We have been traveling since Saturday, and moving at a pretty good pace – I guess once you round the final pole you just naturally want to sprint for home. And, frankly, we are traveling through some areas we have already visited and then there is Texas – we commented previously that there was a lot of nothing in Texas – and even going down the Southern route through Houston and San Antonio there is still not much to report. Houston was a real eye opener – and sinus closer. This is the most polluted city I have seen since being in Beijing China. As you approach Houston from the East you begin to see a fog/haze and we both commented on – “Hope that’s fog” Wrong. It was not fog, but a heavy layer of smoke and pollution – I assume that it is not always this way that perhaps the air has been unusually stagnant, but it was appalling. We actually drove I-10 through the center of Houston and could only view the tall buildings through a heavy gauze haze – much like the Puget Sound fog – but different. There has been surprisingly little traffic up to this point – perhaps because of the three day holiday – but for whatever reason we are grateful. Then we hit Houston. Although the traffic is not like the stop and go, bogged down Seattle freeway traffic – it has its moments. I wish to go on record that I believe the single most dangerous thing any driver can do is drive 15 or more miles under the speed limit on the freeway – not only do they endanger themselves but create situations that are extremely dangerous for trucks, cars, and of course, Moby and the Jeep. You just move along at a nice pace, everyone doing the same thing and suddenly – Bam – there is someone that can only be referred to as the “flat tire on the wheel of traffic progress” and so begins the swerving, slalom weave and dodge – all the while they seeming to be oblivious to the chaos they have caused. There, I feel so much better. Got that off my chest.
Through Houston, safely, and on towards El Paso with thoughts of possibly stopping at the Alamo – but first, a nice three course meal at Arby’s and refueling Moby. As we leave the pumps we hear a clunk behind us and having had a little problem with our hitch not being firmly attached to Moby while we were in Texas (North) we get out and check. Nope, those tack welds have held just fine thank you – Onward and westward we go for another couple of hundred miles and are finally approaching San Antonio – time to fuel up again – it’s much easier outside of a major city – more truck stops with room to maneuver. In we go, out of Moby we jump and I head to the bathroom. Upon my return Bill says “Hey, take a look at the front of the Jeep” . Being the dutiful wife, I do as he says – and you know what? The OTHER end of the hitch, the one attached to the Jeep has dropped two of its four nuts that keep the silly thing attached to the bolts that hold the whole thing together. And to get to the bolts, so that you can attach new nuts is a virtual impossibility without a lot of tools we don’t have and a car lift. So our “hitch connection” from the Jeep is in drop down mode, the bolts are still there but by the time we actually figured this problem out we have bent the hitch, not irreparably, but temporarily. So, now we are a caravan of two – Bill driving Moby, me driving the Jeep, Lucy riding with me. It’s kind of a modified Smokey and the Bandit – at least now I can run interference for Bill when he needs to change lanes – always look on the bright side, right? We figure that we have three days until we get to Yuma (actually 1078 miles – I Googled it) and instead of messing around with this on the road we will continue our caravan to the West – Yuma mechanics, here we come. Have your tools ready. Life is good – a marriage will last forever if you travel in separate vehicles.