I can't believe I drove the whole thing

What you can you a say about a three-journey made in just two days?

Well, I say I survived it.

Day 1 Sunday, Dec. 28th

I rose early, I had breakfast my with my aunt and uncle. I stowed my gear in my truck, said goodbye to my Uncle's dog Chessie and my counsin Don's dog Simmie. And then bid farewell to my Aunt and Uncle, who were kind enough to have a cup of coffee with me. "You're actually leaving at 7:00 a.m.," my uncle said. "Yes, I'll get coffee at Starbucks and breakfast on the road." Which I did, getting a couple of chocolate chip bagels at a Eisntein Brothers Bagels and an iced coffee at Starbucks. By 7:30, I was on my way out of Austin. My odometer read 136602. I drove back the way I came, east on U.S. Highway 290. There was a light drizzle from Dripping Springs to the Junction of I-10, but little traffic on the road.

Once I reached I-10, the skies were clear from the Llano river all the way west. There was very little traffic on the interstate and I was able to keep my Toyota pickup running along at a speed of 75-80 mph almost the entire way. I had lunch at the Cafe Next Door in Ozona Texas. I had hoped to reach El Paso, but I was able to make it to Las Cruces, NM by 5:30 p.m. It was just getting dark and I was brain dead but pleased with my progress.

Day 2 Monday, Dec. 29th

I left the Ramada parking lot in Las Cruces at 7:10. My odometer read 137245 miles. I was hoping to make to Blythe or Indio California by evening. But again, there was no traffic on I-10 from Las Cruces to Tuscon. Once I got out of Tuscon, I drove north until I reached the junction of Interstate 8 which hugs the border and goes through Yuma and San Diego. Fortunately there was a way to bypass Phoenix by taking I-8 and then connecting to I-10 by using AZ Hwy 85. So I got back on I-10 about 37 miles west of Phoenix and avoided the downtown Phoenix traffic.

I reached Blythe, California about 3:30 p.m. I had hoped to travel a couple of more hours and then find a room for the night. But by the time I reached the Indio area, I encounted three problems, first it was dark. The second problem was that I got caught in the flow of heavy rush-hour like traffic from Indio all the way through San Bernadino. The third problem was that I was stricken with indecisiveness. Everytime I'd see a sign for a motel, I would be swept past it by the pace of traffic or I'd refuse to exit the interstate due my unwillingness to get off the highway. So on I drove. Before I knew, it I was climbing Cajon Pass.

I got off I-10 at Victorville. Now I was about 140 miles from Bakersfield. Unfortunately, I was heading north on what I now refer to as the Highway to Hell, U.S. 395. It was only 42 miles from Victorville to Kramer's Junction. How bad could it be? I asked myself. Well, let's find out I replied.

I found out. It was very bad, scary bad. Driving down that highway, I became convinced that the designer of that highway was either Satan or someone satanically possessed. Highway 395 is scary to drive during the day. It is mostly a two-lane ribbon of concrete that is laid over miles of small hills so it feels like you're riding a roller coaster when you drive it. It goes through several small communities, so it is has intersections with traffic lights, and turn lanes spaced at odd intervals along its route. When it is going through those communities, it. It also has a couple of passing lanes which have signs 20 miles out say "passing lane 5 miles." Ten miles later, you'll see another sign saying passing lane 2 miles. By then I was usually leading a queue of five or ten drivers who were all eager for me to pull over and let them be on their way.

One idiot actually passed me just a half mile short of the passing lane. Unfortunately 395 has narrow shoulders and there was a solid stream of truck traffic heading the other way. Normally when you drive at night, you use bright lights sparingly and dim them when other cars approach. But not on 395 it's too hilly. It was some of the scariest driving I have ever done, 42 miles of sheer terror which I crossed in about an hour. At 8 p.m., I was eating at the Roadhouse Restaurant in Kramer's Junction.

The drive east on CA Hwy 58 was fast and coming down through the mountains between Tehachapi and Bakersfield nearly as scary has the drive over Hwy 395, but it was four-lane almost all the way, which allowed me to reach my house in Bakersfield by 10 p.m., just in time for the British TV program Top Gear. My odometer read 138154, I had driven 909 miles.

So what can I say about my road trip? I'm glad I took it. I had become distant from my aunt and uncle and my two cousins. I had a wonderful time, bought cycling stuff at a Lance Armstrong's bike shop, toured the world headquarters of Whole Foods Market, and had listened to Austin country music. I had eaten barbecue at the County Line Barbecue and chicken fried steak at Waterloo Ice House, so I felt like I had an authentic "Texas" experience. I like Austin and if I had been able to go to school, work and live there, like my cousin Mark, I would have considered myself a lucky fellow. But I am very lucky to live in Bakersfield, and I don't think I'll be moving any time soon. My mother once asked me if I had ever considered moving back to the Midwest. I told her no. All my problems were here and Bakersfield is probably where all the solutions to those problems are as well. "No matter where you go, there you are," as D. L. Mennard once told me.

Capitano Tedeschi

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