The next morning we were full of new hope, bolstered by beer the night before and free waffles for breakfast. We headed out, sure that they would've cleared the roads by then. We reached the same damn small town and realized that we were going to be sorely disappointed. The roads were now even more icy and the "light snow" had begun to fall again. We reached Roswell a couple hours later and stopped at yet another gas station hoping for good news. "Do the roads get better going west towards Arizona?" I asked. I was greeted by another cheery response. "Nope. All roads going west are closed. All roads going south are closed too." I asked "How am I supposed to get to Arizona?" my voice trembling as I'm exhausted and frustrated and on the verge of tears. I was told to try in a couple days. Refusing to miss spending the holiday with my family, I was determined to get to Tucson by Christmas morning. We ended up taking the only road open heading north to Albuquerque. Miraculously, 10 miles north of Roswell the skies opened up and the sun was shining, the roads were cleared and it felt like we were in another world. Or on another planet. Twelve hours later, we pulled into my sister's driveway. There was no fire in the fireplace and her house smells more like organic all natural air freshener than cinnamon and pine, but we were home for Christmas. I was able to wake up with my niece on Christmas and discover what Santa had brought for her. Seeing her play with her new princess house made the entire snow bound-car sick-foot throbbing-post apocalyptic New Mexico landscape-fast food free for all road trip worthwhile. And Roswell, I'm not fooled by your aliens cleverly disguised as monster truck drivers. Where were they going??
Thirtysomething academic pediatric hospitalist practicing in Madison, WI
Wednesday, January 11, 2012
Aliens Abduct Snow Plow Drivers (or how I spent Christmas Eve)
On December 22nd, Jeff and I loaded up the car with Christmas gifts, suitcases, my laptop, beer, a 1lb bag of Twizzlers and a plate of freshly made peanut butter kiss cookies and set off on what was supposed to be a 26 hour road trip to Arizona. Why on earth would you do something so stupid you ask? You're not alone, don't worry. I surmise that the holidays induce some sort of salt o' the earth adventurous spirit that invoke flashbacks of weary travelers arriving at the threshold of a home warmed from the inside by firelight and smelling like cinnamon and pine. Much like the three wisemen. Or something like that. Anyway, the first night consisted of delirious (on my part) conversation while driving late into the night to Kansas City after leaving straight from work after a solid 2 week stretch on a busy service all the while propping my throbbing foot on the dashboard. Oh did I mention that I broke my toe by accidentally kicking my suitcase while packing? So, there was that. The next day we got on the road early, excited for our journey to Roswell, New Mexico and some potential alien sightings. Keep in mind that the weather in the midwest was awesome (you will never again hear me utter that statement) and we had sunny skies and clear roads all the way through that part of our journey. At this point, we were feeling pretty smug about our enlightened decision to drive to Arizona. It's so easy! And so fun! The fast food, the conversation, the sights (once out of Kansas) and the audio books! Our dream came to a halt somewhere between Amarillo and Portales, New Mexico. We heard on the forecast that there was "light snow" in New Mexico. Ok, we're from Wisconsin. Light snow means turn on your windshield wipers. What they didn't tell us was that New Mexico doesn't feel the need to clear the roads of said "light snow". Or salt. Or do much of anything except encourage every resident with a large Chevy truck to get out on the roads and speed. After spending an hour traveling 25 miles, with Jeff white knuckling the steering wheel and me gripping the door handle while trying to identify the edge of the road so that we don't in fact, drive off of it, we stopped at the first gas station we saw. Our plan was to stop short of our goal of getting to Roswell and just spend the night wherever we could find a bed. A bed, however, was not to be had in the town of Elida. "No motels here!" we were cheerily told by two older ladies manning the register. "You can go back the way you came 25 miles or keep going another 65 miles!". Ok, awesome. Thanks New Mexico, for your continuing inhospitality. We ended up driving the same route back the way we came and paid way too much for a room at the Holiday Inn.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment