But on April 16, 2011, it came time for Chris to relocate across the country yet again. The roar of the engine of the Truck With No Doors was heard for miles around as it awoke from its slumber, and Bino gleefully piled into the passenger side to accompany his friend on another trek across the American Situation--this time to New Orleans.
The trip got off to a slow start yesterday. We got out to the SF bay area about an hour later than intended for a final brunch with Sarah Harriman and an old friend and UCSC classmate of ours, Alex. Miles, Nicholas, you were missed.
Finally, at about 1pm we got on the road in the direction of our first objective: Flagstaff, AZ. With only a brief stop at a Sonic Burger in Bakersfield, it was less than 13 hours later that we had chewed up all of the intended pavement.
Strangely enough, it has been years since I have been to Flagstaff. Despite spending almost every Christmas in Phoenix, I seem to regularly turn down the offer to go "up to the snow". In the light of the next day, I decided that the place looks like some kind of fusion of Santa Cruz and Placerville with New Age bookstores alongside vegan cafes, all occupying vintage, Old Westey-type buildings. After a leisurely lunch at Macy's (the aforementioned cafe, not the clothing store) we again found ourselves unable to get on the road until 1.
Dinner was family-style dining at the Frontier in Albuquerque where we also picked up some coffee and supplies for the long night ahead--we had big plans to make it all the way to Wichita Falls. After passing through many small towns such as Clarendon (home of the It'll Do Motel and the Nuttin' Fancy Diner) we rolled into the parking lot of the Motel 6 outside of Wichita Falls at 5am local time--only to be turned away by the attendant. Heads held high, we traveled around the corner to America's Best Value Inn and found dubious accommodations therein. The lengths of buildings face into a large, weed-choked courtyard containing a lonely barbecue-on-wheels, and a small playground set that I'm sure no child has ever truly had fun on. Inside our room, a stained and burn-marked love seat block off access to the door leading to the next unit. Upon opening the bathroom door we were greeted by a solitary housefly and a paper banner, limp and askew around the toilet seat, assured us that it was "sanitized."
