I know I left you hanging. The truth is I got sick and things have been a bit hazy in the Mooseknuckler Headquarters, also known as my brain. Plus, I’ve been writing a million different things for different places that I’m not even sure if they got written in English or not. The down side to all of this is that I don’t recall everything that I was planning on writing in the first place. So you are going to have to deal with a summary.

Here it goes….

After a long shower and a shave, we finally got some real food. Cimarron knew a great place that happened to be located all the way across town. After driving for another half hour, we began our now habitual practice of sitting. It took the bus boy three trips to get the table up to Cimarron’s cleanliness standards. The typical chips and salsa took at least ten minutes and we didn’t have utencils or anything to drink for another ten. The waiter wasn’t seen often but when he did come around he would stay and make small talk, which by the way is one thing waiters should never do.

The food was atrocious. It’s hard to screw up Mexican food, but this place did it. I ordered spinach enchiladas, nothing special, but they used some awful sauce that was probably the most disgusting flavor I have ever tasted. And to top it all off, it was expensive for Mexican food.

KB got a little perturbed towards the end of this whole ordeal, and to be honest, she had every right. We had been in the restaurant forever and all any of us really wanted to do was sleep. And sleep we did. I don’t think it took me more than 2 minutes to completely pass out once we returned to the hotel.
The alarm went off, at what felt like an hellaciously early hour, 5 a.m. It took me about ten minutes to get up the muster to roll out of bed, but once I did I was wide awake. We promptly checked out and bid Tucson farewell. We were on the road by 5:30 a.m.

And then we drove.

We made it to SG around 3:30, if my memory serves me. The other two Knucklers in the car can correct me if I am wrong. We dropped stuff off, grabbed some grub and said goodbye to KB.

The Golden Knuckle and myself tried to continue. We gassed up the car and hit the freeway but as soon as we reached 60 mph the entire car started to violently shake. We pulled over to see if we had a flat, negative. We tried again, same results. We pulled off at the Washington exit and checked the lug nuts to see if any were loose, again negative. So we drove back to the Brinkerhoff resident to procure Papa Brinkerhoff’s infinite automobile wisdom. He took one look at my car and said, “There’s your problem.”

Apparently when we had washed the car we hadn’t gotten all the mud out of the inside of the rims and what was left was throwing all four wheels out of balance. We quickly removed all of the wheels, cleaned off the mud and were back on the road at just before 6.

Due to the two sails on top of the car and a head wind that accompanies me wherever I go, we didn’t get the best gas mileage and were forced to stop in Beaver. Kevin, after being accosted by myself for not being able to stay awake, at all, bought a “crack” drink. It worked wonders on the little guy. Not only did he stay awake, he was incapable of shutting up which is exactly what I needed.

Well, we ran into some problems in SLC. First, we had a navigator detour. Somehow we ended up on 89 instead of I 15 and had a hell of a problem correcting our slight error, but once we did we had a second detour that put us back off the highway for what seemed like an eternity.

The Mooseknuckler-mobile rolled into its parking space at 11:30 p.m. That’s 18 hours of travel time, and why they now call me the Truck Driver.

And that’s my story.

Out.

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