Before I begin this tale I’d like to introduce my co-pilot, navigator, communications manager and photographer, Scott. Scott was nice enough to accompany PD and me on our little jaunt. He was also been along on my last trip cross country in 2007 that ended in destruction when Milo was broken into and my ENTIRE music and DVD collection was taken and sold on the black market of the Mission in SF…. I’m still not over it. Can you tell?

With Scott’s superior ability to read and use maps, his state of the art Mac book, his various publications on popular and obscure points in the US and the blessing of portable WiFi we were two steps ahead of ourselves and knew everything we would need and want to know about all of our planned sites.

At a couple of points Scott’s office would begin to ooze over to my side and on two occasions moved the gear shift into a Neutral posistion… on the Interstate… while we were moving; a small price to pay for advanced communication and professional documentation.

The drive through Vail and Breckenridge was the worst of the entire trip. It was stunning and quite difficult. We experienced sleet, snow, rain and extreme fog which made me mad that I didn’t get the right windshield wiper replaced nor did I apply Rain-X to the windshield. Bummer. An old friend from high school that I hadn’t seen in 10 years lives about 10 minutes from where I write this entry. I’m so stoked to see her and a little nervous. Till then…

Change of plans, Four Corners was closed for remodeling. Bummer. It still didn’t stop us from taking pictures of the disappointment.

During the travels we stopped at several trading posts because I wanted a turquoise ring, a Navajo turquoise ring made in the 40’s. I had on my first cross country trip found a beautiful turquoise ring at an antiques shop in Salt Lake City. I wore this ring constantly and it was referred to as my “Elizabeth Taylor” ring by the Boss Lady herself, Chi Chi LaRue. I loved this ring and on cross country trip #4 my truck was broken into when I reached San Francisco from Ohio. Bummer. I’m still not over it.

The posts were a waste of time. They all carried the same generic crap that the tourists devour. I wasn’t going to find my treasure at a trading post, I needed an antique shop. When I woke up in Cortez, CO and noticed the flyers advertising some right down the street from a local coffee shop I began to feel it calling to me. When I got a kick-ass cup of coffee I felt like this would be my time. It wasn’t. There was no antique shop, just a “For Rent” sign. Bummer.

We drove right to Durango, CO and I noticed an antique shop. We stopped in this cool little town got PD and walked over. I asked the woman promptly for the section where the Navajo rings were, preferably 40’s. There were none and when I started to walk out she told me to take a look in the back. There he was, all alone in a case, begging to be noticed. It was exactly what I wanted and for $20? This was God.

The rest of the day took us through the Rockies to Black Canyon of the Gunnison National Park. I wrote this while in Glenwood Springs watching “The Shining”.

I’m so happy I got the ring.

We had an early start in Needles, CA where I had terrible luck getting a decent cup of coffee. I finally found one… in Kingman, AZ. The girl who sold me my crack asked almost immediately where I was from.

The goal today was to cruise to Monument Valley and Valley of the Gods in Utah. It was drier than an 85-year-old pussy and I couldn’t apply the Burt’s Bees fast enough for the drive east.

Any fans of Warner Bros cartoons will understand that I had my eye out for the Roadrunner all day long.

PD’s obedience and completely relaxed attitude was amazing; whenever we got out to take pictures he would stick close by and never goof off.

Cortez, CO was our final destination. It’s relatively close to Durango and The 4 Corners which is where we start day three.

After a rather late goodbye dinner in Palm Springs I was off to LA to gather my traveling buddies, Scott and PD, and begin my 5th trip across the US. I was a little hungover today and was not looking forward to the physical activity or the night driving, but I did it and have been looking forward to hitting the hay. Sorry no pictures yet. I promise to make up for that very soon.

During a plane trip last month I encountered a most unexpected, annoying and consequently enlightening travel experience. We’ve all had our time in travel hell, but in this particular time I was lucky enough to come out of it learning a valuable lesson and getting to my destination relatively close to the originally promised time. Like the experienced traveler I am, as soon as I arrived at the airport I checked the departure screen for my flight and discovered it had been canceled. The screen also revealed that there were no other flights to Palm Springs near my original departure time or any other for that matter. It didn’t take me long to get to the ticket counter and find other people on my flight already harassing the agents there. The reason for the cancellation was not divulged, but the airline offered to pay for hotel rooms for us all since the next flight would be on the following day. Oh, hell no! Besides having to pick PD up on time, the thought of a night at the airport Ramada was too horrible even to consider.

It seemed logical to me that if they were willing to pay for a hotel perhaps they would pay for a rental car in LA instead. That way I could at least drive to Palm Springs and spend the night in my own bed. When I asked the useless woman behind the ticket counter if they would take care of the car in lieu of the hotel she shrugged her shoulders, paused for a moment and said I would have to ask customer service. Taking a deep breath I abstained from saying what I was thinking as she pointed to an unmarked black phone hanging on the wall behind me. I thanked her for her half assed attempt at a resolution and picked up the phone. After explaining, again, what I was trying to do the representative told me that I needed to ask the agent at the desk. When I told him that I was just there, in fact I was looking right at her, he stood his ground and told me in the same tone that only she could help me. When I relayed this information to the unhelpful girl I was met with the same vacant look and told to go another service desk in another part of the airport. As I walked down the moving walkway I hoped that my bag will make it to LA because my keys to everything were in my checked baggage. There was nothing to do about that now, so I marched onward.

At the new service desk I encountered a small team of present, helpful, lucid English speaking people. After I explained my situation and request I was told that they did not do that sort of thing and then I was asked if I wanted to be put on the next flight to PS. I was a bit confused but still managed to utter a “Yes, please!” As I was getting my mind back I was given my bag ticket and told that I might want to hurry since I had to exit the terminal, re-enter the terminal and go through security again. I expressed a heartfelt gratitude and before I took off like Mercury I asked why the dolts at the other counter hadn’t offered this option to me or the other passengers. “They suck over there” said the leader of the group, who were all college kids. She explained that because United was partnered with several airlines my ticket was transferable between them – something I could have learned much, much earlier had the first agent been worth her weight in fiberglass insulation. The lesson learned is that knowing which airlines your carrier is partnered with can save your bacon. The minor lesson is to always carry my keys because the next time I might not be so lucky.