Are we there yet? Part III

After I switch to the driver's side Violette takes a nap and we hit a stretch that must be pretty flat because we've been going dead straight forever. Even though the moon is nearly full helping with visibility on the road I still turn on the high beams to give me as much notice as possible in case there is wildlife in the road. Turns out that truckers can tell that your brights are on literally a mile away because they will flash their lights to get you to dim yours. Seriously, I did the math and based on when I first see lights, effective closing speed, and elapsed time until we pass, they can tell over a mile away. I guess my mind strays off into random observations to combat white line fever because during this graveyard driving shift I also notice that there are thirteen reflector posts between mile markers. Sometimes more if there is a side road that warrants an extra one or two but by and large thirteen of them. I try to divide 5280 by 13 in my head, unsuccessfully. I am also amused by a "school zone" sign but given that it is still summer at whatever A.M. in the morning I don't really slow down. Only a few hundred miles left.

I stop by the first gas station that we've seen for what seems like 100 miles and we get some munchies and take a bio-break. We still have over a half a tank from last fill up and I check my phone to confirm that Klamath Falls (one of the big dots on the map) is definitely within range of the remaining fuel in the tank so I ignore filling up. About a quarter tank later I pass by another remote gas station but Klamath Falls is getting near so I cruise past that one too. Finally we reach the city and I'm ready to fill up but it is a ghost town. This isn't a little town either. There is a downtown area that stretches quite a ways but there is no gas station in sight. Not even a closed one that I can curse at for being closed! I am now regretting foregoing the last two options to fuel up and am mentally exploring options. Could turn back to the one we passed a while ago but that's going backwards. Sun is coming up and stores in town will be opening shortly plus we could sleep while we waited. Could drive on and hope to find something and as long as I use less than half of the remaining tank we could always circle back if I can't find anything.

I choose to press on and before too long I see a station on the outskirts of town. I'm unsure if it is open or not so I drive past it to what looks like a well lit larger gas station but that turns out to be something else so I turn back around and drive back to the first one. I pull up and the Oregon mandated gas station attendant emerges from the office. I sit there wondering how many gas stations actually hire these high school kids to sit there all night to pump gas and how profitable it is to stay open overnight. I tell him we're going to Burning Man and ask him which road to turn on since the map gets a little vague at this waypoint. He says to just keep going down the road a couple miles and to turn onto on a road with some generic sounding name like "Klamath Lake Road" or something like that. I overpay for the gas so I don't have to fish around for smaller bills and to tip this guy who has to work a sucky shift since helped out with directions. I pull out and get back onto the road continuing away from town with an eye on the trip meter. After about a mile I start to keep a lookout for this road to turn on. The second mile comes up and I don't see it yet. Three, four, five miles and I'm wondering if the dude just has real bad distance estimation skills. Ten miles and I'm regretting giving the guy a tip. I do a U-turn and head back toward the gas station to either find the road I missed or to go back to the gas station expecting to see the guy laughing his head off. But about half way back I realize what happened. I drove away from town, passed the gas station, turned back toward town to return to the gas station, asked directions while the car was pointed toward town, then left and drove away from town again. It all makes sense now. The kid's off the hook. So now I sheepishly drive past the gas station (again) trying to make a car full of gear with two bikes strapped to the back look as inconspicuous as possible.

Later on we are both just too tired to drive so I pull over at a weigh station in what I think is California by now. After a short power nap it is time to get back on the road but I need to answer the call of nature first so I head off to find the nearest tree. As I'm taking care of business it occurs to me mid-stream (of consciousness) that this would be a bad time to be disturbing some sleeping wildlife in the shrubbery while wearing flip flops. With the specter of a snake bite being particularly disturbing, I decide that I am marginally safer by stepping backwards a little so there is more clear area around my feet. Chalk up one more advantage for external plumbing. After narrowly surviving my potty break we swap drivers again and before too long we hit Alturas CA, the last big (permanent) town we are going to see for over a week. Another fuel/munchie/potty stop and I take over the reigns again with the sky getting light from the rising sun. We're cruising along and at some point down the road I begin to get a sinking feeling. I know we started out on the correct highway but the sightings of other burner vehicles on the road has dropped off to zero. I want to check Google maps but phone coverage stopped just outside of Alturas. Some people say that when you are lost you will be given a sign and in this case, that sign read "Welcome to Oregon" at that point I am pretty darn sure that we are not going the correct way. Time to turn around and head the other way until eventually finding the subtle turn off that was missed the first time. Oh well, a pleasant 20 mile (each way) detour. But now that we have navigated that tricky turn, we are getting so close and I'm getting so pumped up that I pull over to the side of the road and take a nap. We've been driving pretty much non-stop for about 15 hours by then and it is catching up to me even though I've been resting on non-driving shifts. Violette takes over for the final stretch and I wake up to find us on a curvy remote two lane road snaking through the desert. I ask if we are at Gerlach yet and she said we drove through there a while ago. I do one of those cartoon character double takes except without the comical sound effect. We were supposed to fuel up in Gerlach. We are well within driving range to get to Gerlach afterwards but the organizers warn to top off tanks on the way in because the lines are going to be awful on the way out. The 40 mile detour is now weighing heavier than it was before. While I am still crunching the MPG calculations to figure out what shape we are in we crest a hill and in the distance I can see the promised land. The wide open white playa, established encampments, and a plume of dust rising from the caravan of vehicles. We are finally here.