Day Three: I'm going home.
Thursday morning, Dad and I left Grand Junction at 630a. A couple of hours down the road, we ate a breakfast of champions at McDonald's (parfait and nuggets for me), and if I never eat at McDonald's again in my life, I will be a happy woman. In fact, I ate enough fast food over those three days to last me a grease quota of at least five years. Ugh ugh ugh.
Day three felt the longest because the closer we were to home, the more we still weren't there. Utah's desert isn't my favorite type of terrain, but it was golden and pretty in the light of sunrise:
St. George was a welcome surprise (houses instead of brush), and the road to Las Vegas was uneventful. Vegas itself was another story. We pulled into a gas station and got stuck in the semi-truck part of the station because the parking lot didn't connect to the front. After managing to fit through a driveway going the wrong way, we pulled up the regular diesel pump, and it wouldn't read the card. Dad took the card in while I went the washroom and when I came out, he was in the truck ready to go to another station. Apparently the cashier had to reset the pump three times and it still wouldn't work. We do need more than thirteen cents worth of gas .... So we pulled into a station across the street and thought that the ten-cent price difference in diesel must be a good sign.
We were wrong. The card reader also didn't work, so I went in and paid for $100 worth of gas. Went outside, Dad said the pump wasn't reset. Went inside and had to wait in line; by the time I got to the counter, I looked like an idiot when I said it wouldn't work and the cashier told me we'd pumped $17 worth so far. Went back outside, Dad only used $50, went inside for a credit and had to wait in line again. When I finally got back in the truck, Dad was waiting and had apparently almost gotten in a fight with some idiot who cussed him out for using the pump the other guy wanted to use. We got the hell out of Dodge as quickly as possible. And to think that I could have moved there in a few years -- too hot, too ugly, and no freaking way. Vegas, I bite my thumb at you!
The rest of the drive home was uneventful, save for the fog as we drove into the hills before Tehachapi. We thought it must be smoke from a fire because it was so thick, but the whole Valley was blanketed with fog.
Finally, just before 8p on Thursday, November 1, we pulled up to my parents' house in Exeter. It was a bittersweet moment, being so tired and all, but god, did it feel good to get out of the truck and know I didn't have to get back in any time soon. In the next hour and a half, I watched Survivor with my mom, checked email, did laundry, talked to Rachel, and crashed into bed.
Highlights from Day Three:
- Things I learned from my dad -- Any hotel that doesn't provide an alarm clock is chintzy. Classic rock stations are always The Fox, The Eagle, or The Hawk. The Beastie Boys are tolerable for ten seconds longer than Earth, Wind, and Fire or Sublime.
- In some states, UPS and FedEx trucks pull three trailers! It's pretty freaky-looking but very cool.
Because even if your life is too unsettled for any place to feel like home, home is still where your heart is.
2 comments:
Hey, glad to hear that you're home safe! I hope that both you and Giada are recovering well from the long journey :)
You made it home!! I was sad when you said you drove through St. George because even thought that's 4.5 hours away from Provo, we were still in the same state at the same time and I didn't get to see you :(...and just so you know, Provo and the surrounding mountains are very beautiful. Some people like the deserty feel of St. George, but Provo is surrounded by really big, peaked mountains that are so beautiful. Lots of hiking and beautiful scenery drives available. But, no matter how beautiful the mountains are... it doen't make it worth the snow!!!!
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