micah’s thoughts from the road

Wow, I haven’t written anything for a long time! Well, that is because I started the new job and have been working.

This has required that I do a lot of traveling. Those of you who know me, know that I RARELY travel anywhere so this is new to me!
Actually, it is interesting and challenging to travel on top of travel. The logistics of it all are tedious, but we have managed to make it work. It went like this:

When we were in Denver at Elizabeths Aunt Connies house, I had to travel to Dallas for a week (Orientation, HR paperwork, general specifics!).

The day after I returned, we hit the road and trucked it to Minneapolis via Mount Rushmore. Once there, I had to fly to Chicago for three days. (Not a bad flight! Only 1 hour!)

Two days after I returned from Chicago, I had to fly to Los Angeles. (Ugh!) The plane was filled with Northwestern State University BAND students who were on their way to Australia for a competition or something.

Somehow my luck had secured me the last seat in the rear of the plane (at least it was by the window). There was a kid two rows ahead of me who talked as much or more than I do….and that is just unacceptable.

He went on about the model of the plane that we were on, the thrust of the jets, what airports certain sized planes served, the difference between regional, national, and international airports, time zones and the state(s) that observe them, zzzzzz.

Truly he was an intelligent kid AND he had a bit of a sense of humor, but my, mY, MY!

Then it occurred to me, that was me twenty years ago. All of a sudden I could relate, and I began to listen closely. He was trying to find ANYTHING to talk about that someone else would talk to him about. So he was going through his mental catalogue at lightening speed. Honestly, I know how he feels.

Well, finally I arrived in LA where I decided to rent a car since a taxi ride to where I was headed would have cost $140 ONE WAY.
I rented a nice Impala for 145 for three days! HA!
The hotel they put me in was quite nice. It was a Four Seasons property, and I must say that it was a little pretentious…but I adjusted.

Unfortunately, what I thought was a crick in my neck spread to both sides of my neck and down my back…then came the fever.

By day two, I could not wait to get back to Minnesota. I was in pain and I felt terrible.

Just add a billion gallons of tequila, triple sec, and limes to that lake they have there, and well, you might have a party.
But don’t tell the Mormons - you don’t want to go down in your family tree as a lush.

Utah is a different kind of place. To illustrate this, here are some actual laws in the state of Utah -and yes, they are still on the books today!!

1. No one may walk down the street carrying a paper bag containing a violin.
2. Throwing snowballs will result in a $50 fine.
3. You’re not allowed to sell beverages containing more than 3.2% alcohol.

And here is a double whammy!

1. Women may not swear.
2. A husband is responsible for every criminal act committed by his wife while she is in his presence.

Zoinks! I couldn’t live there. The paper bag for my violin was a gift and I just can’t see parting from it.

The Heel of the Arches
Provo was just a bit of a quick stop for the night to get some rest.
Moab on the other hand, was a nice place to visit and spend a day at the Arches National park.

This is that place you see on the postcards from Utah.
(You do have postcards from Utah don’t you?!) It has those natural land bridges and sandstone arches that were made by erosion over many years. It is quite impressive to stand under one of these things and think about the time it took to create them.

After a couple of hours, I was getting hungry, so it was back to Moab to look for another kind of arches - the golden ones. No we didn’t eat at McDonalds, but there was a local brewpub next door that we wanted to try.
It was quite good, and I even had a beer, which I usually do not prefer. E and I had a nice dinner and then settled back at camp for a nice night’s sleep.

Westwater -water you thinkin’?
The next day, we hitched up and took off for Grand Junction, CO. I had just under a half a tank of gas -ok, maybe it was just under a quarter of a tank - anyway, I was certain that we would make Grand Junction which was only 70 miles away. (You see where this is going)

Well, Grand Junction was 70 miles away and EMPTY was only 50 miles away. Then it turned out that HELP was 64 miles away. We were close to an exit for Westwater, UT. The exit sign also indicated that Westwater had “NO SERVICES”. “No Services”?! What kind of town has “NO SERVICES”? A ghost town it turns out.
I think they leave those exit signs up just to antogonize folks like me that have to sit and look at them for a few hours until help arrives. Why else would you provide a sign for “No Services”?!

