First Church of Latter-Day Motorists

Nevada High Desert Run (Part 4)

Under the militant gaze of a marauding Californian condor, I broke into US 6/95 at high noon for new territory, escorted by twisting dust devils that threatened to outflank me from either side of the road.

Nevada High Desert Run (Part 3)

Breaking out onto the road, I powered onwards to my next checkpoint: Tonopah, NV. I remember traveling in the opposite direction, two years ago, after sixteen hours straight on the road. My heart was palpitating, so mentally clocked out from the fatigue that I couldn't remember that I was starving and that I had bought food less than twenty minutes ago for that exact problem. That was the must brutal, punishing hours I've ever faced on the road, but I like to think I'm wiser for it.

Nevada High Desert Run (Part 2)

The first thing I noticed about this car is that merely getting behind the wheel, you immediately get a feeling that you’ve gained a shade or two of what I'll call "reserved might."

Nevada High Desert Run (Part 1)

There’s something promising about waking up on a morning and knowing you’re going on a trip. There’s a certain freedom about it, a lot of possibilities waiting on the horizon. Right now the main possibility I’m wondering about is how much Hertz can make my wallet Hurt because I haven’t figured out how to turn off the parking brake on their 2013 Mercedes E350 and might very well damage it--never mind the COMAND satnav they have in this car, utterly breaking my stride.

Tides of Change (Part 2)

The ocean stands before me, vast and sparkling with sunlight. It's tides rise and crash, then quietly recede to build up strength and once more send a spray of white foam upon the pristine beach sands and sunburnt rocks. I've got no idea how anyone could fall asleep to the sound of waves crashing--the pugnacious tides are too loud, too explosive in energy, too irregular.

Tides of Change (Part 1)

I didn't feel like going home for the third time on January 20, 2014, so after a few hours of hanging out with my mates I jumped into my car and just started driving. I had no idea where I was going, and only knew that I wanted to go really far and hopefully wind up getting lost, or maybe find something useful after a bit of trouble that usually follows these wild tangents.

Las Vegas to Seattle and Back in Three Days (Part 6)

I made it to Tonopah about an hour later. After refueling, I went in the convenience store to use the bathroom and restock on snacks. I met a truck driver, and curious to measure the weight of my lunacy, asked him how long they usually drive before they're off the clock and have to sleep. He told me eight hours. I was now pushing into my 15th hour. Having endured the road for so long, I let him know how much respect I've discovered for truckers and then went on my way. I took a backward glance the McDonald's on across the gas station, fondly remembering the time I nearly got stuck in the snow in the parking lot the year before.

Las Vegas to Seattle and Back in Three Days (Part 5)

As soon as I stepped hard on the accelerator, that all familiar surge of power eagerly pinned me to the seat. A side ward glance showed the moonlit countryside grass blur into shrubs, and shrubs into the towering pines of Modoc National Forest. By then the engine screamed in full overload as I charged up the ascent, hooked a curve and powered through a roller-coaster patch of dips and rises while Mexican speed metal thrashed at max volume. I distinctly remember one bug literally disintegrating across the windshield, but my focus was as close to laser sharp as it could be. The electronic speed governor kicked in and could swear it felt like I'd driven into an invisible wall of water. I was mildly disappointed that even a car that drove and performed this great couldn't be saved from executive meddling. It dawned upon me that if I tried a run this quick in my 07 GT, I'd have flown off the road and been wrapped around a tree in record time. Or perhaps cleared an embankment to experience a moment of panicked horror before detonating like a giant ketchup filled balloon. There was no doubt in my mind that if they let this car do what it really could from the factory, it'd cannibalize sales of the 2010 Mustang GT. It didn't matter though, it was going was plenty quick enough.

Las Vegas to Seattle and Back in Three Days (Part 4)

They had so much cool shit there it's unbelievable. I toured biplane replicas and World War 1 planes, but I think the second best thing I saw there was the P-51 Mustang they had on display. It was actually a bit shorter than I thought it'd be in real life, but the engine that powered the thing was massive.

Las Vegas to Seattle and Back in Three Days (Part 3)

I woke with the alarm clock, with sun rays on my face, quite glad that I wasn't waking up in Vegas. Renewed, I hit the ground running and showered and then checked out of the motel in what must've been a personal record time, only somewhat disappointed that I'd missed the free continental breakfast that ends at 7am.

Las Vegas to Seattle and Back in Three Days (Part 2)

Saint Jeremy, Son of Clark, and no doubt every self help guru to ever exist, have said that if you believe something is going to happen, it will. Unfortunately, I only had half a tank of gas left as I approached a small settlement of Ely, NV. I know what you're thinking: half a tank of gas should be plenty, and you're right, but then you'd be breaking the second commandment of solo grand touring. To avoid running out of gas, a most embarrassing shame, thou shall have no less than half a tank of gas at any time.

Las Vegas to Seattle and Back in Three Days (Part 1)

Around July 2011, I think it was on the 14th, I was in a bit of a bind. Everything else was fine except I really didn't enjoy the work I was doing. I hadn't been able to sleep well for months. Every time I tried, my heart would start racing as if I was in physical danger and my body was primed into a fight or fight state, dreading the time I have to wake up the next day. Until I got fed up.