Everyone thought I was crazy when I told them I was going to take a cross-country road trip. A woman, alone, on the road! Yeah, right!
But I was compelled as I’d been away from family for too long. As the youngest of three, throughout the years, my brothers kind of took care of family business. However, about a year ago, one of my beautiful nieces passed away and my brother’s Parkinson’s turned real serious.
I wanted to help. Living 3,000 miles away did not make this easy.
Planning was needed as I decided to turn this trip into an extended stay and I had a j.o.b., kids (grown, but still “kids”), and a loveable rescue pooch that was almost always by my side. Considering my options, I chose my independence which meant having ‘wheels’ while there. And thus a road-trip was elected.
So I scheduled a complete maintenance overhaul at my trusted mechanics and started the process of lightening my life for a trek cross country. In the mix of this preparation, my loyal companion of 7 years, my beloved rescue, Bandit, took ill. Very ill. It was sudden and within two days I was forced to make the most difficult, yet humane, decision.
Tires are crucial on a road trip, right?
New breaks, tires, timing belt the list went on and, when done, my trusted Mitsubishi Spyder felt like it had been restored to like-new. Except for one small annoyance. A pesky light kept popping on my dashboard warning me something was up with a tire.
My mechanic recommended changing all the tire sensors and I thought I had. But the tire shop (different from my main mechanic) lied. So when the sensor light kept popping on, causing me lots of angst, I had to delay my trip until corrected.
Frustrated, I brought my car to a different tire shop, replaced ALL the sensors (again), and discovered one sensor was old and had never been switched out. I was lied to! Problem solved, I packed my car and hit the road.
Only, it was late in the day by now. After meandering through the neighborhoods saying my goodbyes to friends and family, I really didn’t get underway until late evening.
Normally, this may not have mattered. But I was on deadline. I had a mere 4 1/2 days to reach my destination in time to “attend” my beautiful great-nieces 16th birthday party. All spare time had been absorbed by the tire issue that was now behind me, or so I thought!
Height Freight and other road hazards
AAA directions out of San Diego took me across I-8 to I-10. This route wraps along the southern rim of Arizona which I had vowed, years ago, I’d never travel again. You see, this passage takes you through a winding, steep, two-lane mountain, with no side-barriers and a drop that turns my stomach just thinking about it.
So I opted to take the route from the north hooking onto I-40, the road that takes you through mid-America and across this fine land.
A couple of hours into the trip, as I neared the junction that would take me east, I must say the adrenaline of “road trip” rushed through my veins. So much so I felt, at that very moment, I could drive straight through.
And then it happened.
That (ugh) orange light, flashed on my dashboard again! Having triumphed through 4 days of dealing with tire sensors, this flashing light was pretty much the last thing I’d ever want to see again. Especially now!
Followed promptly by the sound of a thud! I pulled over and there it was. Flat. Damn!
It’s 1:00 a.m. In the middle of nowhere. My Spyder and I slowly limp our way to safety.
Dark, Isolated & Alone
Dark, isolated, alone! Yet feeling, perhaps, G-d is on my side. The exit sign reads: “Marine Corps Logistics Base.”
Slowly I rolled down the darkest side road I’d ever been on in my life stopping in front of an eerily abandoned building. Having been raised on the east coast, these factors, combined, are rarely a good thing.
Yet in front of me, a little down the road, bright lights blared. Although pleased about that, it honestly looked like a deserted entrance to a military outpost. I was concerned.
Armed with no other choice, I got out of my car and walked closer to what looked like a scene from the ‘Twilight Zone! (Worn-torn, tattered, my imagination wondered if the inspection booth door would squeak open with a skeleton hanging from a hook.)
So when a live person … dressed in Marine regalia … popped out I, metaphorically, jumped for joy. Of course, he didn’t. “What the hell is this broad doing at my entrance in the middle of the night” is likely what buzzed through his head.
“Respect” is the operative word
If you’re ever in a similar situation, a word to the wise would be ‘respect.‘
Respect this Marine’s authority. Respect his concerns. Respect his M16 rife, locked and loaded, ready to pounce. Respect.
As soon as he appeared, I stopped walking. I poised my hands to my sides so he could see there was nothing in them. I spoke first saying “thank G-d there’s a live person.” I gave him space to note a damsel in distress and no threat to anyone.
He asked if that was my car. I told him I had a flat. He had already called for backup. Within a moment or two, two vehicles, driven by equally armed military, drove over to check me out.
I can’t speak for them, but I was over-the-moon with delight.
I was no longer alone, on a deserted street. Instead, I had the support of armed American military. I felt safe. They checked my car, verified my story, ran a background check on my plate. And while I awaited for AAA service to arrive, I had not a care in the world.
God bless America. God bless our military. Thank you, AAA.
With ‘donut’ installed, I back-tracked 15 miles to an all-night tire shop in Barstow. Sure he tried to gouge me. And my choices were…? With no leverage, I negotiated a deal and Frankie, the tire guy from Barstow, hooked me up.
I have to say, this episode made me doubt my decision to drive. Determined, though, I pushed forward and made it through. Taking a few moments, though, to call in my spirit guides (which we all have), I cleared my energy (I can teach you how to do that), for a continued safe drive “home”.
In Spirit ~~
Renée
Twitter: @reneestern
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Renée Stern is an intuitive strategist who shares leadership strategies and spiritual “tools” designed to take your life and business to the next level. Download my free “Prosperity is Freedom” MP3 visualization designed to gain insight into your path of financial transformation. To learn more about Renée, check her out or contact her by clicking here.
