Wednesday, May 24 (Day 4)

Sweat was the first thought that came to mind as I returned to the realm of consciousness. Beads of salty wetness leaked from every pore of my body; a body that had sprawled itself out over night trying to escape the smothering heat that filled the ‘Just Squeezed Juice’ trailer. I sat up to escape the misery and the top of my head collided with the ceiling. Thunk. Nice.

Hot death was my second thought that came to mind as I slinked down off the mattress and dropped to the floor. I burst out of the trailer door and into the searing Texas sun and walked in the direction of the welcome center. Welcome to Hot Death, Texas.

There are no showers at roadside rest stops so I did the best I could to mask my sweat baked body by slathering on cocoa butter lotion, lavender spray and baby powder deodorant. Gross, I know, but it tuned out to be quite the sweat-proof smorgasbord. Will I ever be a girl again?

Somehow I always seem to forget just how flat and boring Texas is to drive through until I am actually doing it. I know that is wrong of me to say being a native of the God forsaken state. But after spending over three years in states boasting the splendor of varying topographies I have become a little spoiled

But at present there were no hills in the horizon that we were traveling...just miles and miles of flat pastures and treeless grassy plains dried out by the fury of the blazing sun. Nonetheless, the drive wasn't too bad for me. For starters I wasn't the one driving and I had never driven these particular roads before. Rather than taking I-30 into the Dallas-Fort Worth metro area we had remained on some farm road that was guiding us through a bunch of little po'dunk country towns on our way to Texarkana in order to pick up a kayak Josh had purchased on eBay.

By two in the afternoon we were all starving but Josh refused to stop at any place he didn’t recognize as a major restaurant chain. This was a problem because DQ and Sonic didn’t seem to fit into that category. Josh was intent on finding a Cracker Barrel. I began to feel like Josh was my prison guard while I sweated away in solitary confinement.

“There’s got to be one coming up,” he said. “We’re in Texas, they’re everywhere in the South.”

I don’t like to be pessimistic but Cracker Barrel seemed a little mainstream for the parts we were driving through. This was small-town country and these folk didn’t dine at no restaurant not owned by someone’s mom or pop...that is unless you were picking up a burger and fry at the previously mentioned DQ or Sonic. Knowing this sad reality I was close to tears as our caravan rumbled through Wichita Falls stubbornly passing by the best eating options we were likely to find for hours.

“How about IHOP?” Josh finally asked.

Sure, boss. Anything, boss. Any bread today, boss? I wasn’t picky at this point. My rioting stomach had gotten the better of me and squashed any hints at subtlety.

“Where do you see one?” I asked.

“I saw a sign,” Josh said.

But as we reached the outskirts of yet another small (but as big as it was going to get) town he finally gave in to reason and made a U-turn for some ‘Texas BBQ’ at a roadhouse called Catfish Louis’. We were told that the buffet was the best choice. I knew upon first glance that we weren’t in for much of a treat but I spied a couple trays of vegetables and a soft serve yogurt machine and decided it was good enough. As it turned out the soft serve was by far the best part of the meal.

Tomo had three bowls and was debating a cone. “I probably shouldn’t. I’ll have a gut ache for sure,” Tomo debated, the wheels of his mind visibly working at the attempt at reason. “But cones are so good!”

“Dude, you’re like a cartoon character straight out of the funnies,” Josh laughed. “I can almost see the two thought clouds. One on your left saying hmm really shouldn’t have another. And then cones are so good.”

Tomo didn’t go for another cone; Josh paid our tab and we headed back out into the dusty, hot Texas parking lot.

“Aw man, I forgot to tip her,” Josh said, referring to the lady who walked us to our seat and took drink orders. “Should I have tipped her?”

Josh handed me a couple dollars and I ran them back into the restaurant. I walked past a table of cowboys and their Wrangler-clad wives shoveling pudding into their offspring’s grubby mouths. I caught the eye of one cowboy from beneath the brim of his hat. I must have seemed like such an oddity to him with my tanned surfer skin and sun-streaked hair but at the same time I shared as much wonder about his life as he was likely imagining mine.

“That was not Texas BBQ!” I said back inside the Dodge.

We arrived in Texarkana sometime before five. Josh had directions from the kayak-seller on how to get to his house but something was amiss.

“I don’t know, man...we can’t find your house,” Josh said into his phone. “Why don’t we just meet you at the Sonic?”

Good old, Sonic...the landmark of the South.

We rolled into the drive-in’s parking lot, found a space in the back and capitalized on the opportunity to get our bikes out of the trailer. I rode around in circles while the guys pulled one wheelie after another.

“How’s your wheelie going, Shell?” Tomo wanted to know.

I hadn’t attempted one since New Mexico so I was sure there was no advance in my skill but I tried anyways. My ‘wheelie’ consisted of me lifting my front tire an inch (if that) up in the air. Definitely no daredevil female Evel Knievel.

“You’ve got to lean back into it more,” Tomo instructed, demonstrating the move.

Lean back more, yeah right...lean back into the pavement.

The eBay guy showed up hauling a neon green kayak out the back of his car for Josh’s inspection. I didn’t know anything about kayaks but this one looked completely different from the red one Josh already had. Josh’s kayak had a longer, pointier front and end. This one looked like one big, short green bubble. But it must have been good because Josh was giddy with excitement. He paid the guy four-hundred dollars and the eBay man drove off.

“Come here and sit in it,” Josh said.

I did as he said slipping my legs into the front of the thing mildly amazed that they fit in the front that looked so short.

“It might be a little small for me,” Josh said, walking circles around me in the green bubble. “But it’ll work. It was just too good of a deal to pass up.”

“Oh yeah?” I asked, climbing out of the bubble. “Is four-hundred dollars cheap for a kayak?”

“Hell yeah it is. It hasn’t even been used. That guy just didn’t know anything about kayaks. He thought it was too little but it was actually just the right size for him,” Josh said with a smile. “I got lucky.”

When’s the last time I got lucky? Hmmm. What? Oh, where was I?

The guys had to do a little rearranging in the back of the trailer to make room for the new toy, but somehow it fit and we were on the road again.

Our next stop was New Orleans where Josh had to pick up some cups for the juice stand, but our stomachs were grumbling by the time we reached Lafayette so we decided to stop short of our ultimate destination. We lucked out upon taking a random highway exit and spotted the familiar neon sign of Outback Steakhouse jutting out above the treetops along the deserted Louisiana road.

I practically inhaled my food nearly finishing before the boys. My body was still adjusting to the two-meal-a-day schedule the guys apparently were on.

We piled back in the Dodge and I passed out in a food coma. When I woke up we were parking for the night in the far reaches of a Home Depot parking lot behind a Denny’s. I pulled myself up, groggily hopped out of the truck and walked in a daze around to the trailer to grab my backpack.

“I’m going to walk to Chevron,” I said.

“I’ll go with you, I need to brush my teeth,” Tomo said, jogging to catch up.

We turned around the side of the gas station to find a whole gang of cops gathered around leaning against their cars chatting about whatever it is cops talk about. I didn’t pay much attention to it and walked past them to the bathroom. But Tomo couldn’t suppress his disapproval. “Shouldn’t they be out doing their job and fighting crime or something?”

In the bathroom I did my usual routine of ‘showering’ myself in deodorant, lotion and body spray; brushed my teeth, washed my face and changed into a pair of pink boxers and a tank top. I felt cute, refreshed and somewhat human again.