cops and cornfields
Driving on flatland proved to be a big relief. Last night, climbing through the Rockies was stressful upon both me and Kimiko. I think we had our first fight. But leaving Denver (and Colorado) behind smoothed things over between the two of us.
I'm sure Colorado is pretty by day, what with all the mountains and whatnot, but at night it's not the most welcoming of places. If it wasn't the mountains imposing their authority, it was the cops. Driving through Utah and Nevada, I saw a total of three police officers. In Colorado, within minutes of crossing the border, I saw two plus a DEA agent.
There were police everywhere. As I descended into Denver, the steep grade and curves caused the speed limit to drop from 75 to 55, and right at the apex of the descent sat a state trooper. I didn't have anything to fear. I was keeping within the posted speed, but as the slope became greater, Kimiko had a tendency to speed up. God forbid she did that going uphill, but I don't want to get into that right now. Like I said, we worked it out. And of course, the state trooper followed close behind the whole way. I had to ride the brake. I couldn't afford a ticket. Plus, you know, the registration expired last month, so...
The trooper peeled off a few exits later and I was able to breathe easy, or as much as the climate up there would allow.
Denver was nice enough, though I only spent about four waking hours there. My host was very nice to take me in at such a late hour and showed me around her neighborhood the next day and even bought me lunch (thanks, Lisa). I got lost on my way out of town, but some dude in Brighton helped me back to the Interstate. It went something like this:
Me: Uh...I must've gotten turned around or something. Do you know how I can get to...
Guy in Brighton: 76, right?
Me: Yeah!
GiB: It happens to everyone.
Me: Is it really that hard to find?
GiB: It splits. You were probably in the left lane.
It should be noted that I was so lost, that I wasn't even on track enough to get lost in the place where he mentioned. He directed me to follow the road the gas station was on for five more miles to get there. He was right, and I was elated.
But not so elated that I could get over the desperation of being completely broke and having my cell phone turned off. You see, I have a check, that I can deposit, but as it turns out, there aren't any Bank of Americas in Colorado, nor any, as I discovered, in the entire state of Nebraska. The closest one is in Des Moines, Iowa, about two or so hours from where I am now in Omaha at a Motel 6, working on a spotty Internet connection. Tomorrow I'll have money and a phone again, and I'll be off to Chicago, where I think I'll do some partying. After that, I've added a stop in Morgantown, W.V. (go Mountaineers!), so I don't have to get stuck paying tolls in the shitty state of Pennsylvania. Plus, I hear Morgantown is lovely place for walking, which is something I really enjoy. Should be in New York by Friday night. I want to talk about Utah, but that's going to have to wait for another time. All I want to do is drink a warm beer and go to sleep.
Trip Rule #3: No Pink Floyd. Ever.
Best Radio Station Thus Far: An all-rock station out of North Platte, Neb. that played Nirvana, A Perfect Circle and MONSTER MAGNET! in the same hour.
Best Thing That Happened Today Other Than Sharing Drinks With a Friend in Denver: I didn't get stuck in the most raging severe thunderstorm I've ever seen. Luckily for me, it was only doing 40 and I was pushing 80.
Most Epic In-Car Sing-a-long: "When You Were Young" by The Killers. I own that shit.
I'm sure Colorado is pretty by day, what with all the mountains and whatnot, but at night it's not the most welcoming of places. If it wasn't the mountains imposing their authority, it was the cops. Driving through Utah and Nevada, I saw a total of three police officers. In Colorado, within minutes of crossing the border, I saw two plus a DEA agent.
There were police everywhere. As I descended into Denver, the steep grade and curves caused the speed limit to drop from 75 to 55, and right at the apex of the descent sat a state trooper. I didn't have anything to fear. I was keeping within the posted speed, but as the slope became greater, Kimiko had a tendency to speed up. God forbid she did that going uphill, but I don't want to get into that right now. Like I said, we worked it out. And of course, the state trooper followed close behind the whole way. I had to ride the brake. I couldn't afford a ticket. Plus, you know, the registration expired last month, so...
The trooper peeled off a few exits later and I was able to breathe easy, or as much as the climate up there would allow.
Denver was nice enough, though I only spent about four waking hours there. My host was very nice to take me in at such a late hour and showed me around her neighborhood the next day and even bought me lunch (thanks, Lisa). I got lost on my way out of town, but some dude in Brighton helped me back to the Interstate. It went something like this:
Me: Uh...I must've gotten turned around or something. Do you know how I can get to...
Guy in Brighton: 76, right?
Me: Yeah!
GiB: It happens to everyone.
Me: Is it really that hard to find?
GiB: It splits. You were probably in the left lane.
It should be noted that I was so lost, that I wasn't even on track enough to get lost in the place where he mentioned. He directed me to follow the road the gas station was on for five more miles to get there. He was right, and I was elated.
But not so elated that I could get over the desperation of being completely broke and having my cell phone turned off. You see, I have a check, that I can deposit, but as it turns out, there aren't any Bank of Americas in Colorado, nor any, as I discovered, in the entire state of Nebraska. The closest one is in Des Moines, Iowa, about two or so hours from where I am now in Omaha at a Motel 6, working on a spotty Internet connection. Tomorrow I'll have money and a phone again, and I'll be off to Chicago, where I think I'll do some partying. After that, I've added a stop in Morgantown, W.V. (go Mountaineers!), so I don't have to get stuck paying tolls in the shitty state of Pennsylvania. Plus, I hear Morgantown is lovely place for walking, which is something I really enjoy. Should be in New York by Friday night. I want to talk about Utah, but that's going to have to wait for another time. All I want to do is drink a warm beer and go to sleep.
Trip Rule #3: No Pink Floyd. Ever.
Best Radio Station Thus Far: An all-rock station out of North Platte, Neb. that played Nirvana, A Perfect Circle and MONSTER MAGNET! in the same hour.
Best Thing That Happened Today Other Than Sharing Drinks With a Friend in Denver: I didn't get stuck in the most raging severe thunderstorm I've ever seen. Luckily for me, it was only doing 40 and I was pushing 80.
Most Epic In-Car Sing-a-long: "When You Were Young" by The Killers. I own that shit.
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