The first day was pretty exciting. I was finally on a road trip. I left at 6:30 am, and the weather was perfect. My trip was close to 800 miles each way, and my rental car sucked. Since I was by myself (as usual), I took some pretty crappy pictures. As usual, I saw some pretty weird things that only a person such as me would notice. I recorded a sort of video diary with my camera so I wouldn’t forget anything notable.

Day One:

An hour into the 800 mile trip I realized the car I rented was a piece of crap “note to self, NEVER buy an American car” That statement doesn’t mean I’m not proud of my country. It just means I hate the cars my country makes. My back side went numb a few hours into a twelve-hour trip…just sayin..

Somewhere around Eugene OR. I was almost destroyed by a speeding teenager who decided it was safe to enter the freeway, and cross four lanes without looking. I guess she figured driving 85mph was the speed to do it as well. I liked the fact that she had a name tag type sticker on her back window. That saved me the hassle of using a string of generic obscenities. Instead, I was able to address Audrey personally after she veered away from me. It’s too bad her boyfriend David wasn’t with her. I could have addressed him directly too. I’m assuming David was her boyfriend, because his name was on the
passenger side of the window.

Soon after my run in with Audrey; I realized I had consumed an inordinate amount of coffee earlier on in the trip, and was in dire need of a “break”. I wasn’t paying attention to the signs, and missed the last exit with a restroom. The last sign I did notice said “Next exit 42 miles”. By the time I made the next exit, I almost wet my pants. It felt like an episode of the Dukes of Hazard, and my little crappy car was a white General Lee the way I pulled into the parking lot at Carl’s Jr. As I was wobbling up to the door, the manager happened to be standing there, and politely opened the door for me. He began to ask me how I was doing, but all I could utter was “Sorry, I’ve had to pee for over two hours”, and ran to the men’s room. Newly revived, I proceeded to  order some lunch. The manager gave me one of those awkward smiles, and no words were exchanged while he took my order. An hour or so later, I wondered just how many people ignored this poor guy’s greetings and ran, knock kneed, to the restrooms each day. I wonder if he thinks this daily occurrence is amusing, or sad. I guess that’s what happens when you work at the first exit.

Once I reached California, I drove past a car stopped about fifty yards shy of the exit to a rest stop with its back door open to oncoming traffic. As I got a little closer, I noticed a woman hanging out of the door heaving up what looked like a rather large meal. She must have been holding it in for a
while, because she didn’t care that hundreds of people were driving by, and pointing at the entertainment. I hope she eventually made it to where she was headed. If that were me, I would have been waving at cars to minimize the embarrassment, but that’s just me.

Nine hours into the trip, I reached Sacramento California. That’s when I knew I was in California, because it was the first stretch of road where drivers were passing me so fast that my car shook in their draft. I was traveling at a steady 72 miles per hour, so they must have been doing at least 90+. I guess that happens when you work 200 miles from home. It has always amazed me how Californians bitch about gas prices all day, but they refuse to give up their mammoth SUV’s. Their excuse it safety. I guess safety is a concern when you drive at the speed of light in a 12,000 vehicle. I really miss living in California, but I don’t miss the hypocrisy, but that’s a rant that’s been all ranted out. The roads in that area were especially shitty probably due
to it being the state capitol. I knew the Governator had run the state into the ground during his reign, but I had no idea it was that bad. The freeway was
being repaired in eight foot alternating sections so it was like driving on a high-speed wash board. The freeway was so rough I almost started feeling sorry for my little rent-a-crap can car. I almost felt like taking my chances on the dirt roads that skirted the space between the farm land, and the freeway.

Once I got close to the Bay Area, things smoothed out. The roads improved, the attitudes almost changed, and I knew I was close to my destination. I chose to take the San Mateo Bridge, and I am sort of glad I did. I got a good view of the butt end of San Francisco which was all covered in fog, the temperature cooled, and I could finally smell the salt air. Just as I was reaching mid-reminisce, I realized it was 5:30 which is peak traffic time on the 101. It’s funny; my speed during the majority of the trip was 70 miles per hour until I hit the last five miles. That took me over an hour. All in all, it was a pretty good trip even though my butt felt like I’d made the trip sitting on a wooden fence.

I told you I took some pretty crappy pictures. This one looks pretty good for being snapped from a car that’s doing 70mph about a foot from the guard rail on a bridge.