Lee took over driving in Phoenix. By now he was anxious to get home and kept lamenting that he had never been away from his wife this long! I was trying to doze when a change in the sensation of the car woke me up. I knew that our speed had picked up, but not wanting to sound like Chicken Little, I didn't say anything. Instead, I started to time our miles. Let me see, that last mile was done in 35 seconds-35 seconds! "Lee, you're going to get a ticket!" I yelled. "You're going over 100 mph!" He yelled back, "But other cars are passing me!"
We made the last driver change in Yuma and proceeded to climb over the mountain range that protects San Diego from the Sonora desert. It became cold and foggy. Dropping into San Diego, we came upon a border patrol checkpoint where all vehicles were required to stop. As we approached, I yelled, "I can't hide anybody in here!" The officer laughed and waved us through.
We made San Diego on Saturday, just before midnight. Lee lives in San Diego, and I was taking the following week there as vacation. My wife and children had flown out and had already arrived, and I looked forward to a week on the beach and some much-needed rest.
Paul had flown out and our other partner David arrived on Thursday. On Friday we drove to Buena Park for the Knott's Berry Farm Show, which was a huge success, with a steady stream of admiring viewers and potential customers. The positive comments that we heard about the look of the car confirmed that we had addressed the negatives of the first style. People loved the new version . . . and the show promoters loved it too. We were awarded trophies for Best Sports Car by a Manufacturer, Directors Choice, and Longest Drive!! I was sweating this one. What if someone from Maine drove their car all the way?!
As Paul and I planned our return trip, we consulted with the weather channel and were horrified to see the entire country under rain for the whole week! We left early Monday morning under beautiful conditions, despite the dire predictions. I was in heaven as I drove through the California and Arizona mountains as we retraced our steps to Holbrook. My confidence in the car and its performance potential was high, and I played racer on the lightly traveled mountain roads. Corners that had 45-mph limits were easily taken at 85 mph. The car actually felt more glued to the road the faster we went. It simply hunkered down and stuck.
In Arizona, climbing from Phoenix to Payson, I noticed a white Toyota trying to keep pace with us. I would lose the car in the twisty stuff, but it would catch up in the straight section as I slowed to a reasonable speed. In Payson, I noticed that the car turned off as we continued on into what was now a threatening sky. Shortly later we pulled off the road as the skies opened up and dropped about an inch of hail. Sitting there with the tarp pulled over our heads, Paul noticed the skeletal remains of an elk just beside him.
While parked, I heard a car pull up beside us. Peeking from under the tarp, I recognized the white Toyota that had been pacing us. The passenger window went down and I saw an attractive young woman in the driver's seat. She wanted to know if we needed rain parkas, rope, or anything else. I assured her that we were all right. After some further small talk she drove off. I thought that it was pretty cool that a young woman would be hitting on this 49-year-old grandfather! But then I realized that it was the car that had caught her eye. Nobody ever hit on me while I was driving my truck!