And, I am home. Got back early and washed my car in a hand wash facility. Used foam on the front. While drying off rims, I noticed a matching pair of scrapes to the LF rim: so, the LR damage was not because of the encounter with the edge of the road: these were caused by that damned, thrice bepoxed car wash "tunnel" in Atlanta. I do not know how to line up for a tunnel. I quickly touched up the spots and went to Costco, then home.
Driving through NE there were glorious patches of sunflowers.
And in Wyoming the clouds were the dominant feature.
Here's a recap of yesterday's highlights (ironically the high point was at the end of my drive, i.e. after I got back to my home turf):
I got gas in western NE, where I was in great need to pee (a rhyme
), and at the end of the exit I found the stop sign upon me sooner than expected, because I was looking intently for the way over to that gas station; so I rather sailed around the corner on the edge, i.e. totally missed the stop (oh, I could have engaged the ABS by really standing on the brakes, but I so hate doing that). As I turned into the gas station I saw the lights going on top of the SUV in my rearview mirror. Damn, a cop. Oh, WELL??!! I pulled up to the pump and got out; and that was a big mistake. "Sir, could you get back into the vehicle. I won't argue with you." "I need to go really bad," I tried to explain. And he wasn't having any of it. The tenseness of the situation actually helped: the need to go diminished. He got my papers and let me go to the restroom. I started across the asphalt and then recollected: turning back I got my CCW permit out and handed it to him with an apology. "Are you carrying now?" He asked. And when I said yes, he said: "This is what I am talking about. That is why you should never exit the vehicle when you get pulled over. Here I am sitting in mine and here you are standing outside armed and I don't know you from Adam." I apologized again and said, "But I gave it to you!" (i.e. I didn't have to do that and just made more trouble for myself). When I came back to the car his sunglasses were up on his head and his eyes were bright and cheerful (and care worn). I began to have hope. (He had been so "coply" that I had muttered under my breath as I went to pee, "What a jerk!") The nature of our "conversation" changed. He said he was only giving me a warning. (! number four!) Then he asked about my car, said he'd seen them when he helped his son get an Optima: and he said he was looking at the
Telluride. After a final injunction to obey stop signs, he wished me a good rest of my day.
After I got gas in Nebraska (not sure, now, where that was) I noticed that NAV had adjusted the route without asking me. Instead of the straight shot to I-215 at the mouth of Parley's, "she" was telling me to get off I-80 and onto some road called "Pilot Butte", which is aka the "80 Business Loop". Well, I refused! NAV has been doing these things "on her own" and they are at times simply capricious. For example, the way she told me to turn left out of the Cracker Barrel driveway (see above). Now "she" seemed to be doing it again. "I refuse!" I said aloud. And when the loop exit came I went right on by, sticking to I-80. That was when I noticed that I had lost a full half hour of my projected travel time: instead of estimating home as something like c. ten to seven, now NAV said I was only going to get there at c. seven-thirty! WTH just happened?
Then I noticed that "she" was telling me to get off at something called the "Emory" exit. No amount of zooming in via the infotainment screen would show me an auxiliary road: it looked as if NAV was going to drive me off the freeway into a field or worse!? But, when I got there, the exit indeed existed
and I took it. After losing my half hour, I recommitted to just letting NAV do the navigating. It's "her car", after all!? I just steer (when I'm not being doubting and stubborn).
Things started to get interesting right away. The road parallels I-80 and in fact bears that designation: thus NAV's inability to show anything else. But there I was, galumphing along on a 40 MPH "highway" at something like 60 to 80 MPH: and the surface was dicey to almost bad but not quite bad enough to be scary. But why was I told to go HERE? The freeway traffic to my left was sailing along in that 80 MPH section and passing me up. This was supposed to be faster? I was not believing it but kept calm and waited to see what happened next. Still, I felt like Sid Ceasar in "It's a Mad, Mad ... World", watching from the biplane as the cars all went faster below.
The cliffs came closer on my right until they literally overhung the road. It was starting to look Dr Seusian.
I started to enjoy myself: a lot more than on the boring interstate.
'
Traffic was totally lacking till I neared the end of Echo Canyon Rd, then it started to come thick the other way, including an 18 wheel rig!? How in the world would it make the cliff overhang if it came the other way (my way, south)? Probably just barely gets under it.
I went through Henefer, without knowing what the name of the place was until I Googled it later. Henefer. Heh!
It has always conjured up the ultimate "hick town" in Utah. The few people I've met from there are all hicks. But, I love hicks, I gotta say. It's pretty! Neat as a pin. I'd like living in Henefer.
(The approach to Henefer involved one, final fubar by NAV - "she's" not infallible, go figure: A mysterious "turn to the left", marked by the approaching countdown in tenths of a mile, then feet, then 10', and NOTHING: the instant flashed by as if it had never been: had I been as the two guys in the "drive into a pond and blame it on Siri" video, I'd have ended up straddling the railroad tracks!? Heh!? And She wonders why I doubt her. It is a deepening relationship as we both feel our way forward.
)
The road out of Henefer is UT-65. That struck a chord. And as soon as East Canyon Reservoir appeared everything became clear. "I was just here a little while ago!" I said aloud. "NAV, you gorgeous creature! You just want me to have FUN!" (In my metaphysical mind, She said: "Come with me, man-child, and I will show you where the twisty roads grow!" On top of that revelation: even with the delays to sight-see, I still got home when "she" said I would. I begin to feel like I live in a kind of time warp when I am with this car: maybe "she" is a Pooka.)
We twisted our way up the familiar switchbacks and curves, to the top, where I pulled off at the overlook (which I had completely overlooked before, heh). There was an outhouse which I made instant use of. Then I took pics. And I talked to a couple of motorcycle guys; one very experienced German-accented guy teaching a friend how to ride his new bike on "the twisty bits". He told ME about MY roads; exclaiming that although 65 is a fine road for fun, Pine Canyon Drive, between Midway and Guardsman Pass is the best.
This I could readily agree with, having driven it recently myself. He spoke "glowingly" of the turn that is a decreasing radius and past the one-eighty point: I know about this curve! He said that bikers have been known to enter "too hot" and either fly off the road or lay the bike down, their only two choices. I'm sure I was grinning the whole time he was talking, because my mouth got tired.
He finished up with: "Well, enjoy the 'twisty bits'."
Anyway! Great way to end four, count 'em four, long, full days of driving: starting with the Tail of the Dragon and finishing up with our own mini version of the same. Thank you NAV! You're my girl!
When 65 rejoined I-80, all the traffic was going up the canyon; rush hour-like density. On our side, hardly anything at all.
The irony of all this is, of course, that I just returned from a three day road trip, at the beginning end of which I drove Hwy 129 (Tail of the Dragon); only to be reminded when I got back, that I don't need to go anywhere to find great driving roads.
