An hour late or three hours late – well that depends on whose time we’re telling. My dad invited me back to Phoenix last week. I told him though I had received the first part of my Valentine’s Day gift I still had another package in the mail. Once received, I packed my bags and the dogs into the car, and headed east.
I planned to make a few stops on this drive since leaving early enough to maximize sunlight. The first stop was Yuma which is mandatory for cheaper gas and usually a park visit for the dogs, but this time I made them wait for Antelope Hill. It’s not on the map or in the GPS so I went to Wellton, its hometown, and had a look around.
There is a big A on a hill, but it’s in someone’s backyard, so I drove down to a dirt lot and let the dogs out there. I’m glad I stopped to see the red and white rocks, the green shrubbery, and the brown earth contrasted against the blue sky, but I wasn’t able to capture much on camera as it’s been messing up more since I took it to the shop for a dirty sensor.
Next stop – Dateland! I’ve never seen it so busy. It’s definitely a sign that the weather is getting warmer again. I got a small date shake for lunch. On to find Painted Rocks Petroglyph Site at Exit 102. Down the road 11 miles and turn left. There is a gravel parking lot and a dirt path leading to a circular trail around the site with plenty of art to see, birds to hear, and heat from the sun to feel – what a beautiful day.
Back the way I came, but not before stopping to check on the cotton plant I passed on the way in. I managed to glean a bag full from four plants. There was still so much that had been left to dry in the mud – the same mud I got on my shoes because I was mesmerized with the cotton – its history, beauty, and capabilities. I had rolled the window down for the dogs to enjoy the breeze and hadn’t realized the temperature had gotten up to 80 degrees.
I am 30 minutes from my dad’s house and have the cruise set on 80 in a 75 mph zone. I notice a cop behind me, so I get over to let her by and she does 80 too, so I get back in front of her. She doesn’t like that so she pulls me over. She told me ‘she clocked me at 95 while beside her, asked what my dog’s name was (lucky for me it was Sparky barking and not Piggy she was interested in), told me she was in a hurry because she had somewhere to go and that I need to slow down – no more speeding in front of an officer – it’s rude’… I paraphrase.
I’m so grateful that I don’t have a ticket or court to contend with. I arrive at 4:30 pm after leaving my house eight hours earlier…and I am hungry. I bring the dogs up and then go back to the car for the rest. I’m given some strawberries to keep the tummy grumbles at bay until Caroline gets home and we can go to Chennai Chettinaad Palace, an Indian restaurant. We were going to cook at home, but some ingredients weren’t as plenty as previously thought. After dinner we split a falooda – ice cream, rose-water, vermicelli, takmaria seeds, and pistachios – a dessert popular with me and a billion other people in Southeast Asia.