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The next day was full of boring, seemingly endless driving through the rest of Texas, New Mexico and part of Arizona. The highlight of the day’s drive was the row of signs you find along I-10 around mile marker 90 or 100 (in New Mexico). These signs are advertisements for a store in the desert that has a little bit of everything any man on the road might need. They proclaimed to having such things as, and I quote, “Rattlesnakes!”, “Moccasins!”, “Agate AND Onyx Bookends!”, “Eagle Figurines!”, “Cookies and Fudge!”, “Bottled Water!”, and of course “Fireworks!”. I tried to get Pat to stop as I needed a nice pair of Moccasins, in hopes of picking up some Indian chicks in the desert, but it just wasn’t in the tight time budget. Phoenix, AZ was the stopping point for day two of the trip. We tried to get the trucker discount again but the toothless woman behind the counter was not budging.
Nathan was beyond giddy at the appearance of the wacky roadside billboard (which is a major player in the great Southwest), and, frankly, I was more than a bit frightened. No way I was stopping for moccasins as I knew he was running low on clean pants. However, we were stocked up on napkins thanks to his peculiar fetish for keeping a California Redwood’s worth of them in the vehicle at all times. Plus, everybody knows Indian chicks live in India, not the deserts of the USA. What a sap.
Wakened by the infamous Beavis and Butthead electronic talking toy, I knew it was going to be a good day. In just a few short hours we would be in California. I was excited about crossing the state line into the place in which we would spend the majority of the trip. Upon crossing the line I was dumbfounded as I declared, “Damn it! California looks exactly the
same as Arizona!” Pat explained that things would begin to look a little more interesting in time and that I should just be patient. He also told me that we were approaching the Coachella Valley, a supposedly prominent street racing scene. http://www.cvsr.net I didn’t see a single street race through the entire valley, needless to say I was a little upset. We passed the big fans that make the desert windy (Pat actually tried to make me believe they made “electricity” out of the wind. Does he think I’m stupid or something?), and we also passed by Glen Helen. We stopped at a truck stop and filled up the trailer with water, at this point we were VERY close to being “there”. A quick trip to Arby’s for lunch and Vons Supermarket for meals to come were all that stood between me and my first ride in the desert.
Peculiar point #57 about Nathan had become crystal clear by this point. The boy must single-handedly keep his cellular phone company in business. Talk about cauliflower ear. He’s on the phone more than a 16 year-old cheerleader who’s “developed” a tad early. Sheesh.
By the way, you owe it to yourself to check out the Coachella Valley Street Racing web site. Spellbinding stuff. Especially the forums. Some true literary giants there.
