On the road from the San Francisco Bay Area to the Yellowstone area. The adventure begins.
Fernley Nevada; established 1905. We’re on the road trip, headed for the
mountain states. Fernley wasn’t exactly
where I’d expected to land on the first day out. I’d hoped to reach Winnemucca on the first
night but “civilization” (and I use that term loosely) wouldn’t let go of its nasty, relentless grip.
The plan was for the wife to pick me up at work at 3 and
we’d head straight out. She kept her
part of the bargain. Actually got there
by 2:45. But work is relentless and it
wasn’t going to let me out. That’s the
way it always is before you head out for vacation. You work like a fiend, multi-tasking your
multi-tasking in the days leading up and by the time it’s your last day someone
has dumped a steaming pile of problems on your desk. And so this year wasn’t any different.
I feel obligated to leave my backup with as clean a slate
as possible when I leave and I did my best.
I just hope that nothing blows up while I’m gone. By 2:30 I’d about shoveled the steaming pile
(I hope) and then I had to wrap up some last minute details, send out some
emails and leave my out of office phone message which inevitably is stammering
gibberish. It takes a few takes before I finally spit something out that doesn't make me sound like an idiot. “Hello you’ve reached my
voice mail. I will be out of the office beginning September, uh, September,
Monday…fuck.” “ Hello, you’ve reached my desk…shit.” “If you need immediate assistance you can contact her at
925-uhh…63…crap.” I finally got it right
– I guess. I didn’t bother listening to
the finished product. I just hope its
rated G.
We hit the road at 3:30 and it all went well until we hit
the wall that is more commonly known as I-80.
It was stop and go for miles and miles and miles. We hit a few stretches of smooth sailing and
then we got to Davis just west of Sacramento.
And we creeped along. The speedometer
barely registered. I found a traffic
report; like those things are any good. “There’s
an accident on 80 eastbound at Reed and you're in traffic, fool. So now what are you gonna do about it?” As
we reached the accident backup the wife offered that it might just be a pocket. I was able to look far ahead. “Pocket my ass; it’s the whole pair of pants.”
We got past the accident site which had long been cleared
and finally the hell of civilization was behind us. But the damage was done. We could’ve made Winnemucca but it would have
been an 11 o’clock arrival and I wasn’t up for it. The plan for the first couple days is to
drive till we want to stop – no reservations.
The wife gave me a worried look, “No reservations? We’ll be like Mary and Joseph.” Always the good Catholic. I didn’t intend to stay in a stable and I
sure as hell am not expecting this old woman to birth a child. At 62, I’m over that shit.
We pulled into The Comfort Suites at Fernley and the desk
clerk; a very hospitable innkeeper remarked that we looked tired. The wife told her our tale of traffic. The
young lady said, “I’ve heard that the traffic is getting pretty bad. What’s happened? Construction?”
“No,” I told her. “Northern California has turned into
LA.”
“That’s a drag.”
“Yup.”
As we pulled in a bus was unloading a high school girls’
soccer team. I contemplated moving on to
the next inn as I imagined running, giggling and hijinks until the wee
hours. What the hell. I did say to the clerk, “I don’t have
anything against high school girls or soccer teams. I have a daughter who was both but if you can
put us somewhere away from the team I’d appreciate it.” She obliged us. Well we’ll see how the night goes.
It’s a nice joint.
Clean, comfie-dandy, and pretty darn spacious. Hell the bathroom is bigger than some Motel 6
rooms we’ve had. As we pulled in I noticed a casino nearby; The Silverado. Hmm, maybe try my luck before bed?" Screw it. I've gotta get up in the morning and do I really want to spend a couple hours in a smoke filled casino playing blackjack with a bunch of long haul truckers?
It was pitch black when we arrived so we’ve no idea what
Fernley looks like. It does look
busy. Thirty minutes east of Reno it’s a
way station for truckers and travelers; an oasis of bright lights on the edge
of the desert. I don't guess we'll know what it looks like in the morning because it'll probably be as
black as the morning’s coffee when we pull out early for…
It's good that you try to leave your backup with a clean slate. Unfortunately, the only backup you got was on the parking lot known as I-80. The alternative of 680 I guess you considered but quickly rejected. During my time working in Livermore, the norm for Fridays on 680 N was worse than 80. I paced it one Friday afternoon while on 680 S and it was totally stopped for 12 miles. Many Bay Area folks won’t admit it, but the traffic in many locations is as bad as in El Lay.
ReplyDeleteThere’s some great humor from the perspective of one who wasn’t in the car, starting with the whole pair of pants line. Mary and Joseph, that a classic.
Here’s the solution for the out of office message: write a script. For many years, I’ve done closing announcements at some of the libraries I’ve worked for. Most of the time, they were done by the circulation staff at the checkout desk. It doesn’t matter if you’ve done it a gazillion times, all it takes is once without the script to sound like Foster Brooks.