Go Bumba!     OKRovers Expedition '03

Day Three - Albuquerque, NM.
Breakfast downstairs in the hotel, then off to top off fluids and a few last-minute adjustments. After freezing the better part of the last 2 hours, I decided to wire up the supplemental heater that the fella from Canada put in before he sold it to me. I had never bothered since it has heated seats (ha!) and essentially heat coming from everywhere. But that's at 300 ft. elevation of Memphis and no winds. Out west was a different story. So I spliced into the Solenoid and wired that puppy up. In the meantime, everyone else ponyed up and headed for Gallup. We decided to acquire some jackets as neither one of us had packed a thing warm. Hence, our second trip to Wally World.

We took our time, and I'm sure the coilers were a hundred miles ahead. Coming out, we both looked like Kenny from South Park, bundled up with hoods tight. But for the first time since bed, we were happy and warm. Kicked it west down 40 heading for Gallup. So far we'd been over 1,000 miles from Memphis without turning. Gotta love I-40. We passed about 800 casinos. Seems every individual indian has his or her own casino. Strange. I'm Greek. Think I could open up my own casino. The Romans oppressed me. Stole my land, etc. But I digress. At this time, Jason and I scale the continental divide. On top, we refuel, and Jason bundles into his sleeping bag. We head for Gallup. A while later, we arrive in Gallup and make our last Wally World stop. This time, for camping supplies. Got a call from the gang already. They were eating lunch in Cortez, CO. We were just leaving Gallup. Told them to go on. That by the force, we would make it.

Later, we purchased a case of oil at the Pep Boys and we went on our way. Bumba still running like a champ, though the altitude had begun to take effect on the available power. I couldn't imagine I had more than 80 of the 100 or so HPs available. A blower woulda been nice on this journey! The remainder of the trip to Cortez was through Indian land, and Jason and I did our best to upset the natives at every chance, though not deliberately. We drank a few beers and played our music loud. At one point, we stopped to take one of our many pee breaks, when a couple of drunk indians came up. We got them to take our picture in front of a really cool rock formation. In return, we gave them some Dr. Thunder that I had purchased for the sole purpose of dumping out the fluid and stringing it behind my lead singer's car after he got married. Somehow a few had survived. Sounds like a fair trade as I was out of wampum and Jim Beam at the time. With a bit of a buzz on, and a couple of cool shots behind us, Jason and I make way for Cortez. Finally, we pull up as the twilight is setting in. I told him we had to go right to Golden Corral, the giant barfitorium buffet. And it was grand. People looked at us kinda funny. Two blue suited, wind-scarred men riding in a vehicle with no doors and a tire on the hood. But we refueled, drank coffee, and headed for the homestretch.

Moab was just a couple of hours away. I guess it was the altitude or the lack of sun or the wind. But whatever it was, it became blisteringly cold. We had no more Wally Worlds, and nothing else to put on. Just us vs. the elements. But as all good toolmakers do all the way back to Australopithecus we fashioned a system out of the defroster tubes. Jason piled into his sleeping bag and ran a vent into the bag, thus creating the world's first gasoline-powered sleeping bag. I think we can sell it on the web site--what do you think Mark? If I ever face hell, I'm sure it will be a lot like the trip from Cortez into Moab, albeit in reverse. Cold. Like sitting in a mixed drink. And the small output from the shin burner heater just wasn't cutting it. But we survived, and finally pulled up to the campsite in Moab where no one was there. A call revealed that everyone was drinking beer at the Moab brewery. Well never one to turn down a beer, we meet everyone in the parking lot. Three cheers! Bumba had made it to Moab!