In August 2000, I helped Allan move down to California. He rented the biggest U-Haul available, with a trailer for his car. Halfway between Las Vegas and Los Angeles, the U-Haul stopped working, and we were trapped in the Mojave desert.
The heat was blistering. I pointed north, for I knew that if we walked in that direction, it would get cooler eventually.
Fortunately, the truck started up again after we waited an hour or so for the engine to cool off. Before long, we were in Los Angeles. A couple of days later, after unpacking Allan's metric whammoload of stuff, we dropped off the U-Haul.
"Where did y'all come down from?" asked the U-Haul guy.
"Edmonton," Allan said.
"That shore is a lawgn draave," drawled the U-Haul guy.
Long drive or not, I'm glad we made it through the desert. For a while there, I was imagining us as skeletons, sprawled out in the scrub, reaching for salvation, bones bleached the colour of iPod boxes.
Quite prescient of you to imagine your bones the colour of something that wouldn't exist for another year.
ReplyDeleteEarl, you should tell more of this story. I'd like to know more about the trip and how Allan got settled in.
ReplyDeleteIt was quite an adventure. I'll talk to Allan and see what he remembers - it should make an interesting story. Heck, maybe he'd like to write a guest blog.
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