Get Me The Hell Out Of Texas

The sun had set by the time I got to the Holiday Inn Express in Abilene, TX (a small jellyfish).  I ate something freeze-dried like couscous in a cup with Austin cheese and crackers, wrote this blog entry about Cape May- please see TX rant towards the end - and slept soundly.  There's something serene about being in the Southwest, and I was not spooked in any way, shape, or form. The hotel was too busy for that, anyway.  Who knew Abilene was so popular?

     Next morning, I woke up to dry sinuses and blogged about the loneliness of being on the road, traveling further from home all the time.  Guess I was spooked by my own ghosts, after such a long drive and drastic scenery change the previous day.  That loneliness was only exacerbated by a hotel packed full of people in Abilene for some sort of reunion.  Looking phenomenal in my PJs, I went downstairs to have some continental breakfast, and was barely able to steal some coffee in the mob scene.

I got the coffee - woot!

The Southwest is for loners, however.  It's cowboy country...quiet and (literally) deserted.  And how do people breathe around here, anyway?  Plenty of open space, but your nose will close up like a clam in distress, in the dry air.  I couldn't breathe through my nostrils until Kansas...and at that point, who wanted to smell the Ramada Inn?  Yuck.

Onward.

There was not much on the way to Roswell, New Mexico...maybe 5 cars on U.S. 380, a few towns that all looked like the one above.  Some didn't have gasoline, but all had Frappuchino.  At one point I really thought hard about the fact that if my rental car stopped, I could be dead out here before anybody found me.  Yikes!  


~A