Little Suzy, as we have named the baggage trailer, handled herself beautifully, manuevering the desert plains like a champ.
The hot New Mexico sun beat down on the baggage and the Suby like dry blessings from above.
6 hours into the drive...
Wake Up Little Suzy!
There's a storm ahead.
It was about the time we saw the scene above, that Marlene turned to me and asked...
"Did you remember the tarp"?
...Maybe...I said.
Maybe being the universal other word for NO.
All was "good" until the lightning. Thick bolts flashing up from the plains. Beckoning the Suby to...come a little closer.
We both thought of the little orange flag sticking up from the baggage. The one that says, "Hey don't hit this" to cars...thinking it might be a different message altogether to something of the more electric variety.
The Heathen who insisted on riding inside the car (we slid her neatly across the roof) says under her breath, "Remember. I am not a lightning rod".
We hold our breath.
And drive on.
We stop 2 hours north of Las Cruces now too late (and too shaken) to arrive at our set destination on time.
Because Soccorro, New Mexico was the only town that had hotel billboards on I-25 (as opposed to "Stop at Next Exit to Purchase a Horse"), this is where we landed.
Once checked into the Rodeway Inn, the Heathen got out and stretched her fishnets.
I dried off the baggage with hotel washcloths and hitched it under the eaves for the night.
We all sighed.
And turned in.
And dreamt of arks.
3 comments:
Well of COURSE there was a lightning storm.
Mmmm, wet baggage. Smell anything like wet dog?
Mmmmm, wet baggage. Does it smell like wet dog?
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