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Getting there is half the fun...
Jun. 12th, 2005 04:33 pmSometimes.
We finally got on the road yesterday around 11:30 am, and everything was going fairly nominally - including a short stop at the Santa Fe flea market where I found out that not only were cameras prohibited at that facility, but throughout the tribal lands. (I'd have taken a photo to prove what I'm saying, but...) - until we got to Amarillo.
Long-time readers of this journal will recall the fun I had once before in this exact part of the country, running before the wind, so to speak, to outpace bad weather. Last night, as we approached Amarillo from the west on I-40, we saw the remnants of baseball-sized hail (those who don't know what a baseball is can think of an apple or peach) on the side of the road... the kind of thing that's definitely bad news to get in the way of when it's in the air, especially when the lateral wind speed is about 70 mph (that's the speed of the wind, not the car's speed on the road).
Every underpass and overpass was jammed with cars waiting out the storm, the description of which sounded impressive as heck on the radio, except that said description was geared toward local residents (understandable), with continuous references to the storm's location in terms of counties ("Yeah, Frank, those cells that are generating tornados are just now moving into the southeast corner of Bumstooge county. Y'all be careful out there!"). The fact that an interstate highway runs right through all of this happiness seems to have been lost on whoever is in charge of the broadcasts.
At any rate, we took temporary refuge with some other folks under the awning of a gas station, and I ran inside to see if there was any helpful news on the tube. What I saw was not encouraging, but it did seem to indicate that by the time we'd be at Clyde headed toward Clarendon on highway 287, the storm would be passing directly in front of us. So we set off.
It was an, um, interesting drive. The lightning was pretty much continuous, like photo strobes at a Hollywood premiere. Trucks (18-wheelers) created temporary zones of zero visibility as they passed us. I was hoping no cells of violent weather had lingered behind to wreak havoc in our immediate neighborhood, and apparently none had.
Once we got past Clarendon, things settled down. We decided to drive through the night, both to make sure we got to Houston on time (we're checked in and online in Clear Lake as I type this), and to give me a shove toward shifting my wake times (I work the night shift). I remember driving from about 11 pm to a little after 3 am, at which point Galina and I snoozed at a rest area for about an hour before pressing on toward Ft. Worth.
We eventually got to Houston around 9 am, stopping by Natalie's new place. I slept for a couple of hours, ate a lunch of spaghetti, and then Galina and I headed for the hotel via Pearland.
We need to go eat (I'm thinking sushi), pick up some groceries, and I need to see if I can catch some shuteye for an hour or two before reporting to the MCC.
Cheers...
We finally got on the road yesterday around 11:30 am, and everything was going fairly nominally - including a short stop at the Santa Fe flea market where I found out that not only were cameras prohibited at that facility, but throughout the tribal lands. (I'd have taken a photo to prove what I'm saying, but...) - until we got to Amarillo.
Long-time readers of this journal will recall the fun I had once before in this exact part of the country, running before the wind, so to speak, to outpace bad weather. Last night, as we approached Amarillo from the west on I-40, we saw the remnants of baseball-sized hail (those who don't know what a baseball is can think of an apple or peach) on the side of the road... the kind of thing that's definitely bad news to get in the way of when it's in the air, especially when the lateral wind speed is about 70 mph (that's the speed of the wind, not the car's speed on the road).
Every underpass and overpass was jammed with cars waiting out the storm, the description of which sounded impressive as heck on the radio, except that said description was geared toward local residents (understandable), with continuous references to the storm's location in terms of counties ("Yeah, Frank, those cells that are generating tornados are just now moving into the southeast corner of Bumstooge county. Y'all be careful out there!"). The fact that an interstate highway runs right through all of this happiness seems to have been lost on whoever is in charge of the broadcasts.
At any rate, we took temporary refuge with some other folks under the awning of a gas station, and I ran inside to see if there was any helpful news on the tube. What I saw was not encouraging, but it did seem to indicate that by the time we'd be at Clyde headed toward Clarendon on highway 287, the storm would be passing directly in front of us. So we set off.
It was an, um, interesting drive. The lightning was pretty much continuous, like photo strobes at a Hollywood premiere. Trucks (18-wheelers) created temporary zones of zero visibility as they passed us. I was hoping no cells of violent weather had lingered behind to wreak havoc in our immediate neighborhood, and apparently none had.
Once we got past Clarendon, things settled down. We decided to drive through the night, both to make sure we got to Houston on time (we're checked in and online in Clear Lake as I type this), and to give me a shove toward shifting my wake times (I work the night shift). I remember driving from about 11 pm to a little after 3 am, at which point Galina and I snoozed at a rest area for about an hour before pressing on toward Ft. Worth.
We eventually got to Houston around 9 am, stopping by Natalie's new place. I slept for a couple of hours, ate a lunch of spaghetti, and then Galina and I headed for the hotel via Pearland.
We need to go eat (I'm thinking sushi), pick up some groceries, and I need to see if I can catch some shuteye for an hour or two before reporting to the MCC.
Cheers...
