So, it's been about a month now and I still haven't gotten a new monitor yet. I was gonna wait to post this from my computer, but I guess it doesn't really matter.
After literally packing the night before (my car was literally without any free space at all; this would come into play later on in our story) and some emotional goodbyes the next morning, we finally pushed off. The previous evening I had heard that there would be a storm passing through our area, so we had to make sure to leave early in order to beat it. After a couple of hours on the road, it looked like we would be doing just that; we passed through a bit of scattered showers, but eventually the skies cleared up. A few hours into the first leg of our journey, I was feeling pretty good. I thought to myself, "I can probably speed and get away with it." I decided to try. We reached 120 MPH before getting pulled over in Junction, Texas. Luckily for us, the highway patrolman had clocked me going only 96 MPH, so my ticket only ended up being 200 dollars. I decided that it wasn't worth it to speed, so we drove at the speed limit for the rest of our trip. A couple more hours in, my car charger for the camera battery decided to die, so we have all of about five minutes of the trip on film. (I'll remedy this by getting a new camera for the trip back, I promise that this film will be everything that you want.) Another six or seven hours of driving (and some amazingly beautiful, desolate scenery) later, I was finally getting tired. I decided to wait till we were out of Texas to stop for rest. We passed through a brilliantly-lit El Paso late in the evening before finally leaving Texas and ending up in New Mexico. I spotted a Super 8, pulled in, and we passed out for the night. Not bad for a day's work.
As productive as our first day was, I didn't wanna lose that momentum so I made sure to wake up early to shower and pack things up before leaving. After our complimentary breakfast, we gathered our things and were back on the road. Like west Texas, New Mexico was home to some of the most gorgeous desert landscape I've been lucky enough to see. In some kind of perfect coincidence, it was nearing sunset as we passed into the state of Colorado, Eluvium's glorious ambiance playing all the while. Coming from Texas, Joe and I had never seen real snow (I mean, it snowed in Texas last year, but that was more like ice than actual snow.) As such, we decided to stop on the side of the road near a farm to play in the snow for a bit. After about thirty minutes, we (by "we", I mean "our freezing cold hands") decided it was time to get going. A few more hours of driving and we were in Utah, a place we would soon come to know far better than we ever did before. It was nighttime and we were low on gas, so I decided to stop near a small town called Green River. We filled up the tank and started up the car, looking for the way back to the highway. The area was very poorly lit, and I was getting a little frustrated that I hadn't yet seen a way back on. Finally, I just barely caught notice of the sign in time to turn on, but only at the last moment did I realize that I was going way too fucking fast to make the turn.
"Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck!"
As we swerved and veered off the highway, I couldn't think of anything except that I wouldn't be making it to Seattle after all. I thought, "This is it. We're going to die here and it's my fault." The car came to a halt, leaning almost perpendicular to the highway road that was now above us. I took several deep breaths and then looked around to make sure everyone was alright and that I hadn't hit anyone or anything. Somehow, we hadn't flipped over. After some careful analyzing of the situation, we realized that the only reason we hadn't flipped and tumbled down to our deaths below was that all of the stuff that we couldn't fit into the trunk was lodged into the backseat of the car to the right of Joe. I decided to try the gas, but to no avail. The ground beneath us was far too loose and soft and allowed no traction to be had. I deemed us "fucked" and got out of the car. After some argument and deliberation over what to do, we noticed a driver coming to a stop on the shoulder of the road near us. As he stepped out of his car, I was somewhat filled with relief that someone might be able to help us out. When we were finally within speaking distance, the bearded fellow asked us what had happened. We explained the situation to him, shaking and sniffling all the while (it was really cold outside.) The man, who seemed not too much older than any of us, seemed just as awestruck as we were by the fact that we hadn't been killed. He suggested that I try to back it up the same way we came down. This seemed really crazy to me, but I was so scared that I decided to go ahead and try it. I got back in the car and tried to get it to go in reverse, but still nothing. The ground was just too loose. We tried scooping out some dirt and some rather large rocks from underneath the tires when I noticed that my front bumper was completely destroyed along with my radiator, which was now leaking fluid. Things seemed to be going from bad to worse, when we saw a cop car pull up. They asked us what had happened, and once again, we explained our dire situation. In classic cop manner, he seemed almost intent on busting us for something. He asked me all sorts of questions that cops like to ask teenagers.
