Still Later Wednesday Afternoon; via Cable from Florida --
In the previous post, I told briefly about having continued past St. Louis, through Obamaland to sleep overnight in Kentucky. I need to take the reader back a bit to tell about the most harrowing experience of the whole four-day trek: the journey through St. Louis. The Grand Mother had expressed some concern about our planning to go by/through/around St. Louis. Perhaps she was remembering the time (October 1989, I believe) when we drove this same rig through the western edge of St. Louis -- during rush hour! Grumpy managed to get through it all -- although the Grand Mother aged several years with worry as cars and trucks were cozy on all sides most of the time as we literally "inched" along. What's to worry about; the Son and Grumpy were driving through St. Louis late at night -- around 10 or 10:3o, as I recall. Traffic should be light, right? WRONG!!
The Grand Mother was right to worry. The I-64 "freeway" through St. Louis is by far the worst-engineered, worst-signed highway on which Grumpy has ever driven. It is intersected on both the right and left by other freeways coming through the center of town. Typically, these other highways enter alternately (right, then left, then right again, etc.) -- which really keeps the navigator "guessing" as to which lane he should direct the driver to be in in order to negotiate the next nearly-90 degree turn! Note that Grumpy referred to the "navigator" as giving directions to the "driver"; there is just no way, with the traffic we encountered this late at night, that a lone driver could possibly get through this "rat's maze" without that support. I'm not sure a person could do it even after having made a few practice runs in daylight. No kidding, there were 40 (yes, I said forty!!) exits and on-ramps to deal with in just 25 miles; the path we were to follow went in every direction except straight West in the course of only about one and a half miles!
Anyway, we made it through St. Louis, unscathed and humbled by the experience. Number One Son was especially impressed, when he realized later that he had performed this feat while seeing only half of the big picture. Needless to say, we do not have any photographs of this short segment of our trip. Even crossing the mighty Mississippi and entering Illinois went unnoticed as we "sped" through the city and exited Missouri.
But it is now the next day (Sunday, June 21); we have had a "good" night's sleep in Kentucky (safely out of Obamaland) and have scurried down the road about a half mile from where we parked for the night, to a Waffle House whose presence we duly noted the night before. Why else would we have picked this particular off-ramp for our layover?
Being reminded of a certain previous "adventure" with this rig in the confines of another Waffle House down in Georgia or Alabama somewhere, Grumpy (who was at the helm at this early hour) carefully surveyed the parking lot situation before entering and negotiating the first half of the U-turn he knew he had to complete successfully when breakfast was over. He then parked the rig (far right, barely within the "40 acres" limit) and cut the ignition.
After two hearty breakfasts (we splurged because we knew that WH is the place to eat for a breakfast on the road), we hit the road and soon entered Tennessee -- land of Dolly Parton and good ol' Blue Grass music. The weather was behind us, the blue sky was phenomenal with the broken clouds and green hills contrasting all around us.
Four days on the road and we're going make it "home" tonight!! (From an old truck-driving song Grumpy had in his box of tapes. Except in the song, it was six days on the road ... How we wished our adventure had been that leisurely!!)
As we drove further south-easterly across Tennessee on I-24 and into Georgia, we took advantage of the lowest gasoline price of the trip ($2.359) to fill up for the last time. Further down the road we noticed higher prices, culminating with a price of $2.699 in Green Cove Springs -- the exact same price we paid when we filled up in Seattle before we left! We humbly congratulated each other that we were "just plain good for having been so smart" as to find this fuel stop right where we needed it.
Our troubles were not over! After switching on the transfer pump when our "good" rear tank was down to less than 1/4, Son Ward noted that the gauge seemed to stay at this near-empty reading. Now what, we wondered? Inexplicably, Son Ward suggested we try switching on the previously-inaccessible front tank; voila! it worked!! At least, with the 19 gallons in that tank we would be able to get closer to home before the fuel transfer problem had to be resolved. But then, finally, when the front tank level diminished to about 1/2 full, we decided to switch on the fuel transfer pump, "to see what would happen". This time a pleasant surprise, as we kept on going and going and going -- the gas gauge staying at about half full. We now realized that the fuel consumption was about equal to the fuel transfer pump rate. "Hmm!" thought Grumpy. "The fuel transfer pump used to be able to fill the main tanks faster than the engine could consume it." Could it be that the transfer fuel filter (that filters the fuel upstream of the transfer pump) is partially clogged? Yes, Number One Son and Grumpy decided. Our worries are over. As long as the fuel transfer can at least keep up with our consumption until we get within 1/2 tank range of our final destination, we will have won the contest; the contest to drive 3,100 miles coast to coast, corner to corner of the USA with an old Ford pickup towing an even older Travel Trailer, the entire rig being driven by a still older yet, retired Northrup-Grumman Field Engineer and an absolutely ancient former sheepherder and Boeing controls systems engineer.
Together, the co-drivers had three eyes and three ears. What a pair!! Oh, and of course we had "Greta Garmin" -- the GPS lady who kept telling us where to go.
Upon arriving at the Florida Welcome center on I-24, about 30 miles before merging onto I-10, we stopped to take a few nostalgic "Florida" pictures. Grumpy was fascinated by the palm trees. We both welcomed the brief chance to walk on our two wobbly legs and enjoy the balmy night air. Finally, at 11:30, we pulled in to our final destination -- and a welcoming air-conditioned house -- with a real, full-size (actually, Queen-size!) bed.
