Travel was the unusual event of the day, so you get some details here. I grabbed breakfast at the Wendover Pilot [truck stop] and drove to Elko, by which time it was clear this is an unseasonable cold snap. Nobody sells mittens, only gloves. And remind me to switch my prescription to a national chain so I can get refills outside of Florida, security leak or not. A true stealth traveler would stock up. This photo is in Winnemucca, because I always wanted to say I’d been there.
Finally, I can say I was in Winnemucca. Look up Butch Cassidy, that’s where he made his bucks. It is a gambling town around half-way between Salt Lake City and Reno. A BLT and coffee at a mom & pop set me back $11. From there, it was Highway 95 north into Oregon. That road is arrow-straight for 20 – 30 miles at a stretch, but bounces over hills and valleys.
There were trucks all over this two-lane making life difficult for everyone. It got really cold on the mountain passes. I tanked up at McDermitt, and old cavalry fort and the last gas for 100 miles said the sign. Well, they lied, it was 151 miles and I ran out. I had to use my jerrycan to get into the next town.
On the extreme southeast of the road I say a sign that said “New Antelope”. Isn’t that the outfit with Baba Rum-Raisin and the fifty Rolls Royces? If so, it is in the middle of nowhere and they can have it. The desert is less rugged but mostly fenced. It was uninhabited for the last 30 miles into Burns, my destination. Great scenery, but desolate. I was again the only vehicle for long periods.
I missed great scenery in the dark but I can tell I’m entering a farming area. I buttoned up for the night behind a shell to the rumble of the 18-wheelers. The pod passed the test down to 28F. I was toasty warm in my $10 sleeping bag, no heat source required. If it came to that, a few strategically placed had warmers would have worked fine.
Like outdoor camping, there is a problem getting up on frosty morning. Somebody has to “light the fire”. Since I sleep in shorts (yes, I can undress inside the pod), I often get up before dawn, like 5:15AM this morning. I still could not find any mitts anywhere, including Walmart. You need the solid material mitts, for anything knitted allows cold between the stitches.
The Honda draws plenty of attention in these small towns. What surprises me is the number of hitchhikers. In this weather? The towns are sixty miles apart. By comparison, I am highly-equipped and comfortable.
A while back I speculated if I could get across the USA on $300. Of course I meant gas only. Nope, it got me just past Salt Lake City pulling the pod. That’s Ft. Lauderdale to Salt Lake City. We’re probably looking at closer to $480 to hit the Pacific. Food so far has been just $110 and other expenses close to $800.
One other item was could I get across the country without somebody surreptitiously tracking my trail. Nope. It could be done, but only by advance planning and careful behavior. I didn’t exert either of those. Instead, I merely watched to see how the system tracked me.
The glitches so far are a surprise toll booth in Lawton, OK which I am certain took my picture to prevent tolljumpers, but I’m certain it is kept on file and would be used for other purposes in an instant. Same with a gas station security cam near Hope, AR. I also made several calls on my cell phone, although that isn’t in my name, it was still traced.
I found several intersection cams and there was an incident at CVS. The clerk asked if I had a CVS card and I said no. But she saw it on my key ring and gave me that suspicious look.
On the other hand, I’ll make it across without using an ATM or renting a motel. You budding detective novelists can use my material. Human nature isn’t that flexible. Somebody looking for evidence of travel would probably conclude after finding no ATMS or motel usage that I had not moved, and give up the search. I sort of suggest, if you cannot travel anonymously, develop the habit of spoofing the system. Before I left, I arranged for two events to occur that “prove” I was in Florida.
ADDENDUM
No, I don’t stay much in truck stops. I prefer Walmart for overnights. Sometimes I will stop at a trucker’s roadside lounge for meals or laundry, but otherwise these joints amuse me since it is a lifestyle I have nothing in common with. My last major truck stop was in West Wendover, on the Utah-Nevada border. It had casinos, bars, lap dances. But no Internet access and no library.
They also bitch about some federal agency that matches gas purchases to mileage. That, I eavesdropped on, since that would not work without some way of tracking the trucks and restricting where they buy gas.
