2200 Miles Across the Sea... An Odyssey

It began on Monday morning... at about 6am...

Ann and I loaded up the rest of our belongings into my Jeep Cherokee, transported two cats into their traveling cage and set off for a 2200 mile journey across the country – towing everything I own in a 6x12 trailer.

We made it 20 minutes from Tucson when the gaff tape securing the front end of my Jeep came loose and began flapping in the wind. We pulled over to reaffix the tape when we heard a torrential downpour coming from the underside of the vehicle. Alas, it was raining coolant. Everywhere. The entire undercarriage was dripping with the green stuff. After a quick call to Jason and to my mechanic, I was reassured that I had merely overfilled the reservoir and as the Jeep heated up, would have to purge somewhere...

We drove into Tucson for our first fuel stop – no raining undercarriage – and decided that all was well.

We realized we had a problem about 20 minutes later... somewhere around mile marker 290. My temp guage started to spike and my RPMs were running really high on some of the smaller hills... and having seized an engine once before, I knew I wanted to get off the road before I did permanent damage.

We pulled over at mile marker 295, called AAA and waited for our tow. And since we were two girls traveling with two cats and stranded in the middle of the desert, we were put on 'priority' status – meaning someone would be there within 30 minutes.

An hour and ten minutes later, “Big Dave” arrived.

The first words out of Big Dave's mouth were, “Didn't anyone tell you you're overloaded?!!”

Umm.... no?

Big Dave proceeds to tell us that he can tell just by looking at how low the Jeep is sitting that she's hauling more than she can tow. I tell him that she sits that low with the trailer empty. He says he's not surprised and that if the guys installing my hitch didn't catch it, the guy who popped the trailer on the back of my Jeep should have.

Great.

So, he pulls the Jeep up on the back of his truck, hitches up the trailer and tows us (and the cats) to his garage in Benson, Arizona.

It's now crawling up on 11:30am Monday.

They run diagnostics on the Jeep and decide that she's fine... but there's no way she'll haul our load all the way to Florida. Time to improvise.

We call U-Haul and they offer to transfer our contract over to a 10-foot box truck with a tow dolly on the back for the Jeep. So, at 3pm in 112-degree heat, we transfer all of my belongings from the trailer into the box truck with nary an inch to spare. (With special thanks to our new friend, Matthew – a truck driver waiting for a repair at the same shop – who was enthralled by our cats and happy to have audience for his 'cwazy stowies'.) The cats have to give up their spacious crate for a single cat-carrier that will fit between the bucket seats in the cab of the truck, but it looks like we're all going to fit.

The mechanic disconnects my drive line and hooks the Jeep up to the tow dolly and we close down the shop at 5:30 after paying $350 for the tow, diagnostic, and drive line disconnect... and another $1900 for the new U-Haul contract. (I didn't actually get a receipt or contract for this new set-up and was told the $1900. was only for the tow dolly... this will be important information later.)

After a quick stop at Wendy's to pee and get situated, we were back on our way by 6:30pm. A 7-hour delay in Benson, Arizona was enough to take the wind out of my sails without the added $2000+ expense... but we were determined.

We drove until we hit Las Cruces, New Mexico.

We hit a rest stop around midnight that overlooked the city lights and caught a 4-hour nap. As the sun was beginning to light the horizon at 4:30am, we drove to meet it... dreading the day ahead of us.

My timeline gets fuzzy around this part because there was no change in landscape between Arizona and Texas, but we crossed the state line somewhere around 8 or 9 in the morning (Texas time?). I knew going in that this would be the longest, most tedious stretch of the drive. And it was.

We crossed into Texas at the Mexico border and drove right into the Wild Wild West.

Federales, Border Patrol, Dogs... several miles of high fences and SUV's parked on their not-so-grassy knolls watching the south... we held our breath as they asked us to state our citizenship. I stammered... as it's not a typical question I get... and said “Here?” (Blank stares.) “OH! America!! I'm an American citizen!”

They waved us through while Ann was still rolling her eyes and giggling at me.

An entire day of Texas... Texas... nothing but Texas... Everything is NOT bigger in Texas. It's mostly the same size. Except their speed limits are slightly higher - which would have been cool had we not been in a 10-foot box truck towing a Jeep Cherokee and only capable of going about 60-65MPH. Even that speed had Ann screaming “SLOW DOWN” at regular intervals, so.. thanks for the thought, Texas.

Ann took a shift behind the wheel later in the day which had her going through Houston during rush hour traffic – an ordeal that required a stop afterward so we could both change our soiled underclothes.

The landscape changed very suddenly when we got into eastern Texas. The desert virtually disappears with a monolithic cityscape, which then dissolves into trees and rolling plains.

Now, Texas wasn't horrible... it's just a HUGE state and much of the drive is tedious (and contrary to common belief that the drive is straight and flat, it's got some frequent hills and valleys.) So, it only added to the general state of panic to discover that Wells Fargo had frozen my debit card (after having been used at only gas stations from south AZ to Texas) and the $2000+ from 'Big Dave's Towing and Auto' had maxed me to my limit on those funds. I had a four-hour stretch in Texas where I was genuinely and sincerely concerned that we were going to be stranded in the middle of the country without any gas money to get us to our destination. I was seriously sunk.

