On the Road Again

Arizona

As each day turns into another, one loses a sense of time on the road.  Drive all day, only stopping for bathroom breaks and for snacks which get crunched and smashed by unloading and loading again and again before they are even eaten. Bags of peanuts, crackers, candy, coffee and bottles of water all spilling out of the vehicle each time the door opened.  Not to mention the dog in the picture decided that she did not want to stay in her seat next to me when a very loud semi truck passed.  She decided to climb the mountain of belongings to the back seat, making a home as far away from that sound as she could.  There was nothing I could do as I was sandwiched between 2 trucks traveling: hmm...about 80!I only hoped they would both see my little compact, not change lanes, and the dog did not become completely wild and cause me to lose control. A doggie seat belt  seems like a good idea however, in practice I could not train the animal to sit nicely buckled.   At the next rest stop I made a little place for her by repacking the trunk and filling her spot on the front seat.  We would stop each night at a Motel 6 as they always take animals with no extra charge.  The rooms are not usually beautiful but they are clean.      The place I took this picture was an unusual find.  A local hotel, not a chain which not only allowed our pets to stay, they also included a full service breakfast with our nights stay.  It was just beginning to get cold in Arizona as they had the pool closed and the morning air was nippy somewhere around 65 degrees.  The hotel had an inner court and around the corner from the ice machine were small gardens filled with flowering plants and bushes.  Statuary and roses followed a straight line near the edges of the sidewalk.   A peaceful native woman, made of desert materials, was pouring water from her vessel.  She was nestled amoungst a bevy of fresh bloomed flags and roses.  It was obvious that someone cared about this establishment.   They served us breakfast cereal and eggs cooked to our order, hot yet somewhat weak coffee, toast or bagels. Of course, the waffle machine was churning out waffles from the industrial user friendly machine, just like every other hotel we had  been in that boasted a congenital breakfast.  Fed and alert we loaded up and moved  onto New Mexico, The Land of Enchantment.   Each night the same ritual:  Unload my bicycle and put it in the room. All coolers needed to be brought in and parrot and cage set up, canary bird last, followed by the dogs.   Then my one soft trunk and moms various bags of make-up, snacks, road food, breakfast foods, lose clothing, bird food, dog food and boxes of whatever she had purchased at the local dollar store that we "Needed." Cars locked, conversations with neighboring travelers about where to eat dinner, how far we had come, where we had come from and where we were going to.  Then eating take out in the room and watching cable until we were relaxed enough to sleep on rock hard beds,  with scratchy wool blankets  decorated with cigarette burns.  Well, sort of sleep. I would not say it was really sleeping.  I suppose that is why each day started to blend into another, that each place began to look the same.  Miles and miles of malls and stores with the same names like Home Depot, Ross, Walmart, Sears and K-Mart.      On occasion there was a traffic accident which was  exciting but held us up, so we did not make our milage for the day.  Once in Texas we sat in traffic for over an hour, creeping up on a panel truck that had turned so sharply it rolled over in the freeway. No one was hurt, and the police and driver of the truck, who was waving his arms in the air and chain smoking ignored all of us baking in the heat,  as they turned the middle of the interstate into their own 3 ring circus.    Each night Motel 6 became our home  again and each day just after the sun had risen we loaded up  and off we went: fuel, coffee, road.  Around noon I would see my moms car start to weave a little and her speeds became erratic, 85, 70, 65 and so on.  That meant she was hungry. I would call and suggest a lunch stop.   By the time we made Mississippi I had enjoyed barbecue at "Jerry Mikeskas"https://www.facebook.com/pages/Jerry-Mikeskas-BBQ-Catering/28543540154 where we had personal service by Jerry himself, a dapper  bow tied gentleman who gave us delicious food, and assured me he did not kill all those animals on the walls.  I can always say I had real barbecue in Texas! Pretty cool I think.   After eating our way throughout the West and then the Southern United States our pocketbooks decided that the best financial advantage besides cold luncheon meat and bread was Dairy Queens nationwide $5.00 lunch. They were always clean, and the food was always hot and then of course my mothers favorite: ice cream for dessert. If mom was happy the rest of the day was bliss.        I am not a sweets person, I love Asian food.  Mostly Thai. The first time I had Thai food It was in "Thai Heaven." That was the name of the resturant and I was literally in Thai Heaven, # 9(for heat) Pud Thai, and Swimming Rama. That was the first time in my life I was tempted to lick my plate.  I became a fan of things called green curry paste and those little green things that resemble hot peppers that float around in the coconut milk. I make a complete Thai meal for my family that turns everyone's faces red yet they love it.           I knew when I left the West that would pretty much be the end of real Asian Cuisine. I was right. In Seattle there are many places to eat good Thai and  Chinese.   Here?  Nothing yet, maybe I saw a Chinese restaurant the other day way down on the outskirts, when I was searching for a particular store.  How disappointing is that?  I have imagined myself in Maine again where the word Asian was replaced with oriental and their ethnic culinary wonders were few and far between.   Just one more thing about food.  As it seems to be a main focus when one is traveling, not that a person does anything but sit most of the time, I have concluded it is all the action going on between the temples. Many of the seasoned travelers I have seen this trip, get out of their land yachts and walk at the rest stops.  We did most of our eating at rest stops and I will let rest stops be another subject as they are a subject. One hint: there are none in Louisiana. A couple welcome centers once in a while therefore, I recommend not drinking anything before or during traveling through Louisiana. Yet wait! Before we got to Louisiana we  traveled through Texas. It was in Texas that we encountered: Cowboys! When I say Cowboys, I do not mean Rodeo, bucking broncs and all of that.  I am referring to people that drive in a way that they do not care if they driving into hell and who they take with them.  The Cowboys do not observe speed limits, or any other traffic rule known in any nation.  The closest thing I can relate their driving to, I witnessed at the State Fair in the demolition derby.  Its just pedal to the metal and may God help anyone that gets in their way even passing on the right! Wow! .  These drivers persuaded me I wanted to live,  and question how it was they still did, and further, to examine any bad driving habit I may have and repent appropriately.