Descending into LA, I could see the mountains enclosing the city and wondered; "what did I just get myself into". The rugged mountains looked like prison walls, not allowing escape in any direction. Not only that, they just went on and on. One behind the other, then another. There was no end. I honestly thought I had made a huge mistake.
Since I got in about forty five minutes early, Jordan was not there yet, so I waited for him to arrive. I went outside to check out the weather, Pretty nice I must say. Probably in the sixties and sunny. I do believe I heard more horn honks in the hour I was standing in the airport than my entire thirteen years in South Carolina. Yes, It's a whole different place.
Jordan showed up in a nice Mercedes Coupe, and we headed back to West Hollywood. We had a great conversation, and he's a great guy. The weather is perfect in LA, but many other millions of people believe so too. Even on a Sunday afternoon, they all seem to be on the roads. Jordan says you get used to it, but I don't think I could deal with this every day.
Jordan didn't hesitate to let me know he thought I was crazy for heading cross country. Of course I had no reason to believe he was wrong. When we pulled into his parking garage in West Hollywood, I spied the shoe in the very end parking space, where it's tucked away unmolested. We took a quick look at the car, then headed upstairs to start the paperwork. We had all the right forms, so we grabbed the keys and I took her for a drive.
It was as nice as Wyatt had said. The smooth and torquey three liter propelled the car with little effort in just about any gear. The exhaust was not stock, but also not obnoxious. Just enough to attract a little bit of attention, but not enough to annoy. Cosmetically, the car was nearly perfect. It had a layer of dust from sitting, but Jordan decided against washing it since I was about to put a three day layer of road grime and bugs on it. Who knows, maybe the dust will become a protective cocoon, keeping the road grime from sticking to the paint.
After finalizing the transaction, I drove the car out of the garage, said farewell to Jordan, and started my insane journey back to South Carolina. I managed to find "The Ten". I never did understand why Freeways in California start with "The", like "The Four-Oh-Five" or "The Five". I've never heard that anywhere else.
Once on the highway, the shoe drove "like buttah" as we might say back in New York". Traffic was light, since I was heading away from the city. Those daunting mountains were looming in the distance, taunting me as I drove towards them.
My right knee started to hurt a little, so I hit the cruise control to give my leg a break. Ummm, nothing. Wait...what? I tried over and over with no luck. Oh boy, this was going to be a long trip. My mind started racing. I had visions of my right foot totally numb, and having knee surgery scheduled for the day I get back. No, don't panic, I can find a dealer in Phoenix that can fix it. In any case, this just won't do. There isn't much you need on a cross country trip, but cruise control is one of them.
I pulled off in San Bernardino to get gas. After filling up and getting on the highway, I tried the cruise control again. This time it worked! I heard a choir of angels singing as they took the throttle and regulated it to my desired speed. What a relief! All is now right with the world again.
I decided to call it a night, and found a Holiday Inn Express in Loma Linda. Even though it's only six o'clock, my body says it's nine, and it's been a long day.
