The Adventure Begins.........The Road Hits Back...Albuquerque......... the Damage

The Adventure Begins

Jesse was true to his word. At the first off ramp outside the construction zone, he pulled off Interstate 40 so we could refuel and check the damage to my rig. I already knew I had lost the lights on the fenders of both my truck and my horse trailer but other than that I had no idea what the damage might be.

That passenger side fender on my dually has been crunched a couple of times so I know from experience it doesn't take much to compromise the fiberglass. Whether or not hitting those sand filled pylons at 55 mph was enough to wreck that fender or not was in question. Although that fender "only" had small chunks out of it, as well as that broken light, I wasn't prepared for the rest of the damage to my rig.



It looked like someone or something had tried to rip my horse trailer fender right off the frame. The section of the trailer fender that attaches to the body of the horse trailer was peeled back and the fender itself was pushed into the tire, along with an assortment of dents and paint peels.

One side of the front of my horse trailer was caved in from the whiplash effect that resulted from my swerve to avoid hitting the pylons head on. The offending part of my truck, its bumper was crumpled up as well.

Then the off side of the horse trailer had an assortment of scrapes from tangling with the concrete Jersey barriers. Along with a crumple at the bottom back of the fender from hitting some kind of low spot in this process.

Structurally my horse trailer was still sound. However, we had to take a tire iron to raise the one bent fender up so it was no longer making contact with the tire. All in all, I probably got off easy considering what could have happened to me and my horses had I hit those pylons head on.

I probably should have been grateful.........BUT truthfully I was really pissed off. Mostly I was mad at the New Mexico DOT for setting up a traffic lane that was inherently unsafe, a speed limit that didn't fit the circumstances.......and at myself for trusting they knew what they were doing.....because obviously they DIDN'T. Then I was mad this trip just would NOT give me a break. Seemed like every time I turned around something else was smacking me down. AND thirdly I was mad I was in this mess ALONE! What was I thinking???????

If you're wondering by this time if I was thinking maybe I wasn't meant to be on this trip, the answer to that question would be an unequivocal yes. If it hadn't meant travelling alone without proper maps and such to get me there, I might just have been tempted to turn around and head home.

At this point the only thing keeping me moving on to Tulsa was my faith Jesse knew how to get there. My fear was bigger of being stranded somewhere alone than making it to the show. I wasn't even sure anymore if I'd get there in one piece.......but the odds that something more bad might happened seemed to be slim.........or at least, that's what I hoped because after our brief stop at this station, I was once again following Jesse down the road to Tulsa...............and the US All Arabian Half-Arabian National Horse Show. I mean really.........what could happen next?

To be continued.................

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The Adventure Begins.........The Road Hits Back...Albuquerque.........

The Adventure Begins

As we pulled out of the rest stop and back onto Interstate 40, I called Jesse to thank him for taking the extra time to give me a break. I knew he didn't need to stop rotating between two drivers resting for two hours had totally been about me.

The first few miles in the early morning darkness I was wide awake. However, the monotony of the drive was hammering away at my resolve. Again I began looking for little goals I could achieve. The first obvious one was making the Arizona border and moving into New Mexico. From there Albuquerque was the next big goal. I couldn't help but wish Nationals was still held there.

In the meantime I waited and watched for any sign of sunrise. I knew myself enough to know that daylight would bring with in much need mental acuity even if I was sleep deprived. Funny how sunrise can sneak up on you even when you're watching. Before I knew it the New Mexico skys were visible and I found myself remembering those sky those fourteen years ago when I arrived in Albuquerque with Dandy.

The timing of that horse show had been the same as the Albuquerque International Balloon Festival Just the thought of all those brightly colored hot air balloon littering the Albuquerque skies made this drive a bit lighter. I knew the festival had been earlier this year. There was no chance we'd be getting a glimpse of that phenomenon again. Albuquerque had another kind of surprise in store for me.

The construction zones across the central United States had started in Arizona and continued on through New Mexico into Texas and even on into Oklahoma. There was a heck of a lot of construction. It made driving difficult. Some of the signs said it was the government stimulus package at work. How much of this construction was funded that way I don't really know.

Those construction zones were set up differently than I'm used to here in Washington. While the signs read "FINES DOUBLE IN WORK ZONES" the slower posted speed limits were much higher. Not only that but the construction workers seemed to be always flagging us through.........faster......faster. Here in Washington those flaggers are always signaling drivers to go slower............slower.

By the time we reached Albuquerque it was rush hour. The construction zone pushed us down to one lane. The rush hour drivers were dive bombing for that lane with little regard for the workers or other drivers. If you didn't keep up, the odds were you'd get run over. The frantic pace was terrifying.

