(Blogger’s note: I know, you’re all dying to find out how the Supermodel’s and my tenth anniversary road trip went. Well … too much happened to cover in one blog entry, so I’m going to have to do this in stages. Part II to come tonight, with a possible Part III tomorrow. Strap yourselves in, folks …)
I’m using the phrase “second honeymoon” in the title of this entry with some trepidation. You see, the Supermodel’s and my first honeymoon was something of a disaster. It was raining when we left Stockton, and we didn’t even get to our destination – Gleneden Beach, Oregon – on the first night. Instead, stopped by a snowstorm, we spent our wedding night at the Motel 6 in Weed, California, a town that probably wouldn’t exist if it weren’t for Interstate 5 running through it. When we finally got to Gleneden Beach the next day, it was at the start of three days of non-stop rain, and when we insisted on persevering and going sightseeing anyway, we ended up totaling our car. Thanks to my father-in-law, we were able to get a rental car and come home, cutting the trip short by two days. It was a good thing we didn’t believe in omens, or we might have just gotten an annulment right then. So the word “honeymoon” carries an ironic tone in our household.
Our trip Friday started out quietly, though. We left Stockton a little before 8 a.m. and pointed the car south on I-5. We had packed a couple of shopping bags of snack foods, so we didn’t have to stop for anything but gas, bathroom breaks and chances for the Supermodel to stretch her legs. As we approached Bakersfield, we had to make a decision about destinations – south to L.A.? west to the coast? east to Nevada? – and chose east. Around noon, we stopped in Barstow, gassed up, used the facilities and picked up a copy of the Las Vegas newspaper to do some early scouting. Then it was off on I-15, setting the cruise control at the speed limit of 70 and occasionally interjecting “Viva Las Vegas”, which didn’t last long since neither of us knew the rest of the lyrics.
Everything was smooth until fourteen miles east of Baker, when I checked the rear view mirror and saw white smoke coming out the back of our car.
Read the rest of this entry »