the heavy contrast caused by your headlights bouncing direct light into your eyes.)
8 hours after Albuquerque, we made it to Amarillo, Texas, where the snow was still blowing, drifting, and icing over the road. A few miles outside of Amarillo, we traded driving so I could hallucinate with my eyes closed instead of open and on the road (at one point I saw a giant robot smash a car ahead of me with his/her laser-drill fist). I slept for about an hour (according to Curtis, through another spontaneous ice storm.) and then woke up to the sweet smell of a McDonalds Big Mac. I took over driving again an hour north of Oklahoma City, Oklahoma.
The rest of the road was wet, but not icy. Total trip time coming home was 28 hours, almost on the dot. Trip time to Utah was 21 hours, again, almost on the dot. Gas mileage was worse coming home. First two tanks averaged between 37 and 39 mpg, and the second tank and a half averaged 30 to 33 mpg, as opposed to the solid 38-39 range going to Utah a few days before.
In conclusion, cars suck, the weather sucks, and I'm never driving that kind of idiotic retarded moronic drive in one straight shot in the unpredictable spring ever again in my life.
Sunday, March 29, 2009
The Most Retarded Trip
Surprisingly, I am alive and well. I'm so surprised that I am actually wondering how I made it to today without so much as a scratch upon my delicate supple man-skin.
Where do I start? I put in for a vacation several weeks ago at work so I could see my family in Utah. Unfortunately, my older brother couldn't make it, but I got to see my parents and grandparents at least. It's been awhile, so it was worth it all.
Anyway, Sunday morning on the 22nd of March at 8:19 AM, Curtis and I were done packing and hopped in the car to make our trip. The Mapquest estimate was around 19 hours and we figured we could do it in one go, trading off periodically. We got a late start because Curtis spent the entire night looking for the car keys that I accidentally kept in my pocket. I ended up needing Rachel to pick me up from work so I could get home to produce viable engine-starting keys.
So, we had a two-hour delay there, but that wasn't a big deal. We took off on the drive, the very bumpy, vibratory drive. You see, my front passenger side rim is bent beyond repair, and caused the car to vibrate at roughly the rate of rotation. I would find out later that this vibration was not actually caused entirely by the rim damage, but from the rear wheels with axle damage causing the wheels to wear unevenly as if I locked up the wheels going 100 mph and wearing only one particular section of each wheel. Since the wheels were slightly different sizes due to their differing amounts of wear, the vibration came and went at regular intervals and moved from side to side... The car ride was bumpy, is what I'm saying.
We got through Kansas and most of Colorado with no incident. Curtis and I talked and sang songs and had a good time. I took a nap and then we got some gas. We did great on mileage, averaging around 39 mpg the whole way.
Then we got to the first mountain. My car couldn't handle the incline, so I did it all in 3rd gear, going about 30 mph the whole way to the summit, then rolling down the 8% grade in 4th gear to limit my speed to 60 so I didn't fly off the cliffs or crash into the car riding their brake the entire way just in front of me.
Then a deer headbutted my driver's side window. See, one jumped out in front of me, to which I replied, "OH CRAP OH CRAPOHCRAPCRAPCRAP!" I managed to avoid his delicious posterior and swerved slightly to continue on, when his little buddy decided to literally headbutt my window. I looked to the left to just catch his snout smearing snot and saliva across the glass pane. In my rear-view mirror I saw him trot off into the brush, satisfied with his stunt. He probably high-fived his buddy just out of sight.
So I checked my wheels again next time I got gas, and saw that the rear tires were wearing pretty fast. It was too late to get new ones at a tire store or at walmart, so I just decided to push forward. Curtis drove again and I tried to sleep, but I couldn't cause it was dark and we were climbing yet another mountain with cliffs and I just got a little nervous. We ended up in Grand Junction later than expected where we took a quick pee break and then continued to march forward. Onward ever onward.
We passed Green River, Utah with two gallons of gas left. The nearest gas station, which I didn't realize at the time, was about 100 miles away. We climbed yet another fricken' mountain, then saw that we would not make it to the safety of a few gallons of petroleum distillate. But glory be, the wafaring angels sang and behold, a sign appeared!
"GAS FOOD NEXT EXIT"
We pull off, rejoicing at our luck, then immediately cursing our fate...
