Fallbrook Ludlow, Kingman, Winslow, Flagstaff, Gallup, November 20th to the 21st

When I left Fallbrook for Albuquerque for what was to be a two day traveling trip, I once again let the Garmin GPS determine the best and fastest route on how to get to my next destination. The GPS had offered no map preview, however, and I did not know what towns and highways I was going to pass thru and what roads I would be traveling on. But technology waits for no one! No sooner had I entered my destination address when I was promptly directed by GPS Samantha straight to nearby I-10. And once there, to "Take the on ramp". As always, I obeyed Sam's directions. I was on the road again.

I hadn't traveled very far, however, when I realized, and grew mildly disappointed, in the direction I was being guided. I had been hoping to pass thru my favorite town of Indio once more, but I was, instead, headed in the opposite direction (generally). I'd been directed up toward LA, then sent straight across toward Arizona in a more direct path to NM. Indio was the other way, below me. ON THE OTHER HAND, I was getting to see a whole new region of California that I had never seen before. I was on a faster, less congested path toward my destination. I began to dig the new landscape (Mojave National Preserve). There were less populated areas to distract, too, and the highway was straight for long stretches. It was while refueling somewhere around those parts that I paid the most for gasoline EVER, an eye popping $4.45 a gallon. California has high gas prices to begin with, and way out the the middle of nowhere, an additional buck I supposed seemed in order, but still... I pushed on, my attitude gradually improving. I'd been on the road for nearly five hours when I passed Needles and crossed the border into Arizona. After that, about four hours later, came Winslow and who's ever driven thru Winslow and not thought of The Eagles. Steadily climbing, the elevation now at 5000 feet and about an hour later, I drove thru Flagstaff.

(I'd only been to Flagstaff once before in the 80s, flying in for a movie shoot. It was on one of those smaller commuter planes where you climb into a small fuselage, bent over so you don't bump your head, squeeze into a smallish seat and strap in. It was a bumpy ride, lots of turbulence. The kind where you feel like you're free falling while getting bumped about real good. Once we touched down, a fellow passenger gratefully shook the pilots hand as he hurried off the plane).

When I saw the 6000 feet elevation sign streak by, I was 2.5 hours from my overnight destination, Gallup, New Mexico. Outside, the temperature was going down, down, down. When I pulled off the highway and veered into a rest area at last, it was a not toooo terribly frigid 32º -- but the wind was blowing (wind-chill!). It would be the coldest night I was to spend inside the ATXBreeze to date. There was ample parking in the well-lit rest area and I quickly grabbed the essentials from the car and crawled into the trailer wearing two jackets, my wool cap, and gloves. I was freezing. I was so cold I did something that's strictly discouraged for anyone in an enclosed area hoping to warm up. I lit my Coleman propane stove! But I only kept it on in spurts. I rubbed my gloved hands over the pretty blue flame from only a few inches away and I could feel the heat but just kinda/sorta. After a few minutes, the trailer interior climbed a few noticeable degrees and I shut the stove off. But I turned it on and off a few more times after that (not wanting to use up all the oxygen and permanently slip into the "Big Sleep"). In spite of the cold, my vices were still well intact, and I sipped on a largish plastic glass of ICE COLD red wine. But only one (instead of my regular two). Then I prepared my special fold-out cot and rounded up all the bedding and blankets I could find. Like other cold nights I had spent while bunking in the trailer, I covered myself from head to toe and curled up. EXCEPT THIS TIME, I was FULLY CLOTHED and GLOVED. And I pulled my wool cap all the way down to the bridge of my big nose and went to sleep. Surprisingly, I slept well!

When I worke up the next day, early in the morning, I put the Coleman stove right back to work. I boiled water and dripped steaming extra strong coffee directly into my Camel steel bottle that I'd already poured heavy whipping cream into. I stopped when the coffee reached the tippy top of the container. I secured the trailer, got into the FREEZING FORESTER (already dressed!), cranked the ignition and fired up the engine. It was 27º outside. Before I pulled out of the rest area, I saw a lady with a light, unbuttoned sweater ambling toward the bathroom while brushing her teeth. She did not appear to be freezing. Or even that cold. "Must live around this here parts", I thought while rubbing my gloved hands. I put the car into drive.

I stopped and gassed up along the way, tanked up on more coffee at a Gallup Mickey D's, too, where I took advantage of wifi to catch up on News of The World and put an update this here website.

Later on the 21st., I would arrive in Albuquerque, New Mexico for a visit with an erstwhile gal pal, Chiquita.

- Max