I made it.
Home is now officially in Mesa, AZ.
The apartment is really nice. It's also cavernous, especially as I don't have much stuff. But I do have my new bed, my new office desk and chair, and I have HD Cable, 15MB Interweb, my computers and a Flat Screen TV, there's an Irish bar within staggering distance, and plenty of restaurants. Sorted.
Still a little "dazed and confused" but I'm more than happy to be a little out of whack in 95 degrees thank you very much.
A couple of rather important items appear to have either been left behind, or got caught up in the mass clearout. My camera battery charger for one. So I can't get the pics off my camera (don't have a card reader) until I can charge the battery. Sorry. Also my laptop power supply but that's less important as I don't use the laptop much anyway.
On to Ohio bashing.
I will preface this with the fact that my Ohio experience was very limited. I was in one night, and out the next morning. But that brief excursion was both memorable and utterly forgettable.
First, something of an apology to Mass drivers. I honestly thought you were the worst in the lower 48 until I drove through Ohio. Not content with the fact that the roads are utter crap - New Hampshire's took a beating this year, but Ohio's obviously went 15 rounds with Tyson in his heyday - and I have to put a shout out to Mazda for the fact my overtaxed shocks and suspension passed with flying colours - but the piggin Ohian drivers are just utter wankers. Mass drivers are just selfish and inconsiderate. Ohians go out of their way to be pricks.
Driving down the interstate toward Cleveland, it's about 9ish and the road is a two laner (dual carriageway for the non-septics). Ohian Prick Driver 1 (OPD1) is in the LEFT lane doing 65 in a beat-up old something or other. I'm doing 75, so have to anchor, as there's traffic in the right lane. Finally get past the traffic in the right lane. Does he move into the right lane? Hell No. So I give him a little time. Still not budging. Meanwhile, I've got other cars up my arse wanting to get past. So I move into the right lane to undertake.
As I'm undertaking, OPD1 speeds up to keep pace with me. So I slow down a little. So does he. I speed up again. So does he. Fuck.
Now, I don't know if this arse-wipe just wanted to be a prick, race, or look for an excuse to run me off the road, but I sure as hell wasn't taking any chances, I was NOT going to die in fucking Ohio so I slow right down, and let the cars behind me deal with him. In other circumstances, my buggy would have left him eating dust, but not when it was as loaded as it was. Seems he found someone to race as I never encountered him again.
OPD2 was the next morning, heading out. One question that always bothers me is, why can't people pick a speed to drive at, and drive at that speed. Most modern cars in this country these days have cruise control. Is that concept just beyond the comprehension of your average Septic?
Anyway, OPD2 was basically playing leapfrog with me all the way along the horrendously paved Interstate for the best part of an hour. I was cruising at 75. Not once did I alter my speed. He'd sit on my arse for a couple of minutes (I'm in the right lane of a three laner) then pull out and whizz by me. Only for a few miles up the road for me to come up on him and overtake. This goes on and on.
Until in one of the leapfrogs, he's in the middle lane, about two car lengths behind me. Keeping absolute pace - matching my speed mph for mph. Until I come up behind a slower truck in the right lane. He knows I'm going faster than the truck, so he accelerates to come past me, and then sits right where I would pull out - once again matching me mph for mph - so I have no option but to really anchor it, and get out from behind both the truck and him. What an absolute fucking wanker. And people wonder why road rage happens. I wanted to beat his balls flat with a meat tenderiser.
I decided after I did my 2 lane swing to overtake the truck and OPD2, I'd put as much distance between me and him as possible and did 90 for a couple of miles. Never saw him again.
All this taking place on a fucking disaster masquerading as a road surface. I honestly though I might lose an axle.
I'd never been to Indiana. But I wanted out of Ohio so fucking bad I didn't care what Indiana was like, it couldn't possibly be worse. I saw the state line approach and screamed "Thank You Jebus!". As soon as I crossed the state line, the road surface improved 400%. Don't know what Ohians use their taxes for, but it sure as hell ain't the road system.
That was essentially it as far as "incident" is concerned on the trip - aside from the tyre scare in TX.
I added some states to my list, added at least one more to my "never set foot in again unless life-threateningly necessary" list. A lot of driving when you're on your lonesome, but even if someone had wanted to come along, they would have been on the roof - there was simply no room. I think if I were to do the cross-country thing again, I'd do it with someone else, and take longer.
But I'm here now.
Mesa's not going to know what hit it.