As you may recall, last year Marilee and I tripped to California, mainly due to a seminar she was attending. We did a whirlwind tour of Southern California from San Diego in the south to Santa Barbara to the north. We were away from the normal grind for a week and a half which made the trip that much more pleasing.
All in all, the driving didn't suck too much, thought the drive down between Las Vegas and San Bernardino was the pits. I'd say more than "pits", but this is a family crowd (for the most part).
So wouldn't you think that we, collectively, would have learned that you just do not drive anywhere, of any length, on the Sunday after Thanksgiving?
"Work" has sent me to school again. Same place. Slightly different subject matter.
ON THE SUNDAY AFTER THANKSGIVING. Yes, I could have flown, but that presents its own hassles. So, yes, I drove.
I even left at a decent hour, 7:30am Mountain Time.
I just checked in to the hotel. After driving for 14½ hours, it is now 10pm. Pacific Time. Long Time.
Bed Time.
Sunday, November 29
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