Category: Road Trips

Back in 2007, shortly after I'd celebrated my five-years-cancer-free anniversary, I got my first tattoo. I anguished for months over the design, and finally decided on a simple black tribal design consisting of two geckos head to tail, curving around a roman numeral 5. The design was perfect. The execution was a disaster. The artist I'd chosen in Phoenix decided to "improve" the design—without asking, and as he was in the process of inking me—by adding shadows and highlights. By the time I realized what he was doing it was too late, and my perfect design was ruined. (If it sounds like I'm still bitter after all this time, it's because I am.)

There wasn't much that could be done about the abomination that now resided on my left bicep, but I swore that from that point forward the only person who would ever ink me again was Erik Rubright. How or when this would happen had always been a question since we lived about a thousand miles apart, but if it was meant to be, somehow, somewhere it would happen. And if it didn't and it meant  I would never get another tattoo as long as I lived, so be it. It was better to live with that than risk ending up with another indelible piece of crap as a permanent part of my body.

Ben and I had the pleasure of meeting Erik and his partner, Robert, in person about nine months ago, and it cemented in my mind the fact that no one would put ink to my skin again unless it was Erik.

As my ten year anniversary began to loom large, I started thinking about what I wanted to do to mark its passing. Five years ago—prior to actually getting that rotten ink—I had anticipated adding to the original piece as the years ticked by, but now that I was approaching that ten-year mark, it no longer appealed to me. On the other hand, I couldn't come up with any viable alternatives either—or at least nothing that appealed to me to such a degree that I would want to make it permanent.

Shortly after Erik and Robert were in Denver I ran across a piece of Doctor Who art that really spoke to me. It was an almost cartoonish picture of the Tenth Doctor (David Tenant) standing in front of a semi-stylized Tardis against a pale blue, star-studded background. It was the tenth doctor. It was my tenth anniversary. I'd found my next tattoo! I sent it to Erik and asked if he'd be able to do it. He responded that he could, and that he would file it away for such time that he would be able to personally apply it.

This has been percolating at the back of my mind for some time now, and when Ben and I started discussing possible vacation plans this year, a trip to Erik's studio in Arkansas naturally came up. I ran the idea past John, an internet friend I've known for close to a decade but had never met—asking if he would be willing to join us in Bentonville. He jumped at the idea.

So last Sunday, John hopped on a plane heading south; Ben and I loaded up his new Kia, and headed east…

(to be continued)

Ben has this week off for spring break, and I've finally accumulated enough PTO to allow a couple days away from the madness that has become my workplace (more on that some other time). So what were we going to do with this newfound freedom from responsibility?

Road Trip!

But where?  Four days is not enough time to go back to Phoenix, or even to St. Louis—a destination we've had our eye on since I passed through a few years ago on my way to bury my mom's ashes in Wisconsin.

One place I've wanted to see in person since the release of Close Encounters of the Third Kind was Devil's Tower, Wyoming. With all the years I lived in Phoenix or the Bay Area, it was always too far to justify the time and expense. Even when I went to Yellowstone back in 2007, visiting would've been a stretch since it was on the opposite side of the state.

But lo and behold, it was only about a six hour drive from Denver!

Day One: Where the Buffalo Roam

My initial impressions of the part of Wyoming we passed through? Lots and lots of rolling hills covered in light yellow grass and bovines of one type or another. Ben spent a lot of the drive today napping; he didn't miss much.

One highlight however were the bright red roads in certain areas. Ben asked if they were paved with baby's blood, and I responded, "Well, Dick Cheney is from here…"

Maintenance of this section of highway proudly sponsored by the Church of Satan.

Tomorrow should be much more interesting.

I'm taking a week off later this month. I put in the request at work quite a while ago, without any real idea of how I was going to spend it. I had considered driving up to San Francisco, but despite the fact it's been five years since I set foot in The City and I miss my remaining friends there terribly, the thought of actually going was a complete turn off. I don't want to return as a visitor, having been a resident for so long. It just wouldn't feel right. (Sentiments that are amazingly echoed by a coworker who lived in SF the same time I did.)

Not wanting to stick around town either (I did that last year, and it felt like I had no vacation at all), and with Anderson itchin' to get out on the open road, I was trying to come up with some alternative. Then it hit me: New Mexico! Many years ago, while still living in the City, I took a week off and drove down to Roswell. (I'd never been there, and it was shortly after the 50th anniversary of the supposed crash, so my curiosity had been piqued.) Roswell was fun—and not at all what I was expecting—but it was the rest of the state that blew me away with its beauty and some of the best Mexican food I've had evah. I was especially impressed with White Sands, vowing that I would return one day.

This time, it won't just be a quick jaunt to Roswell. I want to see more of the state than before. So my plan is to first enjoy a bit of Northern Arizona and head to Flagstaff to see the Lowell Observatory (yes, I am a geek), followed by a visit to Sunset Crater and then a stop at Meteor Crater. I'll cross over into New Mexico on I-40 and overnight in Gallup, and the next morning head to the Petroglyph National Monument and Albuquerque in time for a late lunch in Old Town. That afternoon I'll drive to Roswell and visit the UFO Museum. I'll overnight in Roswell and the next morning take one of the bus tours out to the crash site (something I didn't do last time). Or maybe I'll forgo that and just get back on the road and head to White Sands.

As I remember, that portion of the drive—through Carizozo and Alamagordo—is quite scenic with plenty of photographic opportunities presenting themselves along the way. I'll plan on a late lunch at hopefully the same great place I stopped at last time, and then spend a few hours at White Sands. I'll overnight in Deming, and then head to Tucson the following morning.

I'll should arrive in Tucson shortly after lunch, so I'll plan on having dinner and celebrating my birthday with the ex and friends there, and then head home.

Nothing is set in stone, so if anything interesting catches my eye along the way, detours may occur.