"Were you speeding?"
"No, I was going the speed limit. I just took the turn way too sharp."
"Are you sure you weren't speeding, because I don't think this could've happened if you were going the speed limit."
"Yes, I'm sure I wasn't speeding, I just took the turn way too sharp."
After answering all of his questions and giving my information, they finally decided to stop trying to bust us and give us some real help by calling a tow truck. It seemed like hours and hours (it was probably really only about half an hour) before the tow truck finally showed up. The bearded man we had met first had stayed with us all the while to make sure we were okay, and we were extremely thankful that someone could be so caring and compassionate. Before leaving, he told us his name was Elliott and we gave him our names in return, followed by a farewell handshake. The tow truck took us to a Holiday Inn Express in Green River where we would stay for the night.
The next morning (after having breakfast), I walked to the body shop where my car was towed, filed an insurance claim, and was told that I'd have to wait until the next day for the insurance adjuster to call me back. I got back to the hotel room and told Andrey and Joe that we'd have to be here for a couple of days longer; little did we know how long it would really be. We decided we may as well try to explore the area that we were trapped in. We found that Green River may just be the most boring place on this planet, and maybe in the Universe. The nearest restaurants were a good fifteen minute walk, not to mention there wasn't even a Wal-Mart in this town. We went to a nearby convenience store where I discovered something that I had never seen before: Raspberry Pop-Tarts! I'm at least pretty sure that I had never seen them before. It may have just been my desire to see regional differences in various food items, but I'm almost certain I had never seen them before (it'd be cool if one of you cool kids from Texas could check for me next time you're at a store.) After we got back to the hotel room, we watched some television for a few hours before turning in for the night. Exciting, I know.
We woke up somewhat early, had some breakfast, and then I called my claims adjuster to check on the situation. I was advised to have my vehicle towed to a body shop in a nearby town called Price, where my car would be worked on. I decided this would be fine, so I called the body shop where my car was and told them that I'd like to have it towed to AJ's Body & Paint in Price. By the time we got there, the tow truck driver was already gone. Luckily, there was an available driver at the Napa Auto Parts next door. After about an hour drive, we arrived in Price. I got an estimate on the repair cost (which was thankfully almost completely paid for by my insurance) and was told that it may be a few days before my car would be ready. I asked if there were any nearby hotels we could stay at, and ultimately decided that the Holiday Inn was our best option. I was finally starting to feel that maybe our situation wasn't completely hopeless. The person from the shop's office offered us a ride to the hotel, which we graciously accepted (it ended up being kinda far, it would've been a hell of a walk.) We checked into the hotel and found it to actually be quite nice, especially compared to Green River's Holiday Inn Express. It had a huge lobby, a restaurant, a weight room, and a pool. We later got settled into our new temporary home, and decided to explore. We soon found out that the hotel actually offered a free shuttle service to all of its guests. We'd be taking advantage of this quite a bit during our stay. After getting some essentials from Wal-Mart and heading back to our room, we thought it would be nice to relax for awhile. We swam in the pool for a couple of hours before Andrey left; Joe and I decided to try out the weight room before heading back. This became a common practice for Joe and I over the next few days. Later, we found our way back and watched some television before succumbing to sleep.
After waking and heading downstairs for breakfast, I called the body shop to check on things. They told me that it would take longer than expected, as late as Monday, to get the parts they ordered for my car. This meant that we would be stuck here for a whole week.
Sure enough, it took exactly that long. I won't bore you with the details of that week, because it was basically the fourth day over and over again.
I woke up, called to make sure my car was ready (it was), and got a ride to the body shop. After taking care of the insurance deductible, we got in the car and final-fucking-ly got back on the road. I decided that I didn't wanna spend anymore time in a hotel. I decided to make the rest of the trip in one shot. And I did exactly that. Eighteen straight hours of driving later, we passed into Washington, through Seattle, into Seatac, and found our home.
By the time we had found our home, it was nearing daylight. We unpacked, checked out our new house (it's fucking awesome!) and passed out for what seemed like about one hundred hours.
That is the story of how we got here. Questions, comments, or concerns can and should be mailed to:
Mr. David Rivera
3238 S150 ST.
Seatac, WA 91888
PS: I saw the pillows on Wednesday and they were amazing.