After loading up my truck, I made a couple of quick stops to pick up an egg muffin at Newsroom Cafe and a lock from Busy Bees hardware in Santa Monica. I hit the road at about 11:30am with 960 miles of lonely road ahead of me.
The plan was to get on the 5, and stay on the 5 until I hit Portland. Well, I managed to get off the 5 and onto the 99 somewhere in Central California. And if it hadn’t been for my dad (who apparently was sitting next to a map while talking on the phone to me), I would have never known that I was on the wrong freeway. Of course it didn’t help that I was mapless so to speak. I finally made it back onto the 5 once I hit Sacramento.
I drove for 12 hours the first day and then stopped for the night in a Motel 6 in Medford, Oregon. 12 hours seem like an awfully long time to be driving along, however, I managed to have the time of my life. I talked on my phone (with a headset, of course), listened to very crappy radio stations and sang along to even crappier country songs.
I made a couple of stops the first day, which completely cofirmed the following hypothesis: Only really weird people stop at rest stops.
Not sure why that is, but I can positively confirm that I didn’t see a single normal person at those rest stops. From the guy trying to make eye contact while standing at the pisser to the lady who having a full-fledged phone conversation with her son (who apparently was in jail) on how to fool the cops out of giving him a DUI. It’s kind of like the DMV. There are only weird people at the DMV. Question is, where do all the normal people stop? And where do they register their cars?
On the second day, I finished the trip by driving roughly another three hours north from Medford to Portland. It was raining like crazy here in Ptown and it took me close to another three hours to finally find my hotel. Again, a map would have helped.