A Love Triangle Gone Bad

*** continued from previous post ***

Our exchange went something like this:

Me:  "Okay, well here we are, in the middle of a vast, flat nowhere.  Flatter than a flapjack in winter.  Flatter than a sod-buster's foot.  I'll just clear everything out, and plug our destination into the ol' GPS again and we'll get out of this spot of trouble lickety-split.  Shucks, this here ain't nuthin' but a little by-and-by no-how."

Mom:  "Why are you talking like a pioneer crossing the prarie?"

Me:  "Pardon Ma’am?"

Mom:  "When was the last time you had a drink of water?"

Me:  "Ummm . . . reckon I had me a taste of nature's nectar last time we stopped and shod the mule."

Alice:  "Recalculating. . . ."

Mom:  "How many fingers am I holding up."

Alice:  "Recalculating. . . "

Me:  "Six."

Alice:  "Drive 4.6 miles and take a right on Western Australia X-15."

Mom:  "Did she just say 'Western Australia'?"

Me:  "I think that Sweet Alice is a bit bamboozled with the abbreviation for Washington, (WA), and is recitin' our fair state as 'Western Australia."

Alice:  "Turn right on Western Australia X-15, watch out for Roos."

Mom:  "You named the GPS's voice 'Sweet Alice'?"

Me:  "Seemed appropriate at the time."

Alice:  "We don't have all day Mate!  Get yer arse goin'."

To which I obediently did as she commanded.  Alice is a harsh task-master, or task-mistress, but up to this point a fair one.  So, I follow her directions.  Surprise!  The road she has taken us to is gravel.  And 15 miles of it.  I am not taking the Vision across 15 miles of gravel in the middle of nowhere.  No how, no way.  That will simply never, ever, never-ever-never happen.  So instead of taking the suggested road I ignore Alice and continue straight.  I know this road will EVENTUALLY connect with another paved road that will take us where we want to go, I just don't know how far.  With a plan in place we thundered into the hinterlands of wheat and dust and heat and lives long, long lost.

 Alice:  "Recalculating. . ."

Mom:  "Well, that was less than helpful."

Me:  "What in tarnation has gotten into that filly?"

Mom:  "If you don't stop talking like that, I'll. . .I'll . . ."

Me:  "You'll what there little Missy?"

Mom:  "I'll poke you in the eye."

Now that takes me back a bit.  She may be serious.

Alice:  Recalculating. . ."

Me:  "Fine.  But at the next stop as soon as you go to sleep I'm burning your mother's furniture for a campfire."

Alice:  "Turn around and go back to Western Australia X-15.  Proceed 17.2 miles to Us 86, (Which she pronounced as 'us', not YOU-ESS), then take a right at the first junction."

Me:  "Um no."  I keep the bike going straight down the road.

Alice:  "Turn around."

Me:  "No."

Alice:  "Turn around ya wanker."

Me: "NO!"

Alice:  "Recalculating. . ."

Mom:  "We could just turn it off. . ."

Me:  "No.  We did not spend our hard-earned money for a dash ornament.  Had I wanted that I would have bought one of them there little Jesus figures with the bobbly head.  No, I have faith that Sweet Alice will chart us a course straight and true."

Alice:  "Drive 87 miles back to Ritzville and try again."

Me: "What the f ---?"

Alice:  "Recalculating. . ."

Mom:  "Please don't tell me we're going back to Ritzville."

Me:  "No.  No flippin' way."

Alice:  "Yer fucked mate.  Yer off the map."

Me:  "Jumpin' Jehoshaphat!  You're a dad-burned GPS for criminy sakes!  You can't be lost!"

Alice:  "Oh, I'm not lost, you are.  If you don't want to follow my directions it's not my problem."

Mom:  "Are you trying to strangle the GPS?"

Me:  "Shut up and help me circle the wagons."

After some time we stumbled on a road that was paved and headed in a general northerly direction towards the golden land of Canada.  I took it without hesitation.  After a few miles we realized we were on the wrong side, (the SOUTH side), of I-90.

Mom:  "I don't remember crossing I-90.  How the heck did we get here?"

Me:  "I have no idea, but there's the exit to Ritzville."

Alice:  "Ha Ha.  Recalculating. . ."

Eventually we found our way.  I don't know how.  It doesn't matter.  If you have an explanation of how we headed north yet wound up on the south side of I-90 with no memory of crossing a 6-lane freeway I'm all ears.  It may have been aliens, or the past hour could have been a joint hallucination in the parking lot of "EATS".  I probably shouldn't have had the 'home grown' mushroom soup.  The point is we persevered and pushed on, blindly cheerful as ever.  Why this was nothing more than a minor setback.  A blip in our schedule.  Little things like this were bound to crop up every once in a while.  Best just to take a deep breath and push on.

Then we hit the wind.

*** the journey continues tomorrow ***