Thursday, September 17, 2009
Blogger Rendezvous Pt. II - The Trip Out
We disembarked on Wendesday of last week. Our route was rather simple: Take I-40 over to Kingman, AZ and then head north from there.
We soon found out that the gas tank's capacity was only 12 gallons. That makes for a lot more gas stops than I am used to.
Everything went fine until Kingman. I have a NM CCW and a Utah CCW. Well, right about the time we were making reservations and planning this trip, Nevada decided it would no longer recognize UT licenses. They never recognized NM.
So I unload and case in Kingman. The bitch was, my extractor broke while I was unloading. I brought a one-shot 1911 to Reno. Ended up using my dad's. Needless to say, I ordered 2 extractors upon returning home.
Then, at the Nevada border, we hit the Hoover Dam. If you read that link, it is word for word bullshit. There were no bypass signs posted, no indication of what kind of clusterfuck you were driving into, and no non-commercial route.
At the dam, we got a little freaked out. It looked like they were searching every 5th car. At that particular moment, we realized that we had a Russian sniper rifle in the car, along with a shitload of Russian ammo, and I was smoking Ukrainian cigarettes. Luckily, we weren't the on in five, or whatever.
Nonetheless, it took an extra hour just to get through a fucking dam.
That put us in Vegas right around rush hour. We're from New Mexico; we're a couple of hicks, at this point. It freaked me out.
We agreed that we would stop at the first good looking place north of Vegas. I didn't realize that there is pretty much nothing between Vegas and Reno. ZERO.
We finally stopped in a town called Beatty and it was a lot better than I thought it would be. We ate and drank (and smoked) at the Sourdough Saloon, which was 100 feet from the door of our motel room. I don't understand why anybody would be in Beatty, but if you are, the Sourdough has the best burger I've had in several years.
Past that, we arrived and fucked around with valet parking and dyslectic bell-hops.
More to follow.
We soon found out that the gas tank's capacity was only 12 gallons. That makes for a lot more gas stops than I am used to.
Everything went fine until Kingman. I have a NM CCW and a Utah CCW. Well, right about the time we were making reservations and planning this trip, Nevada decided it would no longer recognize UT licenses. They never recognized NM.
So I unload and case in Kingman. The bitch was, my extractor broke while I was unloading. I brought a one-shot 1911 to Reno. Ended up using my dad's. Needless to say, I ordered 2 extractors upon returning home.
Then, at the Nevada border, we hit the Hoover Dam. If you read that link, it is word for word bullshit. There were no bypass signs posted, no indication of what kind of clusterfuck you were driving into, and no non-commercial route.
At the dam, we got a little freaked out. It looked like they were searching every 5th car. At that particular moment, we realized that we had a Russian sniper rifle in the car, along with a shitload of Russian ammo, and I was smoking Ukrainian cigarettes. Luckily, we weren't the on in five, or whatever.
Nonetheless, it took an extra hour just to get through a fucking dam.
That put us in Vegas right around rush hour. We're from New Mexico; we're a couple of hicks, at this point. It freaked me out.
We agreed that we would stop at the first good looking place north of Vegas. I didn't realize that there is pretty much nothing between Vegas and Reno. ZERO.
We finally stopped in a town called Beatty and it was a lot better than I thought it would be. We ate and drank (and smoked) at the Sourdough Saloon, which was 100 feet from the door of our motel room. I don't understand why anybody would be in Beatty, but if you are, the Sourdough has the best burger I've had in several years.
Past that, we arrived and fucked around with valet parking and dyslectic bell-hops.
More to follow.
