DAY TWELVE - Tuesday, November 4, 2008
It is not unusual for me to wake up five minutes or so before my alarm goes off, no matter what time it's set for. I've noticed that I seem to be able to set my inner clock pretty easily over the last several years… another example of my savantically idiotic talents. In any case… I awoke at 4:25am, turned off the alarm before it went off, and got up to start my day. Brushed the sweaters off my teeth, started the coffee, and did my morning LSB Site post. A routine I had become quite familiar with.
I was excited to get back on the open road with Honey & Alyson, but sad to be leaving the emotional warmth, comfort, and security I feel with Taumie and her Fam. Sometimes I get sad because I'm not very close to my two brothers that live in the same town as me, but when I'm with Taumie (or my sister Jackie) and their families, I feel happy that at least I have that feeling of true love, understanding, and total acceptance, which is to me… what family is supposed to be like.
Don't get me wrong, Bev, Don, and I totally love each other, it's just that neither of them is able to outwardly express it the way I need it to be expressed. It's like food or water for me… nourishment for my soul. I'm kinda 'weak' like that I guess. I know I shouldn't be dependant on anyone else to make me feel worthy. And it's not really like that… I'm having trouble expressing my feelings here…
Let me try to explain it this way: Out of respect, I won't go into any details, but I can tell you that about 20 years ago, Donnie (my twin) was deeply injured, emotionally. Ever since then, he has closed off a part of himself. Although I have noticed a change in the last few years, not coincidentally I'm sure… about the same time as he purchased his motorcycle… he has been more outwardly expressive with his feelings.
My older brother Bev is also the type who 'holds his cards tightly to his chest'. I don't know if he was injured as well, but neither of them wears their heart where I do… on my sleeve. Both of them have told me that they… and these are MY words, NOT theirs… both of them feel like they'd lose control if they allowed themselves to become outwardly emotional. Whereas I, on the other hand, feel like I would explode if I didn't. I know we love each other very deeply and truly, it's just that I get more of the emotion that I need from our sister's side of my family.
I'm sure it's the Mars - Venus thing… I've always said that I've felt more in touch with my feminine side than a lot of girls I know. I am emotional. I laugh loudly and fully, and I cry deeply and sincerely. I inherited an empathetic aspect to my personality from my Mom… sometimes I can literally FEEL other peoples' feelings. I call it a blessing and a curse. In any case, there is a kind of absolute fulfillment that I get from being around my sister and her families that I do not get from my brothers.
That's still not an accurate description of what I'm trying to say, but if I'm gonna finish this story, I’m gonna hafta move on now.
Which is what I did. Taumie and Brynn got up to give me their dose of white light protective energy for my ride back to the west coast. Brynn even went outside and took my picture as I drove off. About three miles down the road, I had to turn around and go back. Fortunately I had remembered that I had forgotten to pack my phone charger. As I walked back in the front door, I said something like, "I decided not to leave yet… you guys are gonna be stuck with me for another few days."
If I had said that to almost anyone else I know, I would've seen panic in their eyes. I am aware that I am not the easiest person to live with. I am very high maintenance. Anyway… the reaction I got from Taumie and Brynn, who were sitting on the couch watching the morning news, was… without even looking up… "Oh, ok, that's great… you know you can stay for as long as you want to."
As I write this, I can still feel the way my heart felt. Hugged, is the best word I can think of right now. My heart felt like it was given a hug and an embrace of love.
I left again, and it was 8:05am. Even with the delay, I was only five minutes behind the inconsequential departure time goal I had placed on myself. First stop, Lampasas. No Dairy Queen this time. Gas and one last cup of coffee, even though I knew it would mean having to stop again sooner than my normal 60 miles or so.
Chelsee was working the counter at the MMGS. She was a young pregnant girl with a friendly disposition. I spent too much time there, but when her coworker Sandy, brought in a cake and invited me to sing 'happy birthday dear Chelsee', I couldn't refuse. Chelsee was a real character. The first time I asked her, she said she wasn't yet 21. As I was leaving she said, with a totally straight face that she was 27. When I was getting on my bike, Sandy came out to make a comment about Alyson, and when I said that I enjoyed my morning stop with them, and that Chelsee was cool, she mentioned that she was 23. Whatever. As per my standard protocol, it amused me, because… let's say it together… "I am very easily amused."
sa- Chelsie & Sandy in Lampasas (picture to be added)
I made it further down the road than I had expected, and stopped next at Rochelle, one of the many blink and miss it towns along Hwy 190. That's the good news. The bad news was that it was only (about) 10:30am. I'd only made it 109 miles from Killeen, and I felt like a whipped puppy. I'd heard about the winds in west Texas, but now I was getting an opportunity (opportunity !?!?!) to experience them. I new they were gonna pick up as the day went on, and my shoulders and upper middle back muscles were already screaming to me that they were on fire.
