Early morning.
It is one of those rare occasions when everything seems right with the world, the dogs are not barking, the police helicopter (The Ghetto Bird) is roosted somewhere far away, and the noise of the city isn’t as bad as usual. Quietly I soak it in.
Blew into town last night at three in the morning, and most likely will leave about the same. The best way to deal with places like El Paso, San Antonio, Houston, Dallas and the like.
Sneak in ... Sneak out ... Run silent and run deep.
Bootlegged a little WI-FI here in Kamperland and got caught up. Reading all of these posts on “true engine temperature” and thinking about the long hills on Arizona #95 and Wickenburg, if you have never been there, don’t go in August. 112* ambient outside temp’s and sticky-goo asphalt, too hot to sit on.
Parked in the hot sun at the top of the hill (if you are lucky enough to make it to the top) waiting for the old girl to cool down and the over-heat lite to go off. Robbing cold water out of the ice chest to splash on the radiator, not a good day. But now, some 1,200 miles later, it is just a well worn faded memory.
Next time I will remember two important things. #1 turn off the desert cooler (radiator splash package) when you are done with it. #2 find a different way to go that doesn’t have the word “Wicken” in it anywhere.
Sitting in the cool of the morning, figuring out the fuel tickets (where did all that money go?) and listening to the quiet hum of the air conditioner. No more desert illegal alien checkpoints or profile checks.
Three and four mile punishing mountain grades, and mile after mile, of nothing but miles to contend with. Tryin to squeeze into the skinny bus parking at the Cracker Barrel for a bowl of soup and a sour dough BLT, when you are actually lucky enough to find a real town.
Houston ... Plugged in and resting. The grandkids are safely deposited back with their parents and it is finally quiet in the old hoopie for a change. I soak it up like a well worn sponge. It is amazing what can happen when you give yourself permission to spend some time alone. It gives you a chance to think, quietly and without distraction. Being alone gives you a break, a chance to breathe and to lighten up.
We can become lost in the task of day-to-day living and/or traveling, just getting here and there, can often be a mind numbing experience. Well, I am here, I have been here before and it is much the same. Hot and sticky ... Gawd bless Texas and of course, “under arm deodorants.”
But like I said ... Life and living is good, I don’t care where you live. Count your blessings. 3,000 miles and our third week on the road.
So much for Wednesday. One more day in a long string of days, but I am not complaining. I have this and more to handle down the road of life I am sure.
In a short while I will pony up to the pump one more time at the Flyin’ Hooker (truck-stop) and feed the beast another high-dollar-liquid meal, and then it is home to El Reno, the laundry room and the power washer. Put the old trusty steed in her stall to wait on the next trip.
Reflections on but another long-gone almost lost Hump Day for a Bus Nut in Texas. See you in the fast lane today or maybe not ... Anywho, the rest of you, locked down in your respective haunts, hang in there, you almost have it made.
Elvis has left the building ....
BCO