... the steady hum of air conditioners...
Until three days ago, the a/c in the RV was never necessary, despite some pretty high temperatures in Santa Fe, but here at Lake Travis... it's going to 91 degrees today, and the humidity is a damp 96% outside the door. Now, this is unusual for Austin, but then the whole summer has been unusual, normally they expect no more than two or three days with temperatures above 100, but this year they've seen triple digits for almost seventy days, and absolutely no rain - until two weeks ago... Boat owners on Lake Travis either have to lower their boats on 50 foot davits to reach the water, or drag them half a mile across the lake floor to the waters edge, the place looks like a muddy quarry. Lots of rain forecast for the winter. We made the right decision earlier to head south, the Denver area had snow and ice last weekend, a fifty car pile up in Colorado Springs, and Montana was seeing temperatures more than 40 degrees lower than average... I'm glad Climate Change is just a myth....
The trip from Albuquerque was not exactly uneventful to say the least, there were two choices of route, take the Interstate west of the mountains through Las Cruces and El Paso, or stay on the east side and drive US 285 down through Carlsbad, NM to I-10 at Fort Stockton, which being some 100 miles or so shorter, was the obvious route of choice. All was well until we reached the Texas line, where some 20 miles later a big orange diversion sign appeared, there was bridge work ahead, and the axle limit was 11,000lbs... The rear axle of The Cafe is rated at 14,500, and I know the last time the rig was weighed, it was 14,280 normally loaded, so we turned left down FM 652 towards Jal... Two miles later, a signpost said "Jal - 63 miles..." Hasty consultation with the map revealed this diversion would take us back north 35 miles before heading east, then south, then southwest to Fort Stockton.... I probably don't need to add that there is absolutely nothing out here in the high desert except sagebrush and utility poles... Now, FM stands for Farm-to-Market, and the road serves as a link from the Farms and Ranches to the nearest point of civilization (which is relative out here). It is barely two pick-ups wide, bumpy, and off camber. Usually it is frequented only by Bubba in his pick-up, and since he knows where his neighbors are and if they are out driving, he pretty much has the road to himself. Using the center line as a tracking marker through the middle of the windshield, and a handy brick on the accelerator pedal (so he can put his feet up on the seat and ride side-saddle), he cruises at 80+, pretty much oblivious to anything except Hog Futures. At night the only variation is he'll keep one eye closed to reduce the number of center lines to one. So, for 35 white-knuckled miles, I awaited Bubba coming over the next of the endless, blind rises... It was Sunday, Bubba stayed home, and we finally reached Jal, the whole diversion added 75 miles and 90 minutes to a long day that already had a one hour time zone change - we made Junction, TX as the sun set behind us...
This gives you an idea of the route... (Carlsbad to Fort Stockton is about 140 miles as Bubba flies..)
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