I just realized that although I have been giving everyone snippets of information in the last few days, I left some huge gaps in between. I think at some point that I was being vague for safety purposes, but now that past locations are just that, I can go back and connect some dots.
Prior to San Diego, we dragged ourselves from our beds alarmingly early in Las Cruces to backtrack an hour to the White Sands National Monument. It was amazingly beautiful & had all of the beauty of snow minus the insanely cold temperatures. They even sold sleds for you to ride down the dunes, a fact my inner 5-year-old was insanely unhappy about overlooking.
We left from there for Yuma, and though both New Mexico and Arizona were beautiful, Yuma was like a blemish on an otherwise perfect face. Think Bog of Eternal Stench from “The Labyrinth,” and you might have an inkling of the only city I’d recommend overlooking since Lafayette, LA. Just in case you still can’t grasp it, Sara stepped in a vomit the size of Lake Michigan the second she got out of the car. (We did have our first In-N-Out Burger experience here, but that hardly makes up for Yuma’s behavior.)
We escaped the next day with the fury of prisoners on the lam, which was fitting since we went through the third of our customs/border patrol checkpoints. Though we hadn’t stashed 10 illegal immigrants inside our cooler or anything, it was still nerve-wracking. I’m the girl who will have a panic attack when I get asked how much I’ve had to drink when I’m dead sober. This was the same, only it involved lots of dogs, suspicious looks, and having our bag of oranges confiscated.
Then when we were free and clear, riding in the hot California sun, breezing on in to San Diego, IT happened: a pickle jar thrashed our tire in half, 60 miles outside of where we were headed. It honestly wasn’t bad. AAA was on top of it, a state trooper saw us and stayed until the tow truck arrived, and the truck driver proved to be a knowledgeable tour guide. What gets me is the fact that someone had a whole pickle jar in their vehicle to begin with and that they were then convinced a busy, uphill highway would be the prime location to dispense of said jar.
We hung out in one of San Diego’s outlying towns while we were waiting on our new tires. I wrote this while we were in the pizza place we found to waste our time in:
P.S. My writing’s normally not that atrocious. Anyway, we finally got back on the road, about half a day behind schedule, and arrived juuust in time for our first Pacific coast sunset. San Diego was amazing, but that’s one of the segments on our trip I have managed to already report on thus far. (Here and here.)
We loved our first California experience, but we had to move on, and move on we did. It was on to L.A., but ahhh, L.A.! My friends, this bizarre mega-city deserves a blog entry equivalent to all of the reality shows it spawns, and that’s what I’ll try to deliver. ‘Til then…