As if that wasn't enough that one lane was not really a true lane. The DOT had set up their orange and white sand filled pylons inside the dotted white line that should have been the right barrier for the far left lane. That forced the traffic to maneuver through with part of each vehicle in the lane and the balance on the shoulder.

Of course, that shoulder was edged with those concrete Jersey barriers. Trying to keep my rig centered between these obstacles was a nightmare. I found myself straddling the groove outside the solid white line that's supposed to be the lane edge. You know the groove........the one that causes that noise to wake sleeping drivers. Driving along that trough made for tough steering.

At one point I hit some kind of rut and it pitched my truck drastically to the right. Suddenly I was faced with three of those heavy pylons directly in my path. I jerk the wheel swiftly to the left and avoided hitting the pylons head on, however, I took out at least one of them with the fender on my dually and another with the fender on my horse trailer. My rig seemed to bounce from the pylons off to the Jersey barriers before I was able to get it back under control.

I immediately called Jesse to let him know what I'd done. My truck seemed to be travelling ok but it was clear I needed to get out of this traffic and find a place to survey the damage to my truck and horse trailer. With Jesse in the lead we headed for the nearest off ramp out of the construction zone.

To be continued........................

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The Adventure Begins.........The Road Hits Back...Getting By.........

The Adventure Begins

When all was said and done, I'd spent over $800 on new tires and an extra rim for my horse trailer. It was well past dark when the job was finally finished and Jesse mentioned we still have about twenty-three hours of travel left in front of us. The emotional drain of all this stuff was taking it's toll. I was beginning to wonder if I could complete this drive by myself.

I think Jesse was worried about it too although he never said. While he didn't want me to hold him up, he didn't want me to have problems either. He mentioned in passing that he might be able to stop for an hour or maybe two max so I could rest. That was all I needed to rekindle my resolve. I knew from past experience I could make Tulsa with a break......even that short.

So once again we headed down the road. Jesse in the lead and me following his trailer lights in the dark. We got onto Interstate 40 and began the long stretch to Tulsa. If I remember my MapQuest correctly, it was over a thousand miles down this interstate before we'd be anywhere near our destination of Tulsa.

I tried not to think about that fact often. I found it depressing. Instead I thought about when would be the best time to take my break. I knew if I timed it right, the rest of the drive would be manageable. With a little thought I decided the most difficult times of the night for me would be those late night hours just before dawn. If we stopped at around 2 AM and stayed until 4, I would be resting through the worst of it. Refreshed from the break, I'd be able to make it through the last hours of darkness. Once the sun rose, I would have renewed energy to get me through to Tulsa.

With this plan finally determined, I just set about following Jesse. Other than making sure we stopped when I needed fuel, staying on Jesse's tail was my major focus. As the hour got later, the traffic became more sporadic. The lights of the horse trailer in front on me danced hypnotically.

There's always been something about a well lit horse trailer against the dark night that reminds me of graceful dancers. I'm not sure why that is. I only know I've had this impression many times before. It doesn't stem from fatigue or lack of sleep. There's something about them that keeps me focused and lends reassurance as well. I just love the look of those lights running down the darkness.

The later it got, the more I focused on making it until 2 AM. I found myself in a mental game willing myself through this treacherous drive against time and dreaded sleep. Road signs with mileage got translated into terms relating to that goal. Each a manageable step in my quest to ward off the monotony courted by sleep.


When I felt I couldn't make it another mile, I told Jesse I was ready to stop. Before long he pulled off into a rest area along side the Interstate. The place was dark and filled with semi trucks already tucked in for the night. At the far end Jesse found parking spots for both of us. We pulled in and turned off our engines and out lights.

First I got my phone out to set my alarm. I wanted to no take one minute longer on this break than Jesse had been willing to give so I set the time for 3:45. That gave me a few minutes to be wide awake and put things in order for the drive. Then I quickly went through my routine setting up a place to sleep.

The horses had been feed and watered at our last stop for fuel. They stood quietly in the trailer allowing me to sleep. Before I knew it my phone was signaling it was time to get up.............

Keep in mind at this point it had now been almost seventy hours since I'd risen Saturday morning to begin this trip. During that time I had actually sleep about ten hours. Yet, I didn't groan or even set the snooze alarm when my phone woke me. My eyes no longer felt laden with the weight of much needed sleep. I actually felt ready to proceed on with the trip despite only getting about an hour and a half of sleep.

By the time I put my bedding away and my boots back on, Jesse had turned the lights on to his rig. He was ready to get back on the road. I was ready to but in the back of my mind I was trying to do the math to figure out how many miles we actually had left.


To be continued...................

The Road Hits Back.......Albuquerque

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The Adventure Begins.........The Road Hits Back...Not Again.........

