When I was 20 years old I joined the Army. After three months of misery in Missouri, and then 9 months of additional training in Georgia, BW and I moved together to Arizona.
We had a used Pacer that we bought in GA and drove from their to NH after my training was complete. We had a week or so to visit and then we had to pack up the car and head West. The backseat folded down in that car and we were able to fit a lot of things in there plus we added a roof-top carrier for even more.
The net effect is that we had a vehicle that averaged about 9 miles per gallon and nearly broke our bank account during that 3000 mile trip. This was before cell phones and ATMs so we had to stop at local Sears stores to cash checks along the way when we ran out of cash.
Before we even got started we noticed something leaking from under the car and had to have the power steering line replaced while still in BW's parent's driveway.
We managed to make the trip by traveling along I-40 until we go to Albuquerque, New Mexico. We were astounded by the mountains after a long trip across some of the flattest states in this country. When we made the trip back the big mountains were gone since we'd just lived in an area that had peaks that dwarfed the ones there. We then took I-25 down to I-10 which led us to the road for Fort Huachuca.
We finally reached Fort Huachuca, well after dark, and BW was in tears by the time we got there because it was so desolate. We drove into the fort by way of Huachuca City, a place that boasted a couple of Circle K gas stations and several salvage yards.
Fortunately, after I checked in they directed us out the main gate and into Sierra Vista. It wasn't a big city but it least it had hotels, restaurants, stores, and it looked like civilization. We picked a hotel across the street from the local Sears because by the time we got to Fort Huachuca the car had gasped its final breath.
We found out the next day that the battery had shifted and a corner had been worn away by a belt rendering an entire cell empty. Making it to Fort Huachuca in enough time for me to in-process was a miracle.
Anyway...the next morning I woke up and opened the door to our hotel room. I was looking east to the mountains. The beginning lyrics to John Denver's Rocky Mountain High sum up exactly what I felt:
He was born in the summer of his twenty seventh year
coming home to a place he'd never been before.
I felt like I had come home and that this was the place I was meant to be. I loved our three years in that part of the country but after I got out of the Army we headed back home because that is where both of our families lived.
The soaring mountains, breath-taking sunrises and sunsets, the stark beauty of the desert...all things I love and miss.
Posted by bbarton at January 12, 2006 12:12 PM