It was some trip; unforgettable. A trip of a lifetime.
The Grand Mother was right to worry. The I-64 "freeway" through St. Louis is by far the worst-engineered, worst-signed highway on which Grumpy has ever driven. It is intersected on both the right and left by other freeways coming through the center of town. Typically, these other highways enter alternately (right, then left, then right again, etc.) -- which really keeps the navigator "guessing" as to which lane he should direct the driver to be in in order to negotiate the next nearly-90 degree turn! Note that Grumpy referred to the "navigator" as giving directions to the "driver"; there is just no way, with the traffic we encountered this late at night, that a lone driver could possibly get through this "rat's maze" without that support. I'm not sure a person could do it even after having made a few practice runs in daylight. No kidding, there were 40 (yes, I said forty!!) exits and on-ramps to deal with in just 25 miles; the path we were to follow went in every direction except straight West in the course of only about one and a half miles!
Anyway, we made it through St. Louis, unscathed and humbled by the experience. Number One Son was especially impressed, when he realized later that he had performed this feat while seeing only half of the big picture. Needless to say, we do not have any photographs of this short segment of our trip. Even crossing the mighty Mississippi and entering Illinois went unnoticed as we "sped" through the city and exited Missouri.
But it is now the next day (Sunday, June 21); we have had a "good" night's sleep in Kentucky (safely out of Obamaland) and have scurried down the road about a half mile from where we parked for the night, to a Waffle House whose presence we duly noted the night before. Why else would we have picked this particular off-ramp for our layover?
Being reminded of a certain previous "adventure" with this rig in the confines of another Waffle House down in Georgia or Alabama somewhere, Grumpy (who was at the helm at this early hour) carefully surveyed the parking lot situation before entering and negotiating the first half of the U-turn he knew he had to complete successfully when breakfast was over. He then parked the rig (far right, barely within the "40 acres" limit) and cut the ignition.
After two hearty breakfasts (we splurged because we knew that WH is the place to eat for a breakfast on the road), we hit the road and soon entered Tennessee -- land of Dolly Parton and good ol' Blue Grass music. The weather was behind us, the blue sky was phenomenal with the broken clouds and green hills contrasting all around us.
Four days on the road and we're going make it "home" tonight!! (From an old truck-driving song Grumpy had in his box of tapes. Except in the song, it was six days on the road ... How we wished our adventure had been that leisurely!!)
As we drove further south-easterly across Tennessee on I-24 and into Georgia, we took advantage of the lowest gasoline price of the trip ($2.359) to fill up for the last time. Further down the road we noticed higher prices, culminating with a price of $2.699 in Green Cove Springs -- the exact same price we paid when we filled up in Seattle before we left! We humbly congratulated each other that we were "just plain good for having been so smart" as to find this fuel stop right where we needed it.Our troubles were not over! After switching on the transfer pump when our "good" rear tank was down to less than 1/4, Son Ward noted that the gauge seemed to stay at this near-empty reading. Now what, we wondered? Inexplicably, Son Ward suggested we try switching on the previously-inaccessible front tank; voila! it worked!! At least, with the 19 gallons in that tank we would be able to get closer to home before the fuel transfer problem had to be resolved. But then, finally, when the front tank level diminished to about 1/2 full, we decided to switch on the fuel transfer pump, "to see what would happen". This time a pleasant surprise, as we kept on going and going and going -- the gas gauge staying at about half full. We now realized that the fuel consumption was about equal to the fuel transfer pump rate. "Hmm!" thought Grumpy. "The fuel transfer pump used to be able to fill the main tanks faster than the engine could consume it." Could it be that the transfer fuel filter (that filters the fuel upstream of the transfer pump) is partially clogged? Yes, Number One Son and Grumpy decided. Our worries are over. As long as the fuel transfer can at least keep up with our consumption until we get within 1/2 tank range of our final destination, we will have won the contest; the contest to drive 3,100 miles coast to coast, corner to corner of the USA with an old Ford pickup towing an even older Travel Trailer, the entire rig being driven by a still older yet, retired Northrup-Grumman Field Engineer and an absolutely ancient former sheepherder and Boeing controls systems engineer.
Together, the co-drivers had three eyes and three ears. What a pair!! Oh, and of course we had "Greta Garmin" -- the GPS lady who kept telling us where to go.Upon arriving at the Florida Welcome center on I-24, about 30 miles before merging onto I-10, we stopped to take a few nostalgic "Florida" pictures. Grumpy was fascinated by the palm trees. We both welcomed the brief chance to walk on our two wobbly legs and enjoy the balmy night air. Finally, at 11:30, we pulled in to our final destination -- and a welcoming air-conditioned house -- with a real, full-size (actually, Queen-size!) bed.
It was some trip; unforgettable. A trip of a lifetime.
Too bad you didn't get to stay over in Illinois. I suppose you can console yourselves in the thought that now that he's POTUS, you were in Obamaland the whole time. :D
ReplyDeleteAnyway, great blogging Grampa. Funny stuff and nice to see what you've been up to.
As President of the USA, I respect him; as a politician whose policies may endanger this great country of ours, I worry.
ReplyDeleteIn any case, I don't lose any sleep about it. What was done (election) was done and now we all have to live with it and try to make it work.