So we headed for I-10, which goes all the way to Santa Monica, for our eventual destination of Las Vegas. But first Florida had to have her say in our leaving once again. This was the worst storm we’ve ever been in. Lightning right over our heads, buckets of rain so bad I don’t know how Rich could even drive, thunderous roars. This went on for hours – until we crossed the border into Alabama. Whew! Never want to be in one of those storms again!
Unlike our very first cross-country move when we moved from Oregon to Ohio along I-70 with 10-hour days, our days on this route were no more than 8 hours long. We stopped just north of New Orleans in Covington on I-10. I don’t recall any weirdness that night.
The next day we were thrilled to cross the Mississippi and stay over at one of our favorite hotels in San Antonio. Why? Chester’s Burgers and Beer. Yep, Rich just walks over there, gets our burgers and beer and walks back. No problem. And delicious Texas food! But they’ve removed the carpet, like so many are doing these days (Disney, for example), and I detest wood floors in a hotel room. I want the warmth and passing of carpet when I’m in a strange place, getting up in the middle of the night. Daisy hated walking on the wood floors.
The next night was El Paso, the place I dreaded the most and why last time we took I-40, which was a huge mistake. This time around I was rather impressed with El Paso – it’s coming into its own. I wouldn’t mind returning on a pleasure trip – the food is awesome and then there’s Carlsbad Caverns, of course. Haven’t done that since I was 8.
New Mexico was a welcome sight – after the border patrol, of course – and then our last night on the road was in Phoenix. Goodyear, AZ, actually, and we were very impressed with Good Year. We could see ourselves living there. I forgot to mention how Daisy would hide every morning just past first light, knowing we were going to put her in a cage. At each place we stopped, would check out all the possibilities so we’d know where to look for her. Well, here she was able to squeeze underneath the cabinet framing and climb underneath the dishwasher.
We waited for her to come out but after awhile, we realized she wasn’t coming out and we needed to get on the road to get the keys to our Vegas rental by a certain time. So we called Maintenance and he eventually had to remove the dishwasher in order to get her out. He says he has to rescue a cat or dog at least two or three times a year, but this was a first for the dishwasher! Crazy Daisy!
The day’s drive was only about 4 hours to Las Vegas, but we stopped by the rental company right away with the cats. The plan was for me to stay with the in the car while Rich got the keys. We’d already signed the lease and paid the deposit online before we left Florida. Well, that’s when all the rental fun began – just as bad as when we were trying to rent a house in Orlando. He insisted we both come in with our cats so he could read the lease aloud to us.
If you get the idea this guy was a real jerk, well your instincts are correct. He went on and on and on about worst case scenarios and when I mentioned the casita, he said this house didn’t have one and said, “Are you sure you’re renting *my* house?” It isn’t *his* house, he’s just an employee of the company handling the rentals of another one of those enormous companies who snapped up repos and are now renting them out. But I think he was right about one thing. Basically, you’re only guaranteed a place to sleep. More on that fun in future posts.
Welcome to Las Vegas – home sweet home – lol!