Eastward, ho!

I am beginning to type from the land of the big sky. And I mean big. Somehow, Texas topography is different from Kansas. I can't put my finger on it, but they do differ somehow.

Greg and I left L.A. around noon on Saturday, driving a 16-food Penske truck (only 1/3 full) and pulling my scrumtrelescent Xterra. Be it known that I, Jennifer, did pick up said 30-foot monstrosity at the Centinella location and did drive it through Friday evening traffic to then successfully parallel park it (on the first try) across the street from our apartment. Melanie helped.

At the intersection of da 10 and 15-N, we met up with every Californian on the way to losing their savings in Las Vegas in honor of the New Year. So much for making good time – our first day's average was 44 mph. Anyone who knows Greg will be amazed by that statistic. We continued to get our kicks on Route 66, making camp in Kingman, AZ, the first night.


Kingman was surprisingly cold the next morning, with temperatures below freezing. After stopping by the world's best-preserved impact-collision crater (aptly named 'Meteor Crater') near Flagstaff (see accompanying photo), we made it to Albuquerque by the skin of our teeth, meeting dense fog and 1.5-foot snow drifts as we arrived.


By the way, who knew that it snows in New Mexico? I mean, it's new MEXICO. That references a land 'south of the border' and means 'sunny', no? Well, there was a 200+ mile closure on I-40 between Albuquerque and Tucumcari due to inclement weather on Monday. Getting out of Albuquerque that morning was a miracle, I tell you. We averaged 2 mph over a 40-or-so-mile stretch just because of killer ice. It was not for the faint of heart, or me. Mostly me. There were no fewer than 6 abandoned cars, trucks and semis on or just off the roadway.

We had Chinese for lunch in the sleepy town of Tucumcari (pronounced took-um carry) at the least-varied buffet I have ever encountered - a total of 16 options. This number sounds high, but mentally re-visit any buffet you've tried and count the options. See? The third day brought us to Oklahoma City. I played the song from the musical as we passed the state line – Greg accused me of trying to turn him gay. I replied that I was sure Melanie would come to get me, even in Oklahoma.

Torri has turned out to be a fairly good travel cat. She has passed a large portion of the trip sleeping on my lap or looking out the window. She is the best cat ever. This last day has been the least eventful, although I hesitate to even pen those words as we are still 2 hours outside Cape Girardeau. We are trying to ascertain whether we have a headlight out or the full moon is bright enough to shame the puny wattage.

Greg and I will be traveling to Memphis this weekend, and I am even more excited to travel to Chattanooga for Susan's wedding the end of this month!!