The Adventure Begins

My mind raced with the possibilities. Was there something endangering my horses? Was my truck or trailer on fire? What........what could be the problem?

I rolled my window down and the man in the car did the same. Then I heard him say I had blown out tire on my trailer. How could this be? This time I hadn't heard anything........nor had I felt anything. How could I have another blow out?

In disbelief, I began looking for a place on the shoulder to pull my rig as I watched Jesse pulling farther away from me. I carefully pulled my truck and horse trailer off the road and onto the shoulder being sure I was clear of traffic. Then I grabbed the walkie talkie Jesse had given me to let him know what had happened.

Now I could see Jesse's rig finding its way to the shoulder farther down the road. Jesse responded asking me if I could get down to where he was so they could help me get my tire changed. If I proceeded slowly, I thought, I just might be able to make that half mile down the road to Jesse without doing too much damage to my rim. I started my truck back up and carefully began creeping down the shoulder.

I hadn't gone far when a truck pulling a red boat whizzed past me. Then it darted onto the shoulder and backed up towards me. A man jumped out, running back towards my truck. As I lowered my window to talk to him, this man asked me if I had a spare. He told me if I'd pull farther off the road, he could change my tire for me.

Then the man moved his rig up farther giving me room to get deeper onto the shoulder. I called Jesse to let him know what was happening as I reparked my rig. Then I saw the man coming towards me with a hydraulic jack in tow. This guy was really prepared for situations like this.

Next I unlocked my tack room to get at my spare trailer tire. There right in front of me were a couple of traffic ones. I've always carried a couple of traffic cones just in case of emergencies like this.However, I've never used them before. I grabbed those cones and set them out along the roadway up close to the line. Hopefully making the passing drivers more aware of the jeopardy of this good Samaritan changing my tire.

Once I finally had the spare, you know, the one I'd just bought the day before at Wal-Mart, dug out from underneath all that miscellaneous horse junk, I took it around to this man. Then I began to tell him about my first blowout and my disbelief at having another. It was then he said to me he criss crosses the country a lot. There's one thing he's learned about tires in this process. If they blow it's usually due to bad stems or aged tires.

These tires had been purchased a little over a year ago so I thought it couldn't possibly be age. Bad stems he said were easy to tell, you could just flick them off with your fingers. But we wouldn't want to do that until we got to a tire store. That was his recommendation. The next thing I needed to do was head straight to a tire store, not just to get another spare but to check out my other tires. If not, I'd surely see another blowout before I ever finished my trip.

When he'd completed changing my tire, I thanked the man. He turned out to be a retired fire fighter. Helping people is a way of life for him. He couldn't seemed to quit even though he was supposed to be retired.

It really wasn't long at all and I was back on the road following Jesse. I called Jesse to let him know what this man had told me we needed to do. Jesse was certain there was a station with tires not to far from us in Kingman Arizona.

It was after hours when we reached our destination. There was a semi truck pulled in front of us waiting for the tire expert to return. The station owner thought the driver of the semi was out of luck but was confident that they'd have what we'd need to get back on the road again.

Even before the tire guy arrived, I noticed that new tire from Wal-Mart seemed to have lost some air. I don't think we'd gone much farther than twenty miles or so but the tire was clearly lower than when it had been mounted on my trailer.

When the tire expert arrived I had come to an important conclusion. I wanted to have two spare tires and not just one. I didn't want to be spending anymore time hunting for spares if I should get into trouble again. Right off that meant at the very least I'd be purchasing two tires and an extra rim.

Then I thought we'd be putting those two new tires on the trailer not to take any chances. Since I supposedly had two new spares on now, that would give me new tires all the way around. I could use the two other tires for spares.

However, the tire expert confirmed the former fire-fighter's beliefs. The tires on my horse trailer, despite being recently purchased were indeed aged tires. Close up to the edge of each tire was stamped a date of 2004. That made this tires five years old........an age inappropriate for a trip such as this. That meant instead of buying two tires, I was no buying four. I could use my two former spares as spare tires again. The odds were I wouldn't need them before I made it home.

Then there was the question of the Wal-Mart tire. It was indeed leaking air. The tire expert believed they had installed a car stem on this tire instead of a heavy duty steel stem intended for trailers. Car stems are only rated to hold 35 pounds of pressure. The pressure on most trailer tires would be 60 pounds or more. Had I tried to run any distance on the Wal-Mart tire, it would have blown too.

To be continued................

The Road Hits Back......Getting By

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You Take The Horse; I'll Gladly Take The Dog

By Dave Barry

RECENTLY a woman I know named Michelle came into the newspaper office with a big ugly wound on her upper arm. Realizing that she might be self-conscious about it, I said: "Michelle, what's that big ugly wound on your upper arm?" Sensitivity is the cornerstone of journalism.

