The Drive Down

Now that I’m back, I’ll tell you about the trip.

Wednesday morning, I picked up Rob at 6:15am and hit the road. I was tired, ’cause like most evenings before a trip I couldn’t sleep trying to work out all the possible eventualities ahead of time.

I sucked at this (wait for more blogs).

But at least for the trip down to San Diego, everything went well. The weather in Utah was foggy and there was a bit of snow in Payson. Once past Cedar City, the weather brightened and the temperature got high enough to roll-down the window and I would have if Robby weren’t such a pansy (Robby, by the way, said he never bruises, so imagine a trip where I’m punching Rob every five minutes even during the tragic and wonderful moments–yeah he’s right, he doesn’t bruise).

The hardest decision I had to make during the trip was whether or not to use the I-215 “shortcut” by-passing LA. I decided against this when I saw the jam-up on the overpass. Turns out, the traffic in LA was fine and the “shortcut” probably would’ve taken longer.

Once we were through LA, I called Andy and found out that we were actually heading to Oceanside instead of San Diego and to get off at the 78 instead and drive down to College. What Andy didn’t tell me was how long I was going to have to go on the 78 before hitting College, so I stayed in the right-hand lane for about 15 miles dealing with all the rush-hour dill-holes trying to merge.

Still, the traffic was not bad. I love driving in Calli compared to Utah Valley. People let you merge and contrary to Andy’s opinion, people in Oceanside do know what the turn signal is used for. The biggest difference though is the speed people drive. Traffic really moves in CA and I loved it. Yes there are plenty of DHs there, but they were probably drunk or just wanting to get home.

Even though the 78/College intersection was a tad tricky, the Motel Six was easy to find. The motel itself is not bad. There were mysterious stains on the floor, the bed-spreads were more appropriate to a two-year old’s room and the AC was actually a heater. The room had that familiar smell of the non-smoking designation being routinely ignored, but for WT from Utah, who can complain.

The biggest event of the trip was the homeless guy in Vegas who slept like a dead cockroach (feet, hands and head were suspended about an inch above the ground by I guess magic) and the lines waiting for the quarter slots at the Chevron.

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