According to Google Maps, the drive from Foxy J's parents' place in Vegas to our apartment in the AV should take 4:41, which seems at least an hour more than it ought to take, but that shows how much I know.
It took us just over eight hours to make the trip today.
In large part due to our fancy new window, shown here as it appeared Sunday (that's me in the background with my glazier's tools):
This window was not the work of a journeyman. It fell apart as soon as we hit freeway speeds.
The trip was composed of stop after stop to repair the window.
Problem one: One hundred degree weather (109 at the thermometer) does not lend itself to duct tape sticking as well as it could. The adhesive would melt and with each flap of the supposedly taut window, it would slide slide slide till it was free as a plastic birdie.
Problem two: Freeway speeds. No matter how slow I went, I could not go slow enough to keep the wind from beating at the window making me a) go deaf and b) watch the window slip off the car.
Each time we stopped and repaired (requiring me to drag my bum leg over and around and through to get out of the car), Lady Steed and I perfected our window's design, but until the sun went down, we had no chance for success. And even after dark, we still had the pounding flapping roaring noise in our ears.
Sheesh. We bought new music for the drive back--the first real purchase of music just because in months if not years--and could hear none of it.
Alas. We stopped at the last must-stop-at-at-least-once restaurant along the 15 and it sucked.
1: We're alive and only I seem to be hurt--and that not bad.
2: We got to spend another day with Master Fob, Foxy J, S-Boogie, Earth Sign Mama and Papa Biker.
3: Angel food cake for Foxy's birthday. With strawberries. Strawberries!
4: The car still drives.
5: Sweet new glazier skills.
14: Important life lesson to be learned (also pending).