Until Jason saved the day from all the way back in AZ – after having sold some of the items I left back home, he went above and beyond to make sure I could have access to those funds (even cancelling his own birthday dinner to make it happen.) It worked out that funds became available mere minutes before we'd have to stop for gas.

We had some serious guardian angels hooking us up along the way.

And so we crossed into Louisiana territory sometime in the dead of night and began the harrowing experience of navigating the bayou.

I will add here that Louisiana was the ONE state we were both looking forward to seeing. Of course it was just our luck that we'd drive through in the dead of night.

As if that wasn't bad enough, I discovered (the hard way) that Louisiana has the worst roads ever. EVER. Two slender lanes of highway traffic were hugged on either side by cement barricades and the only other vehicles on the road were ginormous trucks captained by sleepy drivers. We were run off of the road by one such driver... who, in an attempt to pass us, never quite made it all the way over to the left lane and started drifting back almost immediately. I pulled over once he got within inches of my rearview mirror and we sat on the shoulder for a second – shaking and breathing and willing our heart rates to return to normal. We watched him bob and weave his way through about the next 60 miles before we lost him. Scariest moments of my life so far... driving in Louisiana at night. Not cool. Not cool at all.

There was a stretch of road between Louisiana and Mississippi that was particularly bumpy and I swore I saw two cars swerve out of the way behind me... we stopped to check that the back of the Jeep hadn't popped open and after satisfying our curiosity that nothing was amiss, we continued.

At the Mississippi state line (and after 26 hours straight since New Mexico) we hit a rest stop for another nap around 6am... this one lasted only about an hour. I woke up realizing we'd been boxed in on either side by huge semi trucks and were breathing in the most toxic fumes I've ever inhaled in my life (and I've inhaled a LOT of toxic fumes!) After a cowgirl shower in the rest stop bathroom, we continued on – ignoring the slight headache and the stench burned into my nostrils.

Mississippi and Alabama were a bit of a bleary-eyed blur – I saw my first water in the form of a bay entering Alabama and I cried. But as soon as we entered those states, we seemed to be on our way out of them.

We crossed the state line into Florida – elated – and got pulled over within about 5-10 minutes.

Why?

Apparently I missed the sign for the Agricultural Inspection Station. I thought it was just another weigh-station for the commercial trucks, but there's a little addendum that says “All Rental Vehicles” are required to stop. To skip it is a ticket, $180. fine and a Class II Misdemeanor on your license.

Oops.

After my “I didn't see it and I'm new here” speech, the cop had me unlock the back of the truck so he could peek and made me promise not to miss the next one. I had my speech all prepared when we drove up to the perplexed looking inspector.

“Coming from Phoenix to Sarasota. Two domestic cats, no fruits or vegetables, no live plants.”

We were waved through without a second glance.

Jacksonville teased me for hours. I saw a sign that said 279 miles to Jacksonville. After driving for at least an hour and a half, I saw another sign that said 282 miles to Jacksonville. I'm not kidding you. It's like being stuck in the Twilight Zone. The more you drive, the further away you get from your destination. I was cursing Jacksonville at regular intervals.

We finally arrived in Tampa and celebrated with more gas and some food before hitting the last hourlong stretch.

We arrived at our apartment somewhere around 10:30/11pm and I promptly had a breakdown in the parking lot of 'Barnacle Bills' (across from my complex) where we parked the U-Haul and the Jeep.

Part of my emotional collapse was having been through the ordeal of driving for three days (with a 7-hour delay and truck transfer in Benson, AZ) with the cats and all of the other minor setbacks. Part of it was the relief that we finally made it here. Part of it was arriving road-weary and emotionally spent and having no one on my destination end to hold me and tell me everything was going to be ok.

Yup. I'm still a needy little princess, aren't I?

But hey, I drove 2200 miles across the country under less than stellar circumstances and got all of my stuff here intact. Humans and animals included!

I mean, it's no huge accomplishment. People used to make that same journey in covered wagons and shit, so who am I to crow?

But man, do I feel like a beast!!!

We had another slight hiccup when we returned the truck to U-Haul only to discover that when they disconnected my drive line, they didn't secure my drive shaft properly. We believe it fell out somewhere on that bumpy road to love between Louisiana and Alabama – and that's why I saw cars swerve. It apparently bounced off of my gas tank and escaped the undercarriage without doing any major damage... but my first few days in Sarasota were spent tracking down a new drive shaft, a U-joint, and now a mechanic that can replace all the transmission fluid that was lost. Awesome!

All told, U-Haul made $2886. off of us this move (and we're fighting for credit back, since the first contract for the hitch and trailer only lasted two days before we had to change it up) and cost me an additonal $500 in repairs to the Jeep (which I've also claimed against their insurance). Not to mention the fact that we were supposed to get credit on the second contract and 'Big Dave' made it sound like we did, but paid through the nose for the dolly instead... not so much. Shady people, shady business.

Expensive? Yes.

Will I ever move with U-Haul again? Not in a million years.

Am I glad to be “home”?

Boy, you'd better believe it!!!