While we waited for roadside assistance, E made sandwiches and we had a nice lunch in the Utah desert just 20 miles from Colorado. I also took this time to make a sign that said “GAS?” which I stuck on the back of the trailer. It was this ‘Madison Avenue’ approach that inspired a couple in a really nice camper to stop and offer assistance. They said that they had 50 gallons of gas in their trailer and would be happy to help us!

The fella helped me back my truck (trailer still attached) off the shoulder (and I mean OFF the shoulder) so that he could pull right up next to me without being out in the highway.
He opened a hatch on his trailer and promptly pulled out what looked like a gas station hose complete with the nozzle! He gave me just over a quarter of a tank of gas.

I promised to meet him up the road in the next town and pay him cash for helping me. Right as he was leaving, the roadside assistance that we had called for showed up. “I have three gallons of gas for you”, the guy told us. “You might as well take it since I just dorve 64 miles to bring it to you.” I suspect that this three gallons would have gotten us to the next “No Services” sign.
We took it and thanked him for his assistance.

We caught up with the couple in the camper in Fruita, CO. We gave them one of our bags of jelly beans left over from our jelly bean factory tour and I gave him some cash.

Thanks to Steve and Leigh from Eagle, CO for helping us!

Now, in my defense, I must say that without these pre-planned episodes of running out of gas and getting stuck on beaches, our blogs would surely be boring.

I have made the sacrifices and placed myself in precarious positions on dark beaches and dangerous highways, not to mention the strain on my newly founded marriage, so that you, our dear reader, can have some entertainment.

In the end, I expect that I will be thanked for providing interesting readings to you my dear readers.

Thought for the day:
UTAH -Unleaded Took A Hike!

Do as the muccans do.

We left San Francisco by way of Sacramento, stopping by the Jelly Belly factory for a tour. Normally, I don’t mind taking a tour of a place, especially when there is something “free” at the end. However, as one might imagine on a candy factory tour, there were a lot of schoolkids on this thing.

I knew I was in for it when I pulled into the parking lot and saw four school busses! “I can deal with this, ” I thought. But I started to crumble as we walked up the walkway passed a giant inflatable Jelly Bean, next to which there were several crying and screaming kids.

I am not sure if they had already been on the tour and were crying because it was time to go…or were just coming in and they were scared of the giant jelly bean.
None the less, I felt like joining them.

I quickly found that the best place on the tour was at the front of the line. Most of the kids stayed back a ways so the front was a good place to be. This also permitted me to be the first to listen to our tour guides robotic delivery. Jokes with punch lines worse than Jonestown. Even Disney’s robots have a little personality…as does litmus paper…but there was none to be found in our tour guide.

We bought our obligatory sacks of beans and hit the road again.

Eventually we made it to Winnemucca, NV. The campground was quite nice and the owners were very friendly. We got checked in, got a suggestion to a local restaurant, and set up camp. We decided to try our hosts sugestion for dinner.

It was quite an experience. The food was good as was the service. It was all served family style, which for those of you who don’t know, means it is brought out in mass quantities -
Serve yourself from serving bowls, plates, etc. It was great.

A good nights sleep and then back on the road again!

I would like to thank John and Liz the owners of the Winnemucca RV park for their hospitality (we hope you are enjoying your Jelly Beans!). Pixeldust thanks to you for the propane light!

Thought for the day:
Never take a kid on a polished sugar tour.

…be sure to wear a sidearm. We rolled in to San Francisco and found our way to the RV park that was highly recommended by our directories. I think the authors of the rating recommended it highly because they WERE HIGH.

Our RV park might as well have been part of the Alcatraz tour because ,and I kid you not, it was in a very run down area where I would not want to stop to ask for directions, have a flat, run out of gas, or even win the lottery! Alcatraz doesn’t have as much razor wire on their fences as this place had. Seriously, there was razor wire! “Did this used to be an impound lot?”, I wondered.

None the less, we set up and unhitched. We drove around SF for a while and took some of the narrow and steep streets just to see them in person.

