The Final Leg . . .

. . . or was it?

Time change. I forgot about the time change.  So, I had to wait until 10:00 am to call the bank to get our debit card snafu corrected (not to mention, get our money back). . . . sigh . . . that meant we got on the road later than we wanted.

No biggie. . .  we were still okay on time. . . and it was only eight hours from El Paso to Waco.  We could do that.  Easy Peasy.

Or not.

Of course, eight hours isn't too bad,  but we had to stop to eat . . .and let Morgan stretch her legs and go potty . . .

By midnight, I was tired. . . I needed to stop.  It was dark. The roads were empty.  Cel service was sketchy. . . and I kept imagining that guy in a mask with a machete standing on the side of the road just waiting for one of our cars to break down . . . (okay, okay . . . I might have somewhat of an overactive imagination)

I called Mike and said, "We gotta stop.  I can't drive anymore."

So, we start looking for a hotel.  We found one. And you know that guy with the mask and machete?  If ever he was going to be at a hotel, this was it.  But it was cheap. And they allowed dogs.

It doesn't look so scary in daylight . . .

We took the comforter off the bed and slept in our clothes . . .and as soon as it was light enough, we were brushing our teeth and packing up the car.  Quick stop at a donut shop for coffee and we were on the road.

Within a few short hours, we were in Waco, Texas.

Finally.

(to be continued)