We’re on a Mission
Kia on an easy trail, we still had thousands of miles to go to get to Texas AND home.
The last few months have been… interesting, to say the least. A lot has been happening in our lives—just like in everyone else’s.
A very close friend of my wife’s—someone she had known since they were four years old—spent 36 days in the ICU in Texas battling COVID. She passed away a few days ago, and we decided to drive from Washington to Texas to be with her husband and kids.
Arches National Park
The adventure started at 5 a.m. on Saturday.
We took my wife’s Kia Sorento, already fueled up from the night before, and headed south toward Portland before catching I-84 east. The drive was completely uneventful all the way to Salt Lake City, where we stopped for dinner and a hotel. When we travel, we try to eat at places we don’t have back home, and Cracker Barrel used to be a go-to for road trips. Not this time. The food was bad, the service questionable, and the atmosphere anything but relaxing. We ate what we could and continued south into Orem, Utah, where we stopped for the night.
After maybe four hours of sleep, we got up and hit the road again. I wanted to get close to Hwy 6 so we’d have easy access in the morning. We headed into Moab—one of our “happy places”—and visited Arches National Park again. It’s always stunning. After our favorite stops in the park, we grabbed lunch at Zax Pizza and wandered town a bit. At this point we were relaxed, full, and happy.
Zak’s Pizza
Then everything went south.
While fueling up, Jahanel was on Facebook and found out her mom had just suffered a stroke. Oh shit. We pulled aside and made some calls. She had been airlifted from our local hospital to Seattle. Long story short, her dad told us to continue on to Texas—there was nothing we could do, and no visitors were allowed anyway. So we continued toward Albuquerque.
As we drove, updates kept coming in. The hospital attempted surgery to remove the clot but couldn’t get it out. They weren’t sure what to do next and focused on keeping her comfortable in the ICU.
That’s when I made the decision: Mission changed. We’re heading home.
We got that final update while stopped for gas and sleep in Albuquerque. We were exhausted—up since 4 a.m. and now pushing 10 p.m. We turned the car around and started the long haul back.
The drive home was nearly straight through, with one 4-hour nap in Monticello, Utah. Everything went fine until we crossed into Idaho, when I started hearing a flapping noise. We pulled into a rest area to investigate and found the right inner fender liner shredded against the tire. Why? Because when the dealership did the oil change months earlier, the tech never reinstalled the belly pan that helps secure the liner. I know it was on there before—they were the only ones who touched it. Now I get extra work because of their mistake. Annoying, but not a trip-ending problem.
We kept moving until past Baker City, Oregon, where the reader board said: “500 ft visibility ahead.”
That was a lie.
It was dark, raining hard, and we were crawling along at 25 mph with maybe 50–75 feet of visibility. The road stripes were basically nonexistent—apparently Oregon DOT hasn’t repainted them since the Stone Age. My hands were white-knuckled on the wheel. I’ve driven through worse, but this one had me tense. My wrist, which was still healing, felt like I shredded it again.
Once we cleared the pass, visibility improved around Pendleton and Jahanel took over driving. We made it home just after 1 a.m.
The next morning came too fast. Jahanel headed to her dad’s house to help sort things out, and I followed an hour later in my Jeep. I arrived just in time to be voluntold that I’m driving them both to Seattle to the hospital.
The drive was surprisingly smooth. Usually I-5 is a parking lot, but the only slowdown was through Tacoma during another torrential downpour. Traffic into Seattle was nonexistent—I rolled in at 70 mph, which felt painfully slow after cruising 95 mph across half the country.
After dropping them at the hospital, I went to grab something to eat—my first food since Pendleton the day before. I drove through Seattle (which I absolutely hate with a passion), stopped at McDonald’s, parked, reached for the handle sensor to lock the doors… and nothing happened. Weird. I reached for the key fob—also not there.
Then I remembered:
I left my key at home.
I had driven my Jeep to her dad’s house.
We used her key for the trip.
And she had it with her inside the hospital.
Oh, perfect.
So there I was, stranded in McDonald’s parking lot. Never used Uber before, but I downloaded the app, got a ride to the hospital, grabbed the key, and Ubered back. Forty bucks in Uber fares and a $12 McNasty meal… hell of an expensive lunch.
Now the focus is helping get Jahanel’s mom stable and out of the hospital, supporting her dad through the chaos, and dealing with everything that comes next.
