For those of you just joining us, I am on house-hunting leave driving to San Diego to find a new home as we prepare for my new duty station. When we left off our hero (me) was driving across Texas with no end in sight. We now join the trip already in progress:
If you think that a drive across the country might be slightly boring and you need to liven it up a bit, the best thing you can do is bring a cat. That’s what I did and the results have been remarkable. The family cat has been my traveling companion for the last three days, and has been keeping an ongoing monologue the entire time. I’m not quite sure what she is saying but the overall theme appears to be that she is not happy with her accommodations.
“What kind of idiot brings a cat on a house-hunting trip?” you might be asking. And I’ll be honest; I began asking this as well. The truth, is my wife and I need the furry beast out of the way when the movers come and we didn’t want to be subjected to both the cat’s howling and our children’s screaming when we drive the whole family across the county next week (that’s right I get to do this again).
I never thought I would see the day when entering New Mexico would be my highest aspiration. Finally leaving Texas has made me the happiest man on the planet. World peace would make me happy too, but not nearly as much.
As I gaze on the absolute beauty of New Mexico, the golden horizon takes my breath away. What also takes away my breath is the aroma. Which is, essentially, cows, or more specifically cow manure. It was then that I noticed that the view is not only breathtaking golden beauty, but also filled with more cows than I have ever seen (or smelled) in my life. There were cows as far as the eye could see. Some of you may have been raised on farms and believe that livestock have a pleasant smell or that farm animals are an acquired scent, but that is because you have never smelled 100,000 cows all at once.
That’s not all there is to say about New Mexico. There is far more to the state than “looks great, smells bad” (the official tourist slogan). For example there’s… um…well they have… err… Well to be honest I have no idea what else is in New Mexico, but there’s got to be something else, right?
As fast as I can, I make it to the Arizona line. From what I can see, Arizona consists of cactuses (or maybe it’s “cacti,” I should probably look into that) and dirt… a lot of dirt. There are also tumbleweeds. I have almost been run over by three of them. Have you ever seen the cute little ball of rolling sage on TV used to set the scene for the desert? Well, in real life they are the size of a Chevrolet Suburban, only faster moving and more fuel efficient. These things will knock you off the road.
On the upside there’s not a car in sight so I can drive as fast as I want. However, after driving for three days (or maybe three years… it’s all pretty blurry) I am exhausted; at least the howling cat in the backseat is keeping me awake.
Arizona does not appear to have a robust population. What few people I have seen at gas stations are very friendly. I had a very friendly and very long conversation with the gas station attendant, who would not take my money until I heard all about everything that has ever happened in his life, his wife’s life, and his kids’ lives (he has four and it was necessary that I heard about them individually).
Back on the road again, I started seeing signs for Yuma in only 350 miles. I was thinking it must be major metropolis (well, for Arizona) because I have seen a sign for it every 15 miles. As I approached Yuma I drove past the largest trailer/RV park I have ever seen. For the next 10 minutes (or approximately 57,000 cat howls) I drove past single-wides, double-wides, and the greatest assortment of recreational vehicles I have ever seen. I was starting to think that Yuma was just a city made up trailer parks. I wish I could tell you that it was much more than a trailer park; unfortunately I was busy passing a truck when I got to the exit and have no idea what Yuma consists of, but I like to imagine it is a town deserving of all its publicity. Five minutes later I crossed into California.
California! I was finally there. I made it to the west coast, to the Golden State. The trip was finally over, unless you count the 160 miles I still had to drive. I’d like to tell you that those 160 miles were beaches and tiki bars, but it turns out the western portion of California looks pretty much the same as Arizona, with an amazing view of the Mexican border (which also looks just like Arizona).
At least when I get to San Diego I can finally get some rest; I just need to meet with a realtor and find a house first. That shouldn’t take too long, should it? San Diego probably has tons of luxurious houses with big yards for rent at reasonable prices. After an afternoon looking for a house, I can put the cat in a kennel (which should improve her mood, as she is now riding on the roof) and then lounge at the beach for a couple days before I fly home. What could possibly go wrong?
Sea Stories and other lies 