Arizona State University - Sun Devil Spark / Sahuaro Yearbook (Tempe, AZ)

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by juggling suitcases, sleeping bags, shoes, books, camera equipment, an ice chest, pillows, maps, enough food to feed the Army of Virginia and a genuine simulated chromium Indian truck horn named Bazoo, we happened to hit on a combination that allowed us to close the trunk and both doors simultaneously. Not ones to look a gift horse in the mouth, we sped away, vowing not to stop until we absolutely had to purchase gas. Naturally, we had to get gas at Broadway and Mill. Following our unimpressive begin- ning, things went considerably better. About an hour out of Phoenix we en- countered our first rain, something that would be with us or not far be- hind us during the entire trip. The days of driving horror that our friends had predicted never materialized. The driving was so peaceful there was even time to take a few notes each day about what was going on. FIRST DAY-Midland In the morning, once we got on the road, Ken and I started the United Football Organization series. Ken got a stupid but neat play-by-the-cards football game for Christmas, and I'm afraid it is like peanuts. We began playing that stupid game incessantly. The mileage chart by the men's room at the service station in Lords- burg, New Mexico, told us that we only had about 1600 miles to go. Whoopee. Now it is raining pretty heavily, and we can't tell if were driving in- to it or out of it. Ah, beautiful El Paso, Hmm. Juarez is more impressive. Lunch south of El Paso. It's a blus- tery day: threatening sky, huge land- scape. Never has Spam tasted so good. It's one hell of a long drive from Phoenix to Midland. We saw horizon in every direction and nothing else: Texas is nothing if it isn't big. Resorted to thinking up names for our mythical football organizations teams: Winnemucca Runnamuchers. Walla Wallabys. Sausalito Wazoos and the like. Bazoo the horn honked at every- body in sight. Dragged our tails into Midland about 8 p.m. Lovely Kangaroo Courts. our motel, has pink lights. Wrote numerous lengthy postcards. SECOND DAY-Jackson Started early. Went through hours of oil fields and refineries. Delightful. About noon, coming off the freeway

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in Dallas, we detected a large ugly building with a flashing Hertz sign, modestly labelled Texas School Book Depository. Saw rather dull Kennedy Museum in Dallas. At least there weren't any ash- trays with his image painted on them. Looked at the spot. Shivered. Dallas is congested, smoggy, rath- er ugly. We ate lunch and played touch foot- ball on a grassy area in the middle of an Interstate cloverleaf offramp. East of Dallas, Texas becomes more and more wooded. By late after- noon, we were in truly beautiful coun- try with heavy woods all around us. Drove into the outskirts of Jackson, dreading our motel. Surprisingly, it turned out to be almost posh. Bazoo is becoming a more selective honker. Wrote numerous lengthy postcards. THIRD DAY-Atlanta Today's drive was an easy one through generally excellent country- side. The government manages to route its interstate highways around most of the really embarrassing slums and depressed areas. The low point of the day was Bir- mingham, Alabama. It is perhaps the most polluted city in America. We ate lunch at 80 miles an hour, a heady experience. Much rain. We entered Atlanta late in the after- noon and sought out the ASU party at the Marriott Motor Lodge in the heart of the city. People were acting very snotty, including those who had no reason to be. After all, we were grubby but we were clean. We sought out our motel in Dora- ville, a far-out suburb of Atlanta. Very nice, except for the Woolco down the road from us. Arizona is not the only afflicted state. We stayed at the Dogwood, a very nice motel. Went to explore Atlanta. Freeways are a nightmare. Fell in love with Atlanta. The weather was rainy, but not crummy. Explored underground Atlanta, met a friendly drunk, watched TV scene be- about 2000 ing filmed along with others. We shook hands with Barry Goldwater as his official car barged through the filming. John, our official photographer, forgot his stupid cam- era. I'm only contemplating forgiving him. We walked around beautiful down- town Atlanta. The streets were amaz- ingly clean. When we wandered into the Regency Hyatt House, headquar- ters for North Carolina, we gaped, stared and stood slack-jawed. The placed is like Disneyland the first time, an unbelieveable building. Everyone staying there tried to act completely blase and so bored, but they kept sneaking looks upward. We careened back to Doraville. Read what the local press had to say about the Sun Devils. Watched what the local TV had to say about the Sun Devils. Wrote numerous, lengthy postcards. FOURTH DAY-Atlanta Dined at a greasy spoon doughnut joint on the Doraville Highway. If you're famished anything looks good. Spent the day gaping at Atlanta again. Encountered delightful cheese shop in Peachtree Center. Bartered extra Peach Bowl tickets for Parisian French bread. It rained or threatened all day. Traffic was insane. Stood on a bridge 22 floors above Peachtree Street. The wind really whipped it around, scary but really neat. In the afternoon, we watched the Peach Bowl parade. Dumb, like most parades. Ate dinner at a sandwich shop near the stadium. Sought out Alka-Seltzer. We gave the remaining spare tick- ets to some kids selling programs, feeling classy and benevolent. The little Shylocks probably hocked the things. We entered the stadium. Bazoo was confiscated. The first half of the game was scary. Despite the damned irri- tating rain which started in the mid- dle of the first half, the Sun Devil fans were undaunted. Undaunted by the rain, that is, not by the Sun Devils. The second quarter ended bleakly with SNOW falling and the Sun Devils behind. lt became the half- time of our discontent. But like all stories like this one, the second half was a joyous, soggy occasion as North Carolina got ground into the mud. Shouts of f'We're Num- ber One and AH YOU! AH YOU! filled the stadium. Bazoo's was the only voice missing. We didn't win the Datsun doorprize. We did retrieve Bazoo, posthaste. Back in Doraville, we unthawed and slept gloriously. Wrote no postcards of any length. FIFTH DAY-Biloxi The rest of the trip was, of course,