I looked at my phone for the time, and realized I was without my Verizon Team Mates for the first time on the trip. 'This is strange' I thought… 'It's flat in every direction for as far as the eye can see… why no service?' Oh well, the early pioneers traveled across these plains without cell phones, I suppose I could make it too. It was slightly disconcerting however.
It's funny to me, how we have become so accustom and dependant on modern technology… how did we ever survive without things like microwaves, electric carving knives, and pulsating vibrating dildos?
Honey and I had been in strong winds before, but these were different. I had guessed that they were gusting at about 25 to 35mph, but found out later, from a local, that they were blowin' at 40~60. That, in and of its-self, isn't that bad, but the thing was that they were gusting from 0mph, and coming at me at exactly a right angle to the direction of my travel. It would be totally calm one second and then WHAMMO!! They would hit me like a mac truck, and I'd be headed for the gravel on the right side of the road.
They'd gust for two or three seconds and then instantly stop. When the wind was hitting me, Honey had to lean way over on her left side, to stay in a straight line. Then POOF!! No wind and we'd be heading into the oncoming lane. It was truly a test of my strength… reaction time… and riding ability, to keep Honey on the road. I decided to make it a test. Instead of getting upset, or feeling sorry for myself, I said, "Ok Ned… let's see what you got." Turned out, I had the right stuff, but boy oh boy… it certainly was a test.
Besides the wind, the day also took a little out of me when I ran out of gas, coming into Iraan. This time it wasn't my fault. When I had tanked up at the previous available gas station… it was only about 125 miles to Iraan, which under normal conditions is well within Honey's range. 4.7 gallons @ 40mpg = 188 miles. I'd gone 190 between her meals many times in the past. Several times over 200. I can normally gauge how many miles we have left, by doing some quick math, when I turn the valve to her reserve stomach.
Even though the wind was not a head wind, it was obviously taking its toll on Honey's food consumption. When her main tummy emptied and I turned the valve, we'd only gone about 90 miles, which calc'd out at about 25mpg!
After I did the math, I did it again. 25 times 3.7… that's 3 times 25 is 75, plus .7 times 25 is 14 plus 3½, gives me a total of 75 plus 17½ comes to 92½. I looked down again, and sure enough, my odometer showed 91 miles. Honey was only getting 25mpg, and with only one gallon left and 35 miles to the next town… we had 10 miles of trouble in front of us.
Fortunately the highway had dropped down from the high open plateau, and was going down thru a huge canyon, which was protecting us from most of the wind, so I leaned forward and settled my chest down against Honey's tummy to lessen the wind resistance, making Honey and me slightly more streamlined, as to (hopefully) increase the mileage we were getting. I was lucky… if we were still in the open, the wind gusts would've made it unsafe or impossible for me to assume this type of position. I even pulled in the clutch lever and coasted down the hills.
My efforts came within 1.2 miles of succeeding. Honey ran dry, and I coasted to the side of the road with the town of Iraan, and Honey's next meal, within sight. Rats… I knew I wasn't gonna leave my girls alone, and walk into town, and there was no way I should expect to get as lucky as I did back in Santa Anna, and only lose 45 minutes. I was bummed.
I was as tired as I'd been at any point on my trip (to that point), and my back and shoulders were almost numb from the constant pushing and pulling on Honey's reigns, keeping her on-line in the wind for the last six hours. I dismounted Honey with my head held low, expecting to be there for hours. It was around 2pm, and I'd only seen two cars in the last 50 miles or so.
I was wrong. I saw Butch's vehicle coming from the distance on a dirt side road. First as a cloud of dust, then as it followed his(?) driveway towards me, as a large pickup truck with a brown-skinned man in his 60's behind the wheel. He drove right up to me and rolled down his window. I had pulled off the road at the entrance to what was most likely the access road to his home, or perhaps his place of work.
