Tatters Log: 09-Feb 2010.
I found myself alone in warm in a place that looked a lot like my bedroom. It was strange because it was my bedroom. Confused I shut off the alarm clock which was softly places some Walrus hits and made my way to pile of clothes I laid out to wear on this journey. It took me about 20 minutes to make it my way to the bank for some safety cash that I might need on the arduous journey. The goal? 1350 miles from San Diego to Oklahoma City in one drive, not counting gas.
It wasn't far down the eastbound 8 that i found myself doing an easy 110 miles per hour. It's a pretty smooth road and this pretty much set my pace for the trip, not speed-wise. Heading east around 6:00 AM going 110 miles an hour is one of the worst with to do sporting a pair of polarized Warfarers i soon found out as the 8 was merging with another interstate. Not realizing how slow the two dark figures were going in front of me I found myself going a little harder on the breaks than usual. Picture how hard guys try to put their hands down girls pants after a high school dance; that hard. Luckily there was not a collision. Unlucky however, one of those black figures was one California's finest so unable to stop behind these cares and having to shimmy the Jetta through the traffic, I didn't find it to surprising to see the glaring blue and red lights in the rearview. I wasn't even mad. I realized I fucked up and thought to myself, well, "I haven't gotten a speeding ticket in the 13 years I've been driving; I'm due."
"License and Registration."
Being that I never get pulled over the registration was a new thing for me. As i fumbled through the dash I pulled out a registration from 2006. After he had asked for a more recent one I pulled out the Junior Senior cd and maps of UCSD and found the most current one. I handed them to the man and he went to the squad car and came back with a "less than impressed" look on his face. "Do you know what the speed limit here is?"
"70."
"Do you know how fast i clocked you at?"
"No."
"95."
He had asked where I was going and why I was going so fast and during the conversation I realized the mustache I was sporting was not helping my cause at all. After some light banter and asking me if I had any warrants out for my arrest or had been consuming any alcoholic beverages that night or morning my 95 turned into a 75; which is about the coolest thing I've ever heard of or witnessed, since I'd have to go to court initially, and had he seen me a few miles up the road I would have lost my license right then and there. I took off after that keeping an eye on the speedometer and made sure I didn't go any higher than 5 mph over the limit; which could be attributed to mechanical failures of the radar gun.
Didn't get far until I made a new friend that worked for the border patrol. It was a routine stop asking where i was going. Expecting a short conversation, much like the car before me, i answered "Oklahoma City" when he had asked where I was going. It was right around this time i found a German Sheppard running hysterically to my car. It was like this dog was on speed, which is surprising since it was a narcotics dog. It raced around the car a few times going ape shit and I thought to myself, "I don't have any drugs but with this goddamn mustache, who would believe me" and looked puzzled at the border officer told me to go on my way. Apparently all drug dogs are hyperactive.
I dunno how many of you smooth operators drive across the US
but I'll tell ya, it is a pain the the hole. There isn't much in the terms of landscape in the first part of the trip however was completely taken from the views of Flagstaff, which also, I found my first snowfall. It wasn't heavy snow, just enough to tense me up a bit and the views were outstanding, driving up to elevation of 7000+ feet I was totally taken away by the mountain scape; truly fantastic.
After that I m
ade my way through New Mexico which was not short of it natural beauty. This natural beauty came to an end right around the time the sun went down. Now, if there's two things people know about me it's A.) I hate driving or perhaps B.) I hate driving at night or perhaps a third secret is that I fucking hate semi's!!! So you could imagine my demeanor when I found myself in this particular situation stated below:
1.) Driving at night
2.) On a 2-lane highway
3.) In New Fucking Mexico
4.) Surrounded my semis
5.) Alone
6.) On a road that has no highway lights
7.) And no reflectors on the road
8.) In the fog
The thing about semis is this. Semi's to my knowledge do not have cruise control so every time they go up a hill, they slow down. Conversely, when they go down a hill they speed up. When it's straight they go the speed limit. I have a natural fear of semi's. I always felt like that would be my end; getting into an accident with a semi. This was a very hilly road, the I-40. So the speeds on the semi's were very wide in range and the occurrence was high. Mama didn't raise no fool. I'm one of those guy who takes his left hand and touches a counter top and it is cool, I'll touch the refrigerators and it is also cold. If I touch a stove with my left hand and burn it, I don't touch it with my right hand to see if my left hand is wrong.
So it was right around one of this hills i found myself passing this slow semi and the hill ended and we leveled out going the same speed. Uncomfortable with the situation I had hope he'd speed up or slow down but this was as fruitless at Rice Krispies. I, taking the man route, decides to accelerate past him to leave the passing lane open, rather than drop back 100 feet behind the three semis, two of which i had passed on the hill. This was not the correct idea, no matter how good and logical it may sound. So unlike before, I was surprised to see the red and blues in the rearview moments later.
The man asked for my license and registration and puzzled I gave it to him. He had asked if there was a reason i was going 83 in a 75. I told him there was and explained the situation verbatim as stated above. He went back to the squad car and came back with a ticket. At this stage I took the ticket from him and took off. This exact situation happened multiple time since. But this time i wasn't falling for it and after driving neck and neck with semi for miles, eventually another hill would come and i would pass them, then that hill would end and go down and he would pass me. And so on. Whatever. It just seems stupid that i get a ticket for going 110 almost INTO a cop and get a 5 mph ticket and i play by the "rules" and get a 7 mph ticket. Does this seems stupid to anyone else? God, I love California.
So that was New Mexico. I went on further, not exceeding the speed limit the rest of the way, no matter how dickheaded the situation made me.
I made it to Oklahoma City after 21 hours at 4:30 AM in the morning local time...when i left 5:30 local time. So let's crunch the numbers
2.
0.
80.
2 speeding tickets
0 meals
80 oz of Sugarfree Rockstar
End Transmission.
After leaving Iceland, the fellowship moved onto London, England only to find that nearby, in Brussels, Belgium another creature was close on their tale that went by the name of Brentum.
London was atrocious. The hostel we stayed at had 6 people in it and it was like fucking 100 degrees in there. We spent the night in Leicester Square around Coventry Street. The place was pretty beat actually. We went to a handful of bars and got reasonable drunk by the end of the night.
the line. They check your backpack and purses before getting on the ferris wheel. My suggestion is this: There aren't any bathrooms while you are waiting in line and you can't bring booze on the trip. Pound a shit-ton of liquor prior to going on this fucker. You buy the tickets before getting in line for the ferris wheel. There aren't any bars in the area so you might have to buy a bottle before going on this. Also, Cadbury discontinued Fingers of Fudge; so don't waste your time looking for them. The London Eye does give you good shots of Parliment (minus the Funkadelic), Big Ben and other shit people find profound. It was at this time the three, Wallagrim Took, Tatdo Butagins, and Samwise Plumgee found their nemesis, Rat Tail. 
This fucking kid got on our last nerve. First off, he had a rat tail. And secondly, he had a fucking rat tail. The goddamn nerve. I wanted to smack him AND his parents. Rumor has it that he was adopted and his parents were raised by goddamn fucking apes! Like, what the fuck!?! Rat tails? In this day and age?
Needless to say, the fellowship noticed that Brentum was close on their track and they had to get the fuck out of Dodge! So they hightailed it the fuck outta England and made their way to Amsterdam where they would, no doubt, lose Brentum and continue their journey.
