Actually, I never reached WOODWARD, OKLAHOMA.
The day is Tuesday, October 12, 2010...
At 4:30 am, I was up, had my usual oatmeal, brown sugar, & raisins with a cuppa coffee made the night before (by Jodi), and reheated for breakfast. (Jodi took a cuppa, but I have NEVER seen her eat a thing, breakfast or other meal - except the second night when she made pasta). I am concerned for Jodi.
I was going to start off in the dark, but I do not see so well at night any more, so decided to wait till pre-dawn light. At 5:30 am, got agitated and thought...to heck with it...if a rattler is warming itself on the pavement, he'll just have to take his chances (I might step on and kill him). So, off I went in pitch black of night to Woodward, Oklahoma. some 35 miles from The Log Cabin.
Half hour later, Jodi trundled by in SPIA. She did not give me her usual "honk" "honk".
At 12 noon, I arrived at the small town of FORT SUPPLY, OKLAHOMA. At this point, the West -to - East US 412 bent to the SouthEast. My interim destination of Biloxi, Mississippi is generally SouthEast. That is where I turn East to Pensacola, Florida and points East and South.
Jodi was sitting in one of the two camping chairs (cup holders and all), completely ignoring my arrival. I asked if the Convenience Store had Chocolate Milk...I don't know...I didn't bother to ask (we had been out of chocolate milk for nearly 2 days).
I checked. Bought two bottles (one for Jodi) and cooked up some Dinty Moore Stew. Want some stew, I asked. You thought Zeus had sent a bolt from above.....IF I WANT ANYTHING...etc.
I ate my stew, drank my bottle of chocolate milk (did not dare ask if she would like a bottle of chocolate milk), and got re-dressed for my afternoon walk the final miles into Woodward, Oklahoma.
As I started to walk onto US 412, I asked Jodi if she had any further thoughts about yesterday's comment that she was reconsidering her part in the entire walk...You don't think I am so stupid as to tell you out here is this God Forsaken Deserted Place, do you...
OMG...I stared at her, said no, your not THAT stupid...and started walking.
5 minutes later, Jodi drove SPIA by me...JODI...hold on. she stops SPIA.
I walk over to her. Say...lets put an end to this, OK? Please get out. I'm going to drive.
Where we going?
Back to Denver.
Can't get there soon enough to suit me.
And, so it was. Jodi climbs into the back. I take the wheel. I make a U-Turn and in silence, SPIA carries us NorthWest backtracking all the way to Denver. At Lamar, it gets dark. I do not see so well at night, so Jodi takes the wheel, and in silence, we drive through the night.
30 miles or so before Denver, travelling on I-70...K E R B L A N G...a rear tire (we have duals) blows out slamming the underside of SPIA directly under my feet. Jodi does a good job controlling to a nice stop. Flashlight in hand, I examine the right-side outside dual. It is shredded, but still on the rim. The inside dual looks fine.
There is an exit just ahead, Jodi says.
OK, take it slow.
She drives nice & slow, pulls into one station...it's closed.
I crawl under the vehicle. I have a good jack & spare. No way the jack is going to lift the rig high enough.
Let's check out the other station back there.
It's closed too.
Let's check anyway....
I feel the anger through the blackness of night.
Begrudgingly, we arrive at the other station...I get out...go inside...is there a possibility to have our blown tire changed...hold on...yes...ok...he says to send you back...white building out in back.
Jodi walks away. I drive to the white building. Guy greets us...oh, sure, take it around back...I'll open the door for you.
I do. He does. I back in.
30 minutes later, he has changed our tire and we are on our way with his parting comment...by the way, we are the ONLY business in all of the Denver area open all night...
And our good fortune to have a blowout 300 feet from his shop...Jodi can sure pick her spot.
It is now Wednesday, October 13, 2o10, at 1:30 in the morning. Jodi drives us the rest of the way back to Char's Ranch.
Jodi removes her luggage (glares at me when I attempt to pick up the BIG bag - I retreat), and her bicycle (on which she never did ride out to meet me), and disappears into the house. Char's Mom, Maria comes out, gives me Char's telephone number and says good night.
I crawl into my bed in SPIA's Mom's Attic and fall immediately to sleep.
Oh, by the way, it is 25 miles from The Log Cabin to Fort Supply...for those keeping count.
Sorry, but no pics for today.