On the Road, Part Deux

Snow from my hotel window

 “A lot of people like snow. I find it to be an unnecessary freezing of water.”
― Carl Reiner

I was already awake when my alarm went off Sunday morning, but I refused to get out of bed.  Even though I had closed the drapes Saturday evening, I knew what horror awaited me outside.  Unfortunately, a certain little dog had needs that I could not meet by staying in the room, so I got up, walked to the window, and opened the drapes.

"HOLY CRAP!"  In all honesty, I said something a bit stronger than that, but I'm not sure this blog is the place to write such things.  Suffice to say that I was not happy in the least.  "Why don't you learn to use a commode?" I asked the poor dog who was, by that time, standing by the door with all four of his legs crossed.  He assured me that he was in worse shape than I since I had put on, in addition to my jeans and t-shirt, two pairs of socks, two scarves, shoes, a hat, a coat, and mittens.  I don't even have shoes, he said. Chastened, I took him out.

Day #2 as we leave

I didn't plan to eat breakfast at the hotel because their usual fare is pretty horrible, but there was a little bacon calling my name, so I grabbed a biscuit and threw a few sliced into it before I got in the car to head to a gas station, the local Starbucks and I-40 east.  I threw the car in gear, backed out, and took a bite of said bacon biscuit.  I'd really like to go off track here for just a second to talk about hotel breakfasts, but I'll save the food for another day.  Let me just say that if I'm going to waste a day's worth of calories on bacon, it better taste like bacon.  I threw that grey biscuit in the trash on my way into Starbucks.

There were about three inches of snow on the ground, but the Albuquerque Street Department was salting and cleaning the streets, so I had an easy time leaving the city.  The sun came out while I was still within city limits, and I thought I was home free.  I watched the sun sparkle off of the white stuff and saw something I'd never seen before.  Because the sun was so hot and the snow so cold, a fog lifted quickly when the two met. The white, pearly air floating over the highway was mesmerizing, and I told Riles to watch.  He was more interested in his breakfast, so he missed it.

A little east of Albuquerque

The sky was a beautiful blue, and even though we were stuck in the car, we could tell the air was crisp and clean and clear.  I thanked God for getting rid of the snow and making the driving easier.

Oh, me of too much faith.

We weren't 20 miles east of Albuquerque when the little flakes started again.  Flakes fell, and clouds covered the sun. At times, the storm was so strong I could barely see the cars in front of me.  I said a few choice words and prayed that the snow would end.  It did not.  It got worse.

(Let me interject one other thought:  As I was driving along with semis and cars and pick-ups all passing me, I thought, I am never going to make OKC today.  I felt like I was driving about 45 mph.  Imagine my surprise when I looked at the speedometer and saw that, while trying to keep up with everyone leaving me in the dust, I was going 85 mph.  Yikes.)

To get from Albuquerque to Oklahoma City on I-40, one must drive about 550 miles through New Mexico, Texas, and Oklahoma.  For 430 of those miles, through Santa Rosa, Amarillo, and Elk City, we drove through snow and ice and snow and ice.  I gripped the steering wheel with both arms, fingers tight around the black leather wheel.  I tried to listen to a book on tape but couldn't concentrate.  As we neared Elk City, OK, I noticed that my eyes were starting to drag.  The little dude told me he needed to make a pit stop, so we hit the first McD's we saw since there was no Starbucks in sight.

Somewhere in either NM

"Can you make an espresso?" I asked the gal at the counter.

"You know an expresso is very tiny, don't you?" she asked me back.  I tried not to roll my eyes.

"I need the caffeine boost," I told her. "Make me a double and throw it in a cup of coffee."  She stared at me for a minute and then advised the gal working the McCafe stuff to make a double expresso and put it in a cup of coffee.  After some discussion about how to do that, they figured it out and gave it to me.  I was on my way again and happy to see that the snow had stopped.  I again thanked God but begged him not to throw another snowball at me a few miles down the road.

To stay alert, I talked to Mike and to a few friends. I gave up on Bill Bryson (my book on tape) and turned on the radio.  Lucky me! OKC had a radio station that played only Christmas songs.  Riley and I sang Christmas songs for the last 50 or so miles.  I imitated Riles during one song, and he got insulted and curled back up on his bed and hid. I still had fun singing.

 There are a few things that amazed me about the Oklahoma Turnpike, but I'll save that for tomorrow since I had more adventures with it on Monday than on Sunday.... Suffice to say we somehow made it to the hotel, checked the weather forecast for our Monday route, and called Mike.

Somewhere in Texas (or NM.... I forget)

"Where are you going to stop tomorrow?" he asked me.

"London."  There was no way in heaven I was going to stop in another hotel and chance bad weather again.

"It's a long drive."  He couldn't see it, but I rolled my eyes.

Now, let me explain.  As I mentioned, we had planned to do this exact drive this week, and in those plans, he had decided we should stop in either Terre Haute or Indianapolis the third night so we wouldn't have to drive to far in one day.

"I'll see how I feel," I told him and went to bed.

Tomorrow: Oklahoma turnpikes and patrolmen make Monday too long