The Interstate Day from Hell or Gail, Emily and Beefy Boy Elliot Day One

Who are those people who love the open road? They must have a special "inner peace" and "solitude" gene. I have the special "when are we going to get there" variety which forces me to constantly look at the odometer and clock . "Crap, it's only been 12 minutes since we left Palm Springs that can't be right." Oh it was right all right as I held back tears. With my beefy boy Lab sprawled out in the back seat staring straight ahead I sensed he was also thinking it had been hours and wanted out. Only 1,996 miles to Chicago I winced and scratched at a nervous rash I had developed. My first stop was the Phoenix airport to pick up my girlfriend Emily who reluctantly agreed to make the "fun" cross country trip with me.

Could her plane being two hours late from LAX be a harbinger of what was to come? Nah. Our first destination was part of the "fun" I promised her. I know I lied. Santa Fe would be our one and only happy place and we were going to spend a day and two nights there. The promise of silver and turquoise jewelry was only 7 hours away. Yipee and holy crap I could hardly hang on to the steering wheel as we made our way across I40 in Arizona. Whoa little Honda! My car was being blown across the interstate. "Sure is windy out here," I declared taking on a John Wayne old West twang for some unexplainable reason . Tumble weed flew across the road and I could barely steer in a straight line. "What the....." The interstate traffic came to a dead stop 15 miles from Winslow Arizona. Dead as a doornail stop. I started to itch again. As far as the eye could see in front and piling up behind us trucks and cars were at a standstill. This was not like Chicago rush hour traffic, we were in the middle of freaking nowhere going nowhere.

Emily yelled out to the trucker next to us "Excuse me sir... SIR! SIR DO YOU KNOW WHAT'S GOING ON?" His 18 wheeler towered above us and he shouted down, "Seems they closed the interstate 'cause of the wind and dust. Might not open until 7:00 p.m." I have never itched so much in my life. "That's over 7 hours from now," I moaned and scratched. "We can't sit here for that long...oh God I have to pee already." I got out of the car to talk to the folks who were milling around , while Emily called her sister to help us. She lives in Boston. "Yep, looks like the interstate is closed until the wind dies down," the guy three cars ahead confirmed. I felt faint, sweaty and slightly nauseous. I was only certain of one thing at that moment - he might sit out here for 7 hours but I sure as hell wasn't planning on it. I called the Winslow Police Department for advice. "Ma'am you're just going to have to wait, " a woman drawled. Last week the dust and wind was so bad there was a 20 car pile-up. Couldn't see a foot in front of you." "Well....well what if I just go across the culvert and turn around?" I implored. "Ma'am , ma'am, listen to me, you'll be arrested!" Only if I get caught, I theorized. I eyed the ditch I had to cross to escape. Could my little Civic make it? And why why why wasn't anyone else heading back to Flagstaff like I wanted to do? "Emily we have to get out of here and it's now or none of us will pee for 7 hours." I think the dog agreed.

The car had to make it. I no longer cared about being arrested, I just wanted out of the 15 mile line of vehicles. As I was agonizing over our escape I saw a car enact my plan. Hell if he could do it I could. "Here we go Thelma" I laughed as I turned the wheel and jammed my foot on the gas. Go little Honda go! Down the culvert and up the other side we flew. "Whoa Nelly!" (I was still being John Wayne). We were on our way in the opposite direction of Chicago but we didn't care. Only two things were important now - not seeing a Sheriff's car chasing me and a bottle of wine in Flagstaff.

Stay tuned for more cross country adventures of Gail, Emily and beefy boy Elliot.