What were the odds that Honey would run dry at someone's driveway? What were the odds of someone coming down that driveway within about two minutes of me parking there? With this kind of luck, I had no doubt that he had a can of gasoline waiting for me in the back of the truck. I was half right. He did have a can, but it was empty.
He offered to take me the short distance into town and return me to Honey with some gas, and this time I decided to take the chance of leaving my precious women on the side of the lonely highway alone. I figured that if anyone happened to come along in the time we were gonna be gone, my luck was so good that they would probably know Butch and wouldn't think about stealing from one of his guests… or perhaps even wait there and guard the gals until we returned.
Butch was a Native of the area (I didn't write it down, and I've forgotten which Tribe he descended from), so he declined my request to take part of his soul. And just like Ron (the other gentleman who helped me refuel in Santa Anna), he refused any reward or re-payment for the gas he used, or the time he spent. God, I love Texas.
Janet and Lisa at the MMGS were sweethearts, and when I got back on Honey to continue my journey, I shook my head in disbelief. It hadn't taken 45 minutes like the first time… this time I only lost 15 minutes… absolutely incredible. Sometimes I'm embarrassed about how freaking lucky I am. Clearly, I must have done some-thing really good in a previous life. I sure don't remember saving anyone's life, or anything like that in this life. Or… perhaps I've done enough little stuff in this life, to warrant a small gesture of thanks from the gods. In any case, I do NOT take these acts of good fortune lightly. I always remember to say my prayer of gratitude.
I only went 42 miles before my next stop. This was now by far… physically… the hardest day of my trip. It was still two hours to Van Horn, my goal destination, so I decided to stop in Fort Stockton instead. It was only about 40 miles up the road. No need to push it. I would get home, when I got home. The only deadline I had was being moved out of my house in Aptos by the 10th, and that wasn't even a real deadline, because the people who had bought my house said they would be happy to wait a couple extra days if I didn't return in time.
I think I forgot to mention that other good fortune event of the trip didn't I? The day before Glenn called to tell me I got the doctor's office remodel job, John Flaniken my realtor, had called to tell me the closing of the escrow was imminent, and that the closing of the sale was going to happen on the 4th. The move-out deadline was one week after that. Today was the 4th, and I calc'd only a maximum of five driving days to get home, so you see… there was no rush, I had two days to spare, and the kindness buffer from the new owners to get the last of my stuff out… plus I didn't have that much stuff left in the house, only two or three truck loads, which I could easily handle in one day. The sale meant that I was going to avoid a foreclosure on my mortgage from the bank, which lessoned 'the hit' I took to my credit score.
The only hitch in my upcoming abode relocation, was that I didn't know for sure where I was going. Donna and I had hit another bump in our relationship just before I left, so I wasn't sure if her offer for me to stay with her still stood. Boy oh boy… the road of our relationship sure is a bumpy one.
I think six or eight months is the longest we've ever gone, without some sort of falling out. Some major, some minor, but we always seem to be splitting up, and then getting back together. I've always said that our relationship is combustible. I say that she's the fire and I'm the gasoline. For example, I have two pictures, one on each side of my bed… on Donna's side is Marilyn Monroe, and on my side is the space shuttle blasting off.
When I stopped at Ft. Stockton, there were two motels to choose from and they were both 'high end' establishments with prices well over $100. I had the cash, but for some reason I got a burst of energy, and felt like proceeding to Van Horn after all.
Even if I couldn't save any money, it got my motor running to know that even with all the trials and tribulations of the day, I was gonna succeed at the goal I set for my selves (to reach Van Horn).
One of my selves told me I was making a mistake… that there was no need to prove anything to anyone, and that I was showing off by pushing forward. Then another one of my selves told me that I wasn't proving anything to anyone… that I was only having fun… just for me. The argument with my selves didn't last too long. Yes it did. No it didn't. Oh come on, you know it did. Shut up, don’t' exaggerate. I'm not exaggerating, you shut up. Jeesh, sometimes my selves act like children.
Van Horn was the right choice. I satisfied my childish test, and saved about $75. All of my selves ate well that night, and all of us got a sound night's sleep.
A 485 mile day, and 3,265 for the trip.
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