Road-tripping with Kydee and Doctor, Part 2

James,

You won’t believe what happened once Kydee, Doctor and I started on our way to California yesterday. Doctor’s car is a small thing. I call it the Half-Horse. It could barely fit all of our luggage; Kydee’s guitar was wedged between the trunk and one of the lowered backseat cushions, crammed against the cooler, smushed up against me, my knees were jammed up into the Doctor’s back no matter how I sat. But space didn’t concern us for very much time, as less than eight miles from Doctor’s abode, the engine started doing scary-I-might-explode things in the nature of smoke and grinding noises. So, like logical young adults, we pulled over, called Doctor’s parent’s and stared at the engine like it’s an alien life form.

“When his dad said he wanted to run the engine hot, I don’t think this is what he meant,” Kydee said.

Nobody stopped or really rubber-necked to look at us on the side of the road. Luckily we were only eight miles and Doctor’s parents were able to come and rescue us. We thought our trip would be canceled, but we were allowed to take the Doctor’s family mini-van, henceforth referred to as The Dolorian. We hit the Indian Reservation highway just half past seven, twenty four hours after we had the idea to leave.

You’re probably not familiar with the drive from Phoenix to California. There isn’t much to be familiar with, it’s mostly desert and highway until Yuma, where there are some casinos and late-night pit stop restaurants along the highway. We grabbed breakfast at 10pm there, before  I got behind the wheel. I drove us through the canyon—I’m almost glad I couldn’t see far off the road. I had the feeling of driving through a dark tunnel the entire time.

At 2 am we arrived at the Doctor’s aunt’s, where we quietly walked inside and went to our assigned sleeping areas.  By nine the next morning we were on the beach.

Kydee doesn’t really know how to swim, just how to not drown. The water was too cold to go in at first, so we played guitar on the beach, grabbed breakfast. By lunch we were pulling each other into the water, being attacked by giant blocks of kelp and teaching Kydee to body surf.

I now sit back at Doctor’s aunts home, thoroughly crispy from a day of play and sleeping in the sun. You and I never went to any of Michigan’s lakes together while I was there. I really think you’d enjoy the beach.

Best,

Sonya.

P.S. After writing this I on an adventure where I walked the gardens of the big Mormon Temple in San Diego, was loaned a blanket on Sunset Cliffs by a ex-pat traveling couple staying in a converted van, found the best aloe vera lotion this side of the country and ate more "southern" food than I ever thought $5 could buy at Newport Kwik Stop, which looks suspiciously like a gas station and has a patio filled with homeless people, but was still some of the best food I've eaten. You would love this. I miss you.