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(This is the story of the trip home - long but still worth the read) That wrapped it up for the sailing portion of our adventure. Next came the most dangerous part of the trip - the drive home. We asked for directions to Austin and ended up in Houston. Making lemonade, I stopped by my brother's place and visited with my nephew for a bit. About this time, Jon discovered his cut up legs had begun to swell. Jon is not familiar with my particular brand of humor, and my jokes about Flesh Eating Bacteria did nothing to calm him down (go figure.) We raided brother Steve's medicine cabinet and got iodine, aspirin, and some ice. We propped Jon's swollen leg up on the dash, packed it in ice, and set out for Austin. We hit Austin at 1:30am and went to a fleabag hotel (lucky us, there was a motorcycle convention going on so Harleys were roaring up and down the street all night.) Our big mistake was turning on the TV. There was a terrible movie on the Sci-Fi channel, so we spent the next 2 hours heckling and drinking Sailor Jerry. We woke with a start at 7:15am for a 7:30 appointment with Jon's Austin friend, William - a real life Comic Book Guy. We met William, had a great breakfast, and hit the road at about 10:30am (only 90 minutes behind my made up schedule.) I-35 out of Austin was a nightmare. Motorcycles and trailered motorcycles everywhere. Plus construction delays. We just kept falling behind and getting no where slowly. That evening, we stopped in Purcell, OK for fuel and decided we'd get something to eat. I asked the lady standing in line ahead of me "Where's a good place to eat?" and she started telling me about how she had "never tasted ketchup or mustard. Never eaten lasagna or spaghetti or tasted a tomato. Never tasted beer or whiskey." I offered her a snort from the bottle in the back of the car - she refused. It turned out, she lives on Mac-n-Cheese. How in the hell did I find the least qualified restaurant patron in all Oklahoma? We climbed back into the van and headed for Kansas. In Wichita, we could not find an open restaurant - it was Sunday evening, after all. We found a bar - the Bourbon Street - and stopped in. The rib eye was fantastic. Back on the road, I drove first shift. I could barely keep my eyes open for my 2 hour shift. Did you know that in Kansas they have barriers they can drop across the freeway in case of tornados? I didn't. We had 1500 miles to cover from Austin to Salt Lake. We had hoped to be the first PDRs on the great Salt Lake, but time just kept slipping away. Everytime I woke up for my driving shift, we'd be going 60mph instead of 75. Jon's foot had begun to swell again, and he kept poking at it, fixating on it. I missed the turn to Cheyenne, Wyoming, while driving through Denver, putting us further behind. We kept going on I-80 to highway 6 and finally made it to Salt Lake at 1:30pm. We were too tired to unload the boats for a race, so we just kept going. I pass through Salt Lake every 30 years or so, I'll catch it next time. We continued on our way to Boise. As we crossed into Idaho, the whining from the passenger seat began to grate:. "Yes, your foot is swollen. It has been for 1000 miles. No, I don't know the symptoms of Flesh Eating Bacteria, other than they treat it by cutting your leg off. Look at the bright side - you'll get an authentic pegleg! You'll be a hit at all the messabouts". I called my cousin and asked sort of nonchalantly, "So, where is there an urgent care in Boise?" To her credit, she quickly and calmly gave me directions. Cousin Laura impressed me mightily on this trip. By the time we got near Twin Falls, I had had it with the noises coming from Jon. I was either going to get him fixed up or bury him in the desert. As we had no shovel, we went in to Twin Falls and found an urgent care center (*411 is a wonderful cell phone feature.) Physicians Immediate Care was quick and thorough. The only thing the Doc added to my "Elevate, Aspirin, and Ice" treatment plan was prescribe antibiotics (which I can't do because of some silly laws or some such.) I had spotted a Wal-Mart on the way to the urgent care, so we stopped in to get the prescription filled. This Wal-Mart had an odd feeling to it - something was off. When we got to the doors, we discovered this was a new Wal-Mart and had not yet opened. The Wal-Martian guarding the door nearly died that day: While we waited for the antibiotics at the Costco pharmacy, we ate hotdogs to help the urge to kill dissipate. Time was marching on. We hit Boise in the evening, too late to go out to dinner. We eagerly settled on beer and grilled cheese sandwiches from Cousin Laura, instead. She pointed us to the guest rooms and we slept like the dead. And that is pretty much it - my adventures in the 09 Texas 200. Will I do it again? At this time, it is doubtful, but you never know. . . .
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