-- Joy Ride (Day 1)

After spending a super weekend with my bro, Rob, we said a fond adieu and I walked dejectedly back to the main house. My woeful mood was immediately uplifted when I noticed my dad readying my Supervan for-- you guessed it-- a road trip! Hot dang. 

No way would Mom and Dad have the nerve to dump me off at that doggy-hotel again. I’m still having nightmares of that community water bowl, swimming with germs and girl-dog cooties. Ick.

Now, back to the excitement. The road is calling my name to begin a new super adventure. Oh, I just wanted to pee myself, I was so giddy.

Hold it in, hold it in...

Since that wouldn’t go over so well with the parents, I calmed myself and purposefully parked my fluffy butt right inside the doorway to keep a watchful eye.

Dad loaded the Supervan with three boxes of food and a case of Aquafina. Hey Dad -- don't forget to pack my tennis ball and my stuffed bunny to snuggle with at night. 

Mom and Dad always bring a ton of food and then usually end up stopping to eat at a restaurant instead. Good intentions gone awry. You’d think they would've learned this by now, but no, they keep packing crap they'll never eat. I ain’t complaining. Heck, I'll eat just about anything...

Okay, well not anything...

When the Supervan was packed up, we couldn’t leave the house until Dad performed the mandatory-road-trip-send-off ritual (i.e., “Sue?! Let’s GO.  I told you I wanted to leave by ten. Why are we always late?” blah blah blah...).

This is par for the course, people. I mean, what kind of a road trip starts out with everyone in a jovial mood?  

Only in the movies, I tell ya... 

Mom wanted to force a group photo. Of course no one ever wants to pose for these photos, but Mom says it's ceremonial. Sometimes I get a cookie if I cooperate. “Everybody smile...1, 2, 3...” I couldn’t even look in the camera. Talk about phony.

My dad just loves these photo ops...

Ah, it’s good to be on the road again.

Two hours into the drive, Dad’s already thinking about food. Do they eat something they had jam-packed into the refrigerator? Heck no. We stop at a BJ’s along the way. And you know what that means...I am relegated to the Supervan to wait whilst they indulge. I could smell the bread all the way out in the parking lot. Hurry up, guys... And don’t even think about coming out empty handed.

Two pieces of bread and a bowl of water later, I took a well-needed nap. Long drives are exhausting on an old guy like me, y’know?

When I woke up, my mom was at the wheel and Dad was snoozing in the back of the Supervan. We arrived in Bishop, California. Feeling refreshed, I looked over and smiled at my mom.

We stopped at this place that sold something called beef jerky.  I didn’t know what it was, but it smelled pretty darned awesome.

Where's da beef?

Soon, we crossed the Nevada border. I was gettin’ itchy to chase some bunnies.

Along the way, the scenery was pretty cool. 

Dad said we’re camping out in a town called Tonopah. 

Okay, so the photo isn’t crystal clear. What do you expect? I’m a dog for cryin’ out loud.

Once we got into town, I had a feeling of foreboding.  This place looked like something from an old movie set...

Abandoned buildings... 

...and a dilapidated gas station that looked like the last cars it had serviced were still parked on its lot.

At least the town had a casino in it, so my Grama Jo would’ve given it a marginal thumbs up.

There were a few RV parks, but the one behind the casino was completely full.  Option two was a gravel parking lot with a few tractor trailers in it.  We decided on option three, which was named, “Joy Land RV Park.”  Sounded like a happy place to stay for the night, but names can be deceiving. Hmm...

We pulled up to the office (er, at least the sign said as much):

The man at the window told my dad to step around to the back of the office.  Huh?  I snapped a quick photo since the place seemed sketchy.  The dude didn’t look like he was packin’ any heat, but I wanted something to show the cops if my dad didn’t come back...

I breathed a sigh of relief when Dad climbed back inside.  We parked in our space for the night -- a real beauty of a space, complete with a picnic table that had seen better days. And the foliage -- breathtaking. 

I just wanted to take a pee and poop and wake up somewhere else. So Mom walked me over to my very own designated doggy area:

Are you kidding me? 

That place was not fit to dump in.  Dad took me for a walk instead.

We ended the evening with a microwaved dinner and a bowl of chow-chow-chow for me. Then it was time for some Fox News on the satellite. Listening to Bill O’Reilly puts me to sleep like a lullaby...