Day 77:
A great afternoon and evening yesterday in Palm Desert with our friends, Dick and Sheila.
Jan and I as a couple have known them for 29 years, and I have known them even longer. Dick and I met as lab partners at UBC in 1965. That is a total of 43 years for he and I, a long time. I can only hope for another 43 years, if possible.
This morning a bit late to rise, but we made it. We knew what was coming and tried to put it off as long as possible, but eventually we had to pack and go, into the traffic jam towards LA. And it was all we feared. We were on I 10 within about 5 minutes, and I missed the gas station before the freeway entrance. No big deal, I thought. Then into traffic, like a bowling ball on an alley crowded with bowling balls, rolling toward the pins in the distance. The I 10 freeway is five lanes wide toward Los Angeles from Palm Desert, a mix of heavy trucks, Porshes, Mercedees, and suburban matrons in their Lexus', all with more horsepower than common sense. First, up a long, long steep hill through an incredible wind farm, then down the other side like kamekazi pilots. On we went, down and around, with the posted speed limit seeming to be the minimum speed allowed, not the maximum. My self-imposed 3000 rpm limit blown out the window, I was doing over 130 kph just to stay out of trouble in the slow lane. Several times I was forced into the 2nd and 3rd lane by merging vehicles, my foot on the floor and boxed in by semi-trailer units at over 140 kph. By this time, Jan had long since quit taking pictures. Her knuckles were white and she was counting off the fractions of kilometers to the next turn or merge or 'stay left' that the GPS was showing us. I was not much better, but slowing down was not an option. Had I been in her seat, a helpless passenger in a sea of chaos, I would have been catatonic.
The mind reaches a zen-like clarity at these times. You can choose to ponder your own fate in the twisted wreckage that must result at any moment now, or see the road with new eyes, sharpened by the nearness of eternity and trailer units that our car would fit neatly underneath with hardly a scrape. I chose the latter, and came to find the experience totally exhillarating. I was sorry when the pace slowed abruptly down to about 20 kph, then to stop and go, finally to mostly stop with a very little go. Then we passed the wreck in the fast lane, and we were back up to 140 kph again in the blink of an eye. Yippee!! Down we went as I-10 became 605 and finally 405 and we merged with other bowling balls rolling south toward Huntington Beach. Jan, nearly incoherent now, counting down the kilometers to the final exit. Me alternating between prayer to gods I don't believe in, and promising Jan that we would go get drunk if we lived though the experience. And the gas guage, since I missed the fill up opportunity in Palm Desert? I watched it drop down and down, to a needle-width from the big 'E', over 685 kilometers on the trip meter from the last fill in Laughlin NV. The first time I have done that, and it will be the last time.
In the end, we lived. We got to the motel, checked in, then went across the street to 'The Lazy Dog' (a restaurant much like the Keg) and got our faces right into the Margaritas and beer. Two or three deep breaths later, reality returned and the shaking stopped. That was pretty much it for the day. We had an early night, tomorrow we see our niece Sheralyn and her family.