"GAS 21 MILES NORTH"
Somehow, I've been blessed with extreme luck. You see, I have a 10 gallon gas tank in my Corolla. When we rolled in to Ferren, Utah, I somehow managed to put 10.24 gallons of Dubya Juice into the money hole of fuel.
Hour long detour there, 3 hours behind our normal schedule... Then another mountain to climb, while snowing. I hit the second worst snow storm of my life then, and managed to drive the rest of the way to St. George unable to see. Joy.
I passed 8 or 10 cars all parked, waiting out the storm. I just kept going.
Then we were in St. George.
Tune in next time for part 2. THE RECKONING!
Where do I start? I put in for a vacation several weeks ago at work so I could see my family in Utah. Unfortunately, my older brother couldn't make it, but I got to see my parents and grandparents at least. It's been awhile, so it was worth it all.
Anyway, Sunday morning on the 22nd of March at 8:19 AM, Curtis and I were done packing and hopped in the car to make our trip. The Mapquest estimate was around 19 hours and we figured we could do it in one go, trading off periodically. We got a late start because Curtis spent the entire night looking for the car keys that I accidentally kept in my pocket. I ended up needing Rachel to pick me up from work so I could get home to produce viable engine-starting keys.
So, we had a two-hour delay there, but that wasn't a big deal. We took off on the drive, the very bumpy, vibratory drive. You see, my front passenger side rim is bent beyond repair, and caused the car to vibrate at roughly the rate of rotation. I would find out later that this vibration was not actually caused entirely by the rim damage, but from the rear wheels with axle damage causing the wheels to wear unevenly as if I locked up the wheels going 100 mph and wearing only one particular section of each wheel. Since the wheels were slightly different sizes due to their differing amounts of wear, the vibration came and went at regular intervals and moved from side to side... The car ride was bumpy, is what I'm saying.
We got through Kansas and most of Colorado with no incident. Curtis and I talked and sang songs and had a good time. I took a nap and then we got some gas. We did great on mileage, averaging around 39 mpg the whole way.
Then we got to the first mountain. My car couldn't handle the incline, so I did it all in 3rd gear, going about 30 mph the whole way to the summit, then rolling down the 8% grade in 4th gear to limit my speed to 60 so I didn't fly off the cliffs or crash into the car riding their brake the entire way just in front of me.
Then a deer headbutted my driver's side window. See, one jumped out in front of me, to which I replied, "OH CRAP OH CRAPOHCRAPCRAPCRAP!" I managed to avoid his delicious posterior and swerved slightly to continue on, when his little buddy decided to literally headbutt my window. I looked to the left to just catch his snout smearing snot and saliva across the glass pane. In my rear-view mirror I saw him trot off into the brush, satisfied with his stunt. He probably high-fived his buddy just out of sight.
So I checked my wheels again next time I got gas, and saw that the rear tires were wearing pretty fast. It was too late to get new ones at a tire store or at walmart, so I just decided to push forward. Curtis drove again and I tried to sleep, but I couldn't cause it was dark and we were climbing yet another mountain with cliffs and I just got a little nervous. We ended up in Grand Junction later than expected where we took a quick pee break and then continued to march forward. Onward ever onward.
We passed Green River, Utah with two gallons of gas left. The nearest gas station, which I didn't realize at the time, was about 100 miles away. We climbed yet another fricken' mountain, then saw that we would not make it to the safety of a few gallons of petroleum distillate. But glory be, the wafaring angels sang and behold, a sign appeared!
"GAS FOOD NEXT EXIT"
We pull off, rejoicing at our luck, then immediately cursing our fate...
"GAS 21 MILES NORTH"
Somehow, I've been blessed with extreme luck. You see, I have a 10 gallon gas tank in my Corolla. When we rolled in to Ferren, Utah, I somehow managed to put 10.24 gallons of Dubya Juice into the money hole of fuel.
Hour long detour there, 3 hours behind our normal schedule... Then another mountain to climb, while snowing. I hit the second worst snow storm of my life then, and managed to drive the rest of the way to St. George unable to see. Joy.
I passed 8 or 10 cars all parked, waiting out the storm. I just kept going.
Then we were in St. George.
Tune in next time for part 2. THE RECKONING!
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
