The following is all true, all hyperboles and figurative language aside; Delivered in the order of occurrence as best as I can remember. The people are real. The stories are real. (Times are estimated. After the first 300 miles you don't really care anymore.)
7:00ish PM Friday 6-18:
We begin our assumed 18 hour journey to the land of Las Vegas. I spent the first 3 hours completely unconscious in a state of partial denial that this car wouldn't be escaped until we were an entire 3 states away. Although Texas is more of 6 to 7 states. Especially going out west. Amarillo smells like cow manure and wildfires. Mixed together. Basically it smells like the entire city is covered in flaming piles of poop. Go Texas!
12:30ish AM Saturday 6-19:
Franklin has driven the entire first leg and we are now in the land of Albuquerque, New Mexico. While it stinks significantly less than west Texas, now I have to drive for at least 4 hours until Kyle starts his driving right before Arizona. This did NOT go as planned. While I had slept for around 3 hours. I neglected to mention that I had not slept for an entire 25 hours prior to entering the car. Yes, I was driving cross country, on 3 hours of sleep, at night. Don't worry we all make it out alive in this story as far as I know. *crosses fingers*
4:30ish AM Saturday 6-19:
I have been driving for around 4 hours, and we are approximately 3/4 of the way to the Arizona border. By some magical Full Throttle-Starbucks-Dr. Pepper mixture I had managed to keep everyone alive and I was so overly caffeinated that I was wide awake. I was in a crazy sleep deprived state of hilarity, and in my Rambo-ish state I decided I wanted to drive us through the NM-AZ border to the first rest stop. What I did not know at that time was that AZ does not have rest stops...anywhere.
7:30ish AM Saturday 6-19:
I have now been driving for 7 hours..I hate myself and I hate Kyle. At this point he has been asleep for around 6 total hours so far. Franklin and I are still partially aware and able to drive with his sorry butt passed out in the back seat like a coma patient. We began to go into survival mode and questioned how neccesary he was, and where we could throw him out if need be. We didn't, yet.
Franklin has not slept yet and I haven't had near enough. Luckily, there is hope in the distance! What is that shiny golden sign on the horizon? McDonalds, can it be?. Their terribly unhealthy Egg Mcmuffins may have saved us all, and I forever owe my sanity, and life; to a breakfast sandwich.
Roadtrips are a strange strange place.
(Will be continued soon!)
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