Ok, I really do not need a man around to fix things or put things together. But a man's tools... that's a very different matter.
You know, you spend as many years married as I have and you kind of take certain things for granted. For instance; you need to put together a stereo. You need to strip the little wires in order to plug them into the back of the speakers and the receiver. But you know what my handy-dandy little tool box doesn't have? Wire strippers. (This must be an oversight on my part because it's a pretty well-stocked little tool box.) Over the years past this would not have been a problem. If I couldn't find it in my tool box it was probably available in my husband's.
But now that Jane's Trip is a solo gig, options have changed. Welcome the ever-present, multi-usage, kitchen scissors. I have been fierce in their protection over the past couple of years. They have been pressed into services during that time for which they were never intended. Adolescents have tried to abduct them, abandon them, destroy them, all to no avail. They cut absolutely anything and never seem to dull. Bought 'em for a buck.
So now, the wires are stripped and thanks to the tool boxes of good men (thanks B) they are not laying all over the floor tripping me up. Jane's Trip is now set for sound...
Monday, October 24, 2005
Monday, October 17, 2005
The White Knights of Wyoming: Stories of the Road Episode II
Saturday morning dawned bright and sunny, with the promise of temperatures in the 70's and clear skies for that day's travel. We started our morning just East of the Continental Divide.
The drive progressed pleasantly enough, with little traffic and great conversation as well as sweeping views to either side. Eventually we started downhill having just passed the highest elevation on I-80.
We pulled into a gas station in Point of Rocks, Wyoming for a bit of a pit-stop and some supplies for the road. (Mostly those containing large amounts of caffeine). I was sitting in sun, in the car, waiting for my mother to come out of the store, when I decided to make a couple of purchases of my own. Leaning over to roll up her window and lock the passenger door, I remember consciously thinking that I needed to grab the car keys out of the ignition before exiting the car. Of course, as soon as the thought was registered, I promptly forgot it. Opened my door, flipped the lock and shut it. On the instant that the door latched, I realized the keys were still hanging in the ignition. And everything is locked tight. No problem, I think, I have AAA. One call and I'll be on the road within the hour. And then I realize that my cell phone is locked in the car with the keys.
Within seconds, my car is surrounded by well meaning citizens of Wyoming. In less than 10 minutes they had my car unlocked, without any damage and we were again on our way. Of course after gaining entry it was pointed out that I really didn't need to lock the car. I was in Wyoming.
The drive progressed pleasantly enough, with little traffic and great conversation as well as sweeping views to either side. Eventually we started downhill having just passed the highest elevation on I-80.
We pulled into a gas station in Point of Rocks, Wyoming for a bit of a pit-stop and some supplies for the road. (Mostly those containing large amounts of caffeine). I was sitting in sun, in the car, waiting for my mother to come out of the store, when I decided to make a couple of purchases of my own. Leaning over to roll up her window and lock the passenger door, I remember consciously thinking that I needed to grab the car keys out of the ignition before exiting the car. Of course, as soon as the thought was registered, I promptly forgot it. Opened my door, flipped the lock and shut it. On the instant that the door latched, I realized the keys were still hanging in the ignition. And everything is locked tight. No problem, I think, I have AAA. One call and I'll be on the road within the hour. And then I realize that my cell phone is locked in the car with the keys.
Within seconds, my car is surrounded by well meaning citizens of Wyoming. In less than 10 minutes they had my car unlocked, without any damage and we were again on our way. Of course after gaining entry it was pointed out that I really didn't need to lock the car. I was in Wyoming.
Wednesday, October 12, 2005
How I Got Lost in Puckerbrush Nevada and Other Stories of the Road: Episode I
Well folks, I've just completed a 2,810 mile road trip across the country. I have to say it was fantastic even with the small setbacks we encountered.
I completed the trip on Sunday, but Saturday was really something. 788 miles that day alone. Crossed a third of Wyoming, all of Utah and Nevada. And yes, there really is a town called Puckerbrush, Nevada. Population 28. And yes, I really got lost there.
You see, there is a large truck stop in Puckerbrush. In fact, that is the only thing in Puckerbrush. That and lots of desert. The sun had just set and I needed to refuel... both the gas tank and my stomach. So, of course, I pull off the freeway to attend these needs. Half an hour later I attempt to get back onto the road.
It was now fully dark and when I went back to the freeway on ramp, I discovered that the only ramp was for I-80 Eastbound. Understand that I want Westbound. So I figure that I must have passed the correct on ramp and turn around. I end up back at the truck stop not having seen anything to indicate the direction I need to take.
I look carefully at the signs in front of said truck stop, and they indicate turning left to reach I-80. So, of course I turn left. Again, finding only the Eastbound ramp.
To make a long story short, I repeated these steps several times before finally hitting upon the idea of asking directions at the truck stop. (Understand, that by this time I have spent four days on the road averaging 500 to 600 miles a day and am rather stupid with exhaustion). I am informed by the kindly folk at the gas pumps that I need to turn right when leaving the truck stop and follow the narrow, bumpy road approximately fifteen miles to find the Westbound on ramp. Yes, there used to be a sign indicating this important fact, but it blew down in a storm and the Nevada DOT has not yet seen fit to replace it.
I want send my sincere thanks to the Nevada DOT for their concern and efficiency.
I completed the trip on Sunday, but Saturday was really something. 788 miles that day alone. Crossed a third of Wyoming, all of Utah and Nevada. And yes, there really is a town called Puckerbrush, Nevada. Population 28. And yes, I really got lost there.
You see, there is a large truck stop in Puckerbrush. In fact, that is the only thing in Puckerbrush. That and lots of desert. The sun had just set and I needed to refuel... both the gas tank and my stomach. So, of course, I pull off the freeway to attend these needs. Half an hour later I attempt to get back onto the road.
It was now fully dark and when I went back to the freeway on ramp, I discovered that the only ramp was for I-80 Eastbound. Understand that I want Westbound. So I figure that I must have passed the correct on ramp and turn around. I end up back at the truck stop not having seen anything to indicate the direction I need to take.
I look carefully at the signs in front of said truck stop, and they indicate turning left to reach I-80. So, of course I turn left. Again, finding only the Eastbound ramp.
To make a long story short, I repeated these steps several times before finally hitting upon the idea of asking directions at the truck stop. (Understand, that by this time I have spent four days on the road averaging 500 to 600 miles a day and am rather stupid with exhaustion). I am informed by the kindly folk at the gas pumps that I need to turn right when leaving the truck stop and follow the narrow, bumpy road approximately fifteen miles to find the Westbound on ramp. Yes, there used to be a sign indicating this important fact, but it blew down in a storm and the Nevada DOT has not yet seen fit to replace it.
I want send my sincere thanks to the Nevada DOT for their concern and efficiency.
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