And when you’re coming all the way from Austin, Texas, you remember it forever!
Overall, I had an unexpectedly good time driving out here. I came alone, except for Zoey, my sweet labrador mix, and the lack of conversation was actually pretty cool. Here’s a little synopsis of my trip:
Day 1: I packed a bunch of stuff into my bitchin’ camaro and gave the house one last look. Even though I was bringing Zo-meister, I was able to fit a TV, a computer, and six months’ worth of stuff into my tiny car.
Then I headed to NI to say good-bye to Gus. That part sucked. Let’s talk about something else.
My first stop (less than two hours into the drive) was Fredericksburg. I had heard of the town, but didn’t know it was on my route. Even if I had known, I wouldn’t have made plans to stop there. However, since the all of the goods and services the town has to offer are splayed out on Highway 290 like a cheap whore, I was compelled to stop and check it out.
Fredericksburg is kind of peculiar. Lots of old people sit outside of stores on benches, although their affiliation with the stores or anyone in them is difficult to determine. People were generally nice, although I was obviously an out-of-towner and some of the funny looks I got told me they weren’t ready for tourist season yet.
First, I bought some sugared pecans for my roommate-to-be. Then I stopped in a courtyard and messaged some people on my new Sidekick II. I’d had the thing for less than 24 hours, and I’ve never been one to neglect a new toy. As I continued walking down the street and texting people, I remembered this thing had a camera too. I took a handful of pictures, but they don’t really encapsulate the experience. And now that I have them on my computer, they’re in the wrong format or something. :-p
I also got some tasty flavored salsa and some special dog treats for Zoey since she was having trouble eating her food on the road. Of course, when I feed her the first treat, she spits it out before reluctantly eating it. *sigh*
Anyway, the town was clean and pretty, and I’d like for Gus and I to go back for a visit (but still not during tourist season).
I met an uneventful fate as I continued through West Texas. I tuned into a few conservative AM stations and listened to people debate about Terri Schiavo. I also listened to some popular radio and for the first time, heard Jimmy Eat World’s “The Middle” and found it somewhat meaningful instead of silly.
When I finally got to El Paso, the sun was setting and I was driving West. Not the best combo when you’re on a five-lane highway and might as well be driving in Mexico. I was relieved to find my exit, but less so when I found I’d gone the wrong way and ended up in downtown El Paso.
Downtown El Paso is a cross between San Antonio and Nuevo Laredo. There were a lot of shops containing crap that no one needs, and like any downtown area, things were closing down at dusk. I let Zoey pee and began traveling up and down Mesa Street to look for my motel. I spent the red lights texting Daniel because I had no idea where I was and couldn’t see the motel from the road. It took forever to find, but it was cheap and functional. Except for the TV remote. That didn’t work at all.
Although a giant Mexican family had set up shop in what seemed to be the surrounding three rooms, I managed to get a good night’s sleep thanks to earplugs supplied to all SXSW registrants by ASCAP.
Day 2: I woke up super-early and got the hell outta dodge. Although there is generally a lot of cross traffic between El Paso and Las Cruces, I made it to New Mexico with few delays.
I love how everyone goes at least five or ten miles over the speed limit. As I reached the long stretch of road that would take me to Arizona, there was a sign that read, “Speed monitored by aircraft”. As if I’m not paranoid enough! In reality, I didn’t spend much time looking for planes, and the people zooming by at 90 mph in the left lane didn’t seem to either.
I spent the hours before my arrival in Tucson (another place I didn’t know was on my route) sampling the contents of my SXSW bag. The earplugs were superb, but not the sole purpose of the registration bag. I listened to the Filter Magazine CD, which contained artists like Billy Idol, Garbage, and Beck, among other talented lesser-known artists. I also listened to the Astralwerks sampler CD, which I knew was good and enjoyed the reminder. Then I listened to an EP from Ultrasonic (?) 78, an okay-sounding moody-girl kinda band.
An hour outside of Tucson, I stopped at a rest area near Texas Canyon. The mountains on either side were enormous and beautiful, so I took a couple of pictures. You can’t see those either.
I stopped to eat at El Pollo Feliz in South Tucson. Yes, the name alone was what enticed me. If some bird is gonna be my food, it better be happy about it!
The restaurant was run by a group of young Mexican ladies who didn’t speak English. They let me bring Zoey in while I ate, which was wonderful. The food was really good (but since I ate at Taco Cabana the night before, I guess it’s all relative). Zoey busied herself by capturing a few flies in her mouth while I ate. The girls thought this was hilarious and we started talking about Zoey. I liked how they just spoke to me in Spanish, unlike when I travel to Spanish-speaking countries and everyone assumes I’m a dumb American and speaks to me in limited English. It’s funny that I get more practice speaking Spanish in the US than I do abroad.
One of the girls felt along Zoey’s underbelly and said something I didn’t understand. She said something about babies, but it didn’t register that she was speaking of the size of Zoey’s nipples. She asked another girl what word she was looking for and came back with “boobies”, which I found incredibly funny because I only hear that word uttered by young children and immature men. The oldest one asked me if she was a mama. I said no, but tried to explain that I’ve only had her for six months, so I don’t know what she’d been up to for the last four years.
