Yup, it was every bit as miserable as you imagined! I was in a car, yup you read correctly, a car like the one in the picture, a Saturn L200 as a matter of fact for 16 hours not including the night spent in Albuquerque, NM. UGH!!
We shoved off at 3pm on Saturday from my brother’s house in Arizona. The first couple hours weren’t bad. We all made small talk, I took some pictures of the desert on my phone, we called my sister, we had fun…. then the sun began to go down. My dad insisted it be freezing cold in the car, my mom started smoking out the back window (I guess I can’t complain, at least she cracked the window). We all ran out of things to talk about. I was trying to sleep but couldn’t because now the “I’ve been in the same position too long” cramping was taking place… and I was freezing.
We stop for dinner at the most po-dunk, backwoods, hillbilly eatery in Arizona. I think it was called The Red Onion, boasting it’s world famous burgers. Yeah, world famous I’m sure, but not for taste. We walk into an old wooden cabin mainly with Nascar decor. Of course, what bar would be complete without the array of beer neons, there were antlers, mounts and a mtn. lion rug adorning the walls. I made special note of the life-size cardboard Hulk Hogan in the corner and the handmade red drapes that separated the kitchen and waiter area from the dining area. The salad bar was two open grills with the racks removed, filled with ice and the “fixins”. Not only did you get squeeze bottles of the usual ketchup & mustard, you also get squeeze bottles of ranch & mayo. Yum. Oh yeah, everything was served on paper plates. The burgers were not good, we paid the bill and on the way out waived goodbye to the entire wait staff huddled around the same bucket sucking down Marlboro reds like their lungs will be removed tomorrow.
Then my mom took the wheel, oooh even better, she insisted the car be scorching hot. The most annoying part was the volume she had the radio. Just loud enough to hear there is music on, but not loud enough to understand the words. if I were to reach in the vicinity of the radio or the heater, I got smacked on the hand and got “the look”. Still can’t sleep, I’m stripped down to a tank and still sweating, listening to what might as well be static.
We roll into Albuquerque, which is it’s own blog in itself. I want to drive and continue on, but was met with aversion to that idea. Since I didn’t get any sleep (and whose fault was that?), my parents didn’t want me to stay up all night and then be a wreck the next day. They did have a point, but I just wanted to get home as soon as possible.
We left at 9am the next day, my dad drove an hour or so before I took over and drove the rest of the day into Denver. As we were passing Santa Fe, my dad asked if I had heard the story of the Miraculous Staircase. I hadn’t, he told, then he wanted to stop and see it. We actually got off the highway, I looked up the church’s number on my phone and called. It wasn’t open for another hour. I for one didn’t want to dick around in Santa Fe for an hour, then go look at a staircase, however long that would’ve taken. My mom couldn’t care less, so we didn’t go. I feel a little guilty about it. I think my dad really wanted to see it. He will another time. The story is quite interesting. Google The Loretto Chapel or the Miraculous Staircase and you’ll get the story and pictures of the staircase.
I got back to Denver just in time to see the Broncos/ Bears upset… awesome (can you feel the sarcasm?). I took a shower, relaxed and dozed in and out during the New England/ Seattle game, which also didn’t turn out the way I wanted, and hit the sack. Why was I sooo tired after doing absolutely nothing all day? The answer to that mystery eludes me.
At least I made it back and all in all, it could’ve been much worse. However, next time I’ll just pony up the money for a roundtrip airline ticket!
