It was a pretty quiet ride from Selma to Montgomery; after all, it was the least I could do to pay homage. Dr. King and his friends marched the same route in the name of equality, at first getting attacked while attempting to do so. I drove with air conditioning and a Diet Coke.
I almost died on that stretch of road, not from tear gas or police baton, but from a reckless driver who tried to play chicken with me; I crossed into his lane to pass up the car in front of me and apparently, he saw my maneuver as a challenge and sped up. Luckily though, I managed to veer into the grassy center divider before depriving this world of my precious existence. I think my car is making a weird noise from that little off-road session, but I can't be sure of its severity.
Come to think of it, I think I also almost died somewhere in Texas, when I drove straight through a lightning storm of biblical proportions. I could see the bolts of sheer electricity hit the ground mere hundreds of yards away from me. If that didn't reaffirm my belief in God, nothing would. I managed to take a rather tame video of the storm, but only after I drove through the worst parts. In the midst of it all however, I couldn't take my hands off the wheel for even one second to capture the true measure of the meteorological apocalypse unfolding before my fear-struck eyes.
I'm remiss to omit the other states I chanced upon. Somewhere between Here, Alabama, and Home, California, also were: Arizona, New Mexico, Louisiana, and Mississippi. The problem is that other than an unreasonably recalcitrant windshield wiper rebellion in Louisiana, nothing really happened during most of my journey-- proof positive that adventures feed upon the life force of traveling companions.
The entire trip was essentially a realization of a long-standing dream to drive across America. Certainly, it wasn't the route I would've taken, nor was it with any of my friends, but at least it was on the government's dime and not mine. At the very least, it allowed me to see much of the South, while affording me plenty of time to think (typically a dangerous proposition for me).
Interestingly enough, the last time I had that much time to let my mind wander was when I first shipped out from California to Texas. Almost a year ago, actually. On this occasion though, I had twice the time to ponder and only a fraction of the mental anguish.
What a difference a year makes.
I almost died on that stretch of road, not from tear gas or police baton, but from a reckless driver who tried to play chicken with me; I crossed into his lane to pass up the car in front of me and apparently, he saw my maneuver as a challenge and sped up. Luckily though, I managed to veer into the grassy center divider before depriving this world of my precious existence. I think my car is making a weird noise from that little off-road session, but I can't be sure of its severity.
Come to think of it, I think I also almost died somewhere in Texas, when I drove straight through a lightning storm of biblical proportions. I could see the bolts of sheer electricity hit the ground mere hundreds of yards away from me. If that didn't reaffirm my belief in God, nothing would. I managed to take a rather tame video of the storm, but only after I drove through the worst parts. In the midst of it all however, I couldn't take my hands off the wheel for even one second to capture the true measure of the meteorological apocalypse unfolding before my fear-struck eyes.
I'm remiss to omit the other states I chanced upon. Somewhere between Here, Alabama, and Home, California, also were: Arizona, New Mexico, Louisiana, and Mississippi. The problem is that other than an unreasonably recalcitrant windshield wiper rebellion in Louisiana, nothing really happened during most of my journey-- proof positive that adventures feed upon the life force of traveling companions.
The entire trip was essentially a realization of a long-standing dream to drive across America. Certainly, it wasn't the route I would've taken, nor was it with any of my friends, but at least it was on the government's dime and not mine. At the very least, it allowed me to see much of the South, while affording me plenty of time to think (typically a dangerous proposition for me).
Interestingly enough, the last time I had that much time to let my mind wander was when I first shipped out from California to Texas. Almost a year ago, actually. On this occasion though, I had twice the time to ponder and only a fraction of the mental anguish.
What a difference a year makes.
4 comments:
Well written and thought provoking as usual. Scary though. I'm glad you're OK. Your storm video blew mine away! That's one thing I kind of miss living in California.
I hope you have fun at 'No lieutenant left behind.'
If you want any tips for weekend trips, I'd love to share; call me.
I thought I pared down the video to about 30 seconds or so. I guess I uploaded the wrong version. Or I have no idea what I'm doing. In life.
Sean, it doesn't look like my flight relishes hanging out with each other for extended periods of time. Most of them are recently accessed, so they've still got their own set of friends from their commissioning source. Shame, really.
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