Another lifeless day on America’s interstates. This is torture, but now that I’m resigned to my fate, I got up early and was out before the break of dawn, where it’s just me and a bunch of truckers hauling stuff across the country. Why anyone would take this route instead of flying is beyond my imagination unless it’s a drive of less than 500 miles, which then makes economic sense. As for the truckers, oh my god, do they have it bad? It’s no wonder they are making pretty good money these days. Incentivized to keep on driving, paid by miles with nothing but junk food along their route, they save time by pissing in bottles and tossing them out their windows, sleeping on off-ramps and rest stops, and having nowhere to walk around. They just drive, grow unhealthy, and then drive some more. I suppose there are also those who are afraid of flying. Maybe this wouldn’t seem so dreadful if I didn’t have 1,454 miles (2,340 km) ahead of me.
Blam! Just like that, I’m 282 miles (453 km) farther across Arkansas, driving into Oklahoma. Only three states to go before I get home, so if this is Thursday, I should easily make it by Saturday.
From the interstate traveling at speed, it wasn’t immediately obvious from my perspective that the facilities at Kellogg’s Korner in Henryetta, Oklahoma, were no longer extant. My bladder wasn’t interested in this minor detail, and though the abandoned gas station and convenience store claimed to be under video surveillance, I had to throw caution to the wind and pee into it. While apparently still in business, the motel next door likely shouldn’t be, as the guests no longer appear to be traveling through and have become permanent residents. Only 50 miles past this place of sweet relief, I left the interstate again, this time for the Catfish Roundup in Seminole, Oklahoma, for what else other than catfish?
Isn’t the scenery grand? I’ve driven 611 miles (983 km) so far, and I’m hardly done. While I could easily leave the interstate and start a meander, I’m set on returning to the hugging arms of that woman so patiently waiting for me in Arizona, allowing me to endure this torture.
A funny thing happened while driving into the sunset by way of a little white lie that began before I reached Shamrock, Texas, on the eastern edge of the Texas Panhandle. I slowed the story by slowing the progress I was making and telling Caroline that I was exhausted and needed a break, which I’d take in Shamrock. She couldn’t know that I was already in Amarillo, Texas, having dinner and considering how far I could get this evening. Knowing that I’d be gaining another hour if I drove into New Mexico, I set my sights specifically on Tucumcari. This 204-mile (329 km) discrepancy in distance would set things up for Caroline to understand that I wouldn’t make it home Saturday and I’d be in on Sunday. Muahahaha (yes, Caroline, the onomatopoeia makes an appearance), my evil plan was fully hatched. You see, I knew I could drive the 588 miles (946 km) home on Saturday, and with another hour saved due to our time zone in Phoenix, I could be home mid-day. Today’s drive of 828 miles (1,333 km) was a grinding chore, but the surprise will have been well worth it.