Phoenix to Dallas, Almost

The drive to Odessa was an uneventful but pleasant 700-something mile trek that weaved between tumbleweeds and cacti and some interesting Next Exit signs (Tombstone, AZ; Truth or Consequences, NM). It went fast. 

I had some witty commentary prepared about the charms of New Mexico (cleaner than regular Mexico) and what items can be purchased at a West Texas gas station (leather chaps, fishing rods, ammunition) but much has happened since I encountered all that. 

East of Odessa, the wind picks up and suddenly I'm driving through a thick dust cloud. The horizon starts to flicker. Lightning. 

Thinking little of it, and not about to wait it out at a gas station that sells ammunition, I continue on.  

Near Midland, the storm picks up considerably. Lightning is coming in big, violent branches now. Left, right, in front and behind. And the thunder booms, scattering cattle. I call Scott in Dallas, a little concerned. We agree that, given the remoteness of the area, a car with rubber tires is a reasonably safe place to be. Only danger is powerlines, trees, tall stuff. 

Funny thing is, I'm now in Midland. Surrounded by oil rigs, which have towers associated with them, which are tall. If I were lightning, I would come to Midland, cause some trouble. 

And it does. The strikes are relentless, each one bigger, brighter, closer than the last. I tense up and hug the wheel every time. This is a minefield. I continue on, faster now. 

But the lightning only gets more frequent, violent, blinding. Past Midland, the rain comes, and comes hard. Scott calls and informs me there's Tornado Watch in Big Springs, and that the storm is coming from the east. Which means I'm in it. 

Take cover? Turn around? I'd love to, but there's nowhere to exit. And I appear to be the only car on the road at this point, which lends a little legitimacy to my concerns. I continue on, scared shitless now. 

Thirty minutes of this feels longer than the eleven hours that preceded it. Texas is raging tonight and I've been warned by several bumper stickers not mess with it. So I exit at Big Springs, and from the overpass, see at least two structure fires in the distance. The scene is seriously apocalyptic. 

I park at a Motel 6 and hustle in. Place is booked. Comfort Inn, same story. Quality Inn, one room available.

JL: (soaked, flustered, relieved) I'll take it.  

Front Desk Guy: It's the Honeymoon Suite.

JL: What's the rate? 

FDG: (looks outside, fires blazing, lighting crashing, rain pouring. Smiles. No response.)

JL: Hundred bucks. 

FDG: (dramatic pause) Very well sir. 

And so it went. Day Three ends at The Honeymoon Suite at the Quality Inn in Big Springs, Texas.

You can't make this stuff up.