I cruised through the rest of Arizona watching the border patrol work its magic on at least half a dozen cars along the way. I hit some traffic in Phoenix, so I decided to drive through instead of stop and look around like I’d planned. If traffic was going to be that slow at 3pm, I didn’t want to see it at 5.
A little bit later, I spent an unexpected road closure reacquainting myself with Frank Sinatra and the band, Gus Gus. My Sidekick crapped out because I forgot to charge it, so instead of calling Gus (singular) again, I tried to play Super Puzzle Fighter on my Gameboy. It didn’t work so well as we started inching along, so I had to put it away and stare vacantly out the window for an hour.
I saw tumbleweed bouncing across the street and the species of cacti that was the generic shape of what we all think of when someone says “cactus”. But that wasn’t enough to keep me in Arizona.
I crossed the California border and once again, the sun was setting in my eyes. I stopped to get gas and wait it out. I was lucky to come upon a cafe with a patio next to it where I could actually sit down and eat a regular meal with Zoey in tow. Lucky me, twice in a row!
The sun had almost set once I got back on the road. Seeing the colors over the mountains was very beautiful. As I approached Indio, I saw a maze of bright lights in the valley and a spotlight near some mountains. I figured a hotel in or around Indio would be fairly inexpensive since Coachella wasn’t happening for another month. When I drove into the city, I was greeted with the sign “Welcome to Indio, City of Festivals”. Goddamn logic! I spent the night at the Royal Plaza Inn because the people who work
at the Super 8 there are dicks and no one should stay there. The lady at Royal Plaza told me there were some things happening this weekend, plus a movie was being filmed there, so a lot was going on. I spent several times more money on that room than I had the previous night, but the working remote and near silence made it worth it.
Day 3: I woke up early and walked Zoey around the block. I took some pictures of palm trees that are temporarily unavailable (erg) and watched a couple of hot air balloons fly over the mountains in the distance. Props to the dudes with the “balloon trip at sunrise” plans – you’re gettin’ laid tonight buddy!
The one picture that actually transferred to my computer as a JPG is one I took of some flowers. It’s probably the least interesting of the lot, but here ya go:
Then, I got back on the road and headed to LA. Traffic started to get hairy an hour before I reached any semblance of a city, so I expected some delay. When I saw that I-10 West was now a route to Santa Monica, the delay was entirely my doing. While looking for a place to get off the highway, I noticed an exit for 101 coming up. The place I’ll be working is right off of 101 near San Jose, so I naturally wanted to go that way. But as logic had failed me before, I didn’t want it to fail me again.
I pulled over on Sunset Boulevard to look at a map and hopefully see something cool. I saw many cool things, like the Hollywood sign, some interesting buildings, and beautiful hilly landscape, but the internet on my Sidekick was choking at me, so I messaged Erik, a guy I met at Barfly’s over a year ago.
I intended to ask him just to look up a map for me, but as luck would have it, Erik knew the area somewhat. He advised that I take 101, although it is an eight-hour trip, as opposed to a five-hour trip when you take the 5. As he put it, “It’s everything you think of when you think of California.” Since I had some time, I decided to do what I had planned to do anyway, but with a little more peace of mind than I would have felt otherwise.
Erik was right, of course. I saw mountains, the coast, and vineyards. I was truly in the middle of nowhere, but for the first time in a long time, it was beautiful and I wanted to stay. I listened to house music the whole way up, including an old mix from East Coast Boogiemen (it worked just fine for the West Coast too) and Coy West’s “Dark Meat” mix. I kept rolling down the window attempting to catch a whiff of some salty sea air, but I smelled mostly rubber and diesel. I guess you can’t have it all.
As I pulled into Mountain View, I found I’d made excellent time, which was good since the car was starting to smell kinda “doggy”. With a few twists and turns, I found my new temporary home and met my new temporary roommate.
The house is an plain single-story on the corner of a bank of six. The neighborhood is lined with cute little houses with gorgeous well-maintained lawns, most of which contain multicolored flowerbeds. Most of the neighborhood is shaded by enormous trees and the grass is finer and softer than in Texas. There’s a trail and park nearby where I can walk Zoey, and a dog park is further up if we’re ever feeling adventurous. It’s a lot like my old neighborhood, but prettier. And the several people I’ve run into so far were very friendly.
While no roommate could top living with Gus, Christmas, and Delan, I think that living with my roommate, Larry, will work out fine. He’s in his thirties, owns a window-washing business, plays loud rock music (living room = recording studio) and smokes medicinal marijuana (it’s legal here!). If he continues to be good about staying quiet at night and not smoking in my room, living here is gonna be swell.
Zoey is still getting used to sharing a house with two other dogs (both are friendly dalmatians), but Larry isn’t fazed by their barking or wrestling. He seems pretty confident that they’ll get used to each other, and I’m inclined to agree.