My January, The Final Chapter: Ready to do it again…

As I mentioned last week, I was out of the training classes early on the final day in California. While it would have been fun to lollygag around in the 60-degree weather, my hopes were to make the drive back at a bit more leisurely pace than the trip out was. I decided to split up the travel over an extra day on the way back.
On Thursday, January 20th, after finishing my obligations in California I pointed my vehicle east. I was surprised how much less intimidating the Sierra Nevada mountains were heading home than on the trip out. While it seemed like 50 miles straight down hill when heading west, it actually wasn’t nearly that bad, I noticed, when I didn’t have to worry about a deadline.
I drove past Reno and well into Nevada before stopping for the night. I remember from my trip out, a sign caught my eye that said “Downtown Lovelock.” I contemplated how a town could get a name like that, and tried to remember the last time I myself had had a good downtown lovelock. That was enough to make me pull into Lovelock, Nevada and bed down for the evening. Turns out, Lovelock appeared to be a long-time casino town. There were several older hotels that all seemed to have been constructed some time back in the 1950s. I chose one at random and checked in for the night. It turns out, according to the signed photograph on the front counter that Merle Haggard had stayed at the motel at one time. I figured if the place were good enough for the Okie from Muskogee, it was good enough for me.
While it was most definitely an older décor, it was clean and comfortable, complete with a kitchen and a nice, fast internet connection. This seemed incongruous considering the TV channel lineup still listed “The Nashville Network” on the list. There hasn’t been anything called “The Nashville Network” for many years (it is now called Spike TV).
All in all, though, a pleasant stay, and now, if anyone asks, I can say, “yes, I actually had a downtown lovelock in January…it was great.”
On Friday, the 21st I hit the road again, with the goal of getting to Salt Lake City and picking up a new supply of insulin. It was my misfortune that I was arriving in Salt Lake City at about 5:00 in the afternoon, and the traffic was crazy. My GPS decided to display its sense of humor again, and after several times around several blocks and some very narrow streets, I finally found the Walgreens and scored the rest of my drugs. The bad news was that it was closing in on 7:00 by the time I made my way back to Interstate 80 and resumed my return trip.
With a more flexible travel schedule on my way home, I had the opportunity to stop occasionally and take some pictures that I wished I had taken on the way out. I scored my Tree of Utah picture, but mostly pictures of signs I found amusing. Weird, I know.
Some of my favorite signs I saw during my travels included the sign marking Old Woman Creek and an eating place called 9 Beans and a Burrito. Signs throughout Utah that lectured me about driving drowsy were somewhat entertaining. One sign I saw, I think it was Lusk, Wyoming, was a sign that encouraged people not to drive drunk. It said, “Santa Claus is coming to town. Don’t hit him.” Unfortunately, I was in traffic and didn’t get a picture of that one.
Another of my favorites was a sign marking the Boner Ranch. Owned, I presume, by Mr. and Mrs. Boner and inhabited by several little Boners. Another 50 miles down the road I saw another sign for a ranch. I don’t remember the name of the ranch, it was something like “The Triple R Ranch.” It was the small print at the bottom of the sign that caught my eye. “One of the proud family of Boner Ranches.”
My trip back was mostly uneventful, but I did finally run into some bad weather. Not long after I turned off the interstate in Wyoming, I drove into some whiteout conditions. A group of four or five of us crawled the last five miles into Lusk, Wyoming. It was about 4:00 Saturday afternoon, and the weather had been perfect up until that point. When I learned that teams from a local basketball tournament had been instructed to spend the night in town, I decided I would cut my day short. I checked into a Best Western motel, braved blizzard conditions to make it to the Subway and back for a sandwich, and kicked back to watch a couple of movies on my laptop.
This made my final day of travel, on Sunday, longer than I had hoped and I arrived home at around 7:00 with a back seat full of laundry and a need to sleep in my own home.
People still look at me like I’m nuts when they hear I drove to California and back, but I would make that choice again in a snap. I love driving to begin with. I like being alone with my thoughts or with an exciting audio book. I like the fact that nobody tells me where to sit or when I have to board or when I will be rationed a beverage. I fit into my seat…that’s a big one. I can carry on as many bags as I wish. I can sleep in until I’m rested and entertain myself as late as I wish. If I want an Egg McMuffin for breakfast, then by golly that is what I’ll have.
Never once during my trip did I look down, outside my window, and see lightning. Yikes!
I got to see the U.S.A in my Chevrolet, and thankfully it was somewhat dampened by a bum leg, or I may not have come back. There are thousands of signs out there just waiting to be photographed!