Utah!

Utah!

After graduating from high school I was a young man without a plan. I was convinced by my father and uncle to try a winter in Phoenix to work at a golf resort. I worked at Marriott's Mountain Shadows for the winter, and thought I should head back to La Crosse for the summer. Over the winter I did take and finish a class at Phoenix Community College, and now had the desire to continue on.

The class was on computers, and in the mid eighties I hadn’t had much exposure to computers. It was called Survey of Information Systems. They ran out of the coursebook. I followed along with a similar book I picked up at B. Dalton.

I had my final day at work, and I knew I’d miss those guys a bunch. From work I gathered my stuff from the apartment and headed to the college to take my final. I left for Las Vegas right after I handed my final in. My mother lived (and still does) in Henderson next to Vegas and I had to stop and see her before I left for the Midwest.

I Left Las Vegas to and headed out on the 1,700 mile journey towards La Crosse. I headed out of Vegas towards Utah. The first Utah city of any size I saw was St George. Somewhere after St George and before Cedar City I missed a sign. The sign should have said services 127 miles –

I have seen the sign on subsequent trips through Utah - I make sure I see it. Well, I’m driving a 1971 Mustang Convertible with a 302 CID V8, that got about 12 MPG. But hey, back then gas was still less than a buck, and global warming hadn't started yet.

So, I notice a second sign telling me I have about 90 miles left to get to the next gas station, and I have about a half tank of fuel and I'm heading up a mountain. It was too late at this point to turn back, so I continue on my adventure running low on gas in nowhere Utah.

Finally I reach the top of the mountain, hoping my mileage will improve and worst case I can coast my way down the mountain. I finally ran out of gas, on the flat spot on the stop of the mountain. I wasn't going anywhere. I sat for a few minutes pondering options.

I started to hitchhike, I used by thumb and the first truck raced by making me think my situation was hopeless. The second truck picked me up, we started out fine after he picked me up. I was just happy he didn't look like some freak that would rape me. We drove 15 MPH as we started down the steep mountain incline, his over-the-road truck used air brakes and they would heat up in a bad way.

The trucker informed me his brakes would actually catch fire when they got hot enough. Looking out his mirror, he said they did have some fire so he pulled over to inspect and cool the brakes. He walked around the truck a few times inspecting and looking for problems. We waited about 20 minutes for everything to cool off before proceeding back down the mountain.

At 15 MPH it took about 2 hours to get 65 miles, stopping a couple more times as the braked would overheat again. When I arrived at the filling station I had to pay a huge deposit for the gas can. I had to wait around and beg people to take me back up the mountain to get my car. At this point I was just hoping my car was still there.

Finally I got some hillbillies in a van to give me a ride up the mountain and back to my car in exchange for 10 bucks in gas money. I went over the exact location of my car, and they said they'd be driving right by, and could drop me off. I had to sit in the back of the van by the kids.

Now I'm getting really freaked out sitting between their daughters in the back of the van. One of the daughters winds up thinking her putting her hand on my leg was a good idea. I thought it would get me killed. Should I ask her to remove te hand, move it myself, or tell the parents? I think I quietly just moved her hand to her side, to avoid my death and body dumping at te side of the road in Utah to be discovered eaten by coyotes a week later.

I really was wondering if I would I ever live through this.

As the ride continued, the crazy hillbilly father announced they had reached their turn off point. Shit, I was a good 10 miles from my car still. Their path led down another road, so I talked them into going the extra 10 miles out of their way for me. They could take the next exit and it would only be slightly out of their way. I handed over the 10 bucks gas money and they let me live!

I did have to trek across the middle part between the freeway. In Utah the distance between free directions was larger than normal. I had to trek about a 1/4 mile from the south freeway lanes to the north lanes. It was a little little mountainous, but I finally made it over the guardrail, and my car was still there safe and sound.

I poured the gas in, and thank God my car started again on the first or second try. I started the drive down the steep incline down a gear or so to maintain a slower speed, and hoping my brakes wouldn't catch fire!

I finally got down the mountain and filled my car to the brim with gas. I got the remainder of my deposit back and had leanred an important lesson. I have never let any of my cars run out of gas since.