It turned out that Michelle had been bitten by a horse. It was her own horse, and it bit her while she was trying to feed it.

This is a typical horse maneuver. Horses are the opposite of dogs, gratitude-wise. You give a dog something totally wretched to eat, such as a toad part or a wad of pre-chewed Dentyne, and the dog will henceforth view you as the Supreme Being.

It will gaze on you for hours with rapt adoration and lick the ground you walk on and try to kill the pizza-delivery person if he comes anywhere near you.

Whereas if you spend hours grooming a horse and lugging its food and water around, the horse will be thinking: "Should I chomp on this person's arm? Or should I merely blow a couple gallons of horse snot into this person's hair?"

I don't trust horses. "Never trust an animal with feet made from the same material as bowling balls" is one of my mottoes. I never believed those scenes in Western movies when bad guys would tie the hero up, and his horse would trot over and untie the knots with his teeth. A real horse would size up the situation and stomp on the hero's feet.

I don't blame horses for being hostile. I myself would feel hostile toward somebody who was always sitting on me and yanking on my lips. But what I don't get is, how come they're so popular? Especially with women?

Now, you're probably saying: "Dave, you're just bitter because in fifth grade you had an intense crush on Susan Cartoun, and you wrote `Sue' on your notebook inside a heart, but the name inside the heart on her notebook was `Frosty,' an imaginary horse that she loved much more than you, despite the fact that, if Frosty ever had the chance, it would have got imaginary snot in her hair."

Yes, it's true that I am a little bitter about that. Also, I have not forgotten my first experience with a horse. I was 9 years old, at a farm, and I attempted to ride a pony.

"Pony" is a misunderstood word. Many young people, having grown up watching the "My Little Pony" cartoon show, believe that a pony is a cute little pastel-colored critter with a perky voice and a nurturing personality and a 1973 Farrah Fawcett hair style. Whereas, in fact, a typical pony is the same weight as an Oldsmobile Cutlass Supreme but with no controls or moral code.

Anyway, following my sister's directions, I put my foot into the metal thing hanging down from the pony (technically, the "fetlock"), and instantly the pony, not wishing to be boarded at that time, trotted briskly off, with my leg attached to it.

I attempted to keep up by bouncing next to it on my other leg, like the famous Western cinematic star, Hopalong Dork, but finally, in a feat of astonishing equestrian skill, I fell down backward and got dragged across the field with my head bouncing gaily behind amongst the cow doots.

I could tell the pony enjoyed this immensely. It couldn't wait to get back to the stable and tell the other horses via Snort Language.

"You should have seen his hair!" snorted the pony. "He'll need to shampoo with industrial solvents!"

"Next time," snorted one of the older horses, "try stepping on him. It's like dropping an anvil on a Hostess Twinkie."

"And the legal authorities can't prosecute, because we're horses," snorted another.

So I stayed off horses altogether until 20 years later, when I was courting my wife. We were in the Rocky Mountains, and they had rental horses, and she wanted to ride one.

Naturally, she loves horses. As a child, she used to ride a neighbor's horse bareback, an experience she remembers fondly even though she admits the horse would regularly try to decapitate her by running under low tree branches at 27 miles per hour.

I don't want to sound like a broken record here, but why is it that a woman will forgive homicidal behavior in a horse, yet be highly critical of a man for leaving the toilet seat up?

But I was in Raging Hormone Courting Mode, meaning I would have wrestled a giant snake to impress my wife-to-be, so I let her talk me into getting on this rental horse.

It turned its head around and looked at me with one of those horse eyeballs the size of a mature grapefruit, and I knew instantly what it was thinking. It was thinking: "Hey! It's Hopalong Dork!"

So while my wife's horse trotted briskly off into the scenery, looking for low branches to run under, my horse just stood there, eating and pooping, waiting for me to put one leg on the ground so it could suddenly take off and drag me to Oregon.

So I sat very still, like one of those statue generals, only more rigid. I'd say we moved about 11 feet in two hours. Next time I am definitely renting the snake.

Fortunately, my wife's horse was unable to kill her, and we got married and lived happily ever after, except that she keeps saying that she wants us to go riding again.

I don't know what to do. I think maybe tonight I'll fix her a candlelight dinner, give her some wine, and put on some soft, romantic music. Then, when the moment is just right, I will gently but firmly bite her upper arm.


Dave Barry's column appears Monday on The Times' editorial page.


A friend sent me this via email. I thought I'd share before I lost track of it. Then I thought the picture of Legs probably reflected his attitude about the whole thing. Can't you just see him laughing at us silly humans?

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