We made our way to the Golden Gate Bridge and drove to the park on the other side taking plenty of pictures along the way. Afterwards, we went to Fishermans wharf and had dinner at “The Crab House”. Very good stuff.

Overall it was a nice experrience in spite of the fact that we seemed to be in a rough area. The next morning we hitched up and were back on the road again…headed for the Jelly Belly Jelly Bean factory in Fairfield.

Thought for the day:
I hope I don’t leave my heart in San Francisco -or my wallet.

We arrived in Pismo Beach and quickly set up camp right along a lagoon within walking distance of the Pacific beach. It was wonderful. I personally love the ocean and just feel a sense of charge whenever I am near it.

E and I walked down to the pier nearby and took a few pictures of the sunset, a sea lion, and various other shots. It was a bit chilly, so we did not stay too long. We walked up the boardwalk to a nearby pub called Scotty’s and had a bite to eat and a couple of drinks. A nice end to a long day of driving.

The next morning we took a stroll on the beach where I promptly found a whole sand dollar every two to three feet of walking distance! There must have been several hundred “dollars” worth all over the beach. I picked up several and decided that there were just too many. I put them back down and took a couple of pictures…keeping about five in my front jacket pocket.

We made our way back to the trailer to plan our day. I was leaning over to plug in the computer when I heard ‘crunch’. I only had one dollar left and some ‘change’. Quite upsetting, but I figured I could get more tomorrow.

Lunch in Pismo beach was great at a little place called The Splash Cafe.
Clam chowder is their specialty, and I confess, it was quite good! If you ever find yourself in Pismo, try it!

Later that afternoon, we decided to take a drive around and see the scenery. We soon came upon a nice stretch of beach that looked like a good place to take a romantic walk.
There was even a paved ramp that led down to the shoreline!

Like the Sands through the Hourglass…
I thought that this would be a good place for newlyweds to take a twilight time stroll on the beach…well that is what I thought.

I drove down the ramp and stopped just short of the sandy beach to make sure that the sand would support Otis (my truck). It seemed fine, so I proceeded. Well, it was MORE than fine…it was powdery fine, and soon Otis decided that this was not a good place to take a romantic walk. In fact he showed me just how quickly newlyweds could get stuck in a rut.

I hopped out and started digging. I used rocks, my hands, plastic lids from some tupperware bins we had, everything. But it was too late; Otis was dug in good.
Nothing I did made it any better.

After a couple of hours, I knew that I was defeated. I was SHORE TIRED…and after working around the rear wheel on the passengers side for the last half hour, I was also quite EXHAUSTED.
Yes, I was SMOKED.

Axing for Help
I noticed a car parked up on the road and decided to go ask if they were local and knew of a freindly tow truck service. As I approached the darkened vehicle, I noticed a woman walking down nearby steps toward the beach and a gentleman unloading the trunk. I went to inquire with the man, calling out in advance so as to not startle him. Upon hearing my voice, he came around the car with a long handled AXE in his hand. Oh boy!

Here I was stranded out in the middle of nowhere with my new bride and talking to a man in the dark with an axe. Luckily it was for chopping firewood for the bonfire they were about to build and not for me. I asked if he could call me a tow truck to which he quickly agreed.
I was informed that a truck would be out in half an hour.

Let me tell you that a half hour lasts much longer than half an hour when you are stranded on a beach in the middle of nowhere with a man with an axe.
I needed that tow truck here and fast…chop! chop!
er ummm I mean, in a hurry!

While we were sitting there waiting, the man and his friend came down to where we were (without the axe) and invited us to come join them by thier fire. It was a nice gesture and we would have obliged, but the tow truck showed up just then.

So…a good samiritan, a tow truck, two and a half hours, and $95 later the tow truck guy, Will, attached his winch and chains and had me out in a fraction of the time that I had been digging.

E was nice enough to take lots of pictures and even a bit of video for posterity. You can get her side of the story here. (e’s side)

I would like to thank Chris and Tara for their hospitality and assistance. Also, thanks for not killing us!

Thought for the day:
Sometimes there just aren’t enough rocks.