Day 8
& with the Mother of all Hangovers for company, I had to make my way towards Michigan to meet my brother, his girlfriend & my parents, who were flying over for Thanksgiving.
I had my breakfast/lunch/first bite of the day from the half cooked pizza I found in the oven from the previous evenings social activities. I had flashbacks from the night before of getting the behemoth oven to work, failing & pottering off to bed. It wasn’t good food, but it was the closest I could get to the comfort food I needed. The journey was 300 miles following I-294, I-94 all the way to Michigan. It was not the most eventful drive, & to be honest, that’s exactly what I needed after the night before.
Now, remember the Federal citiation I had been issued in Nevada? Well, the cop who issued it did me a massive favour- he didn’t have to. In fact, he could have been a total pain in the arse & ordered me to drive back to California to sort out my paperwork; that’s how serious my predicament could have been. Sometimes, & it isn’t always obvious at the time, but just sometimes, don’t you feel the universe is looking out for you in some weird sort of way? I don’t mean to get all hippy on you, but it will probably all make sense later.
It may surprise you, but, I’m no stranger to having speeding points on my licence. (I can detect a gasp of disbelief....) So, you may not be surprised to know, I am pretty sensitive to watching out for the police in my vicinity as I drive (Road Angel on the dash...). After the citation was issued, I became aware that there was something odd going on every time I spotted a police car: driving towards a police car, my throat would tighten slightly, thinking, “Oh no, here we go again...”, but the car would turn away before getting sight of my non-existent rear plate; or I’d see two cop cars, door to door, chatting, not looking in my direction as I sailed past; or a lone police car, on the side of the highway whose vision would be blocked as lorry passed between me & him. I don’t know, it’s almost as if Gloria & I had a cloaking device. A bit like my Obi-Wan Kenobe looking after me: “This isn’t the Porsche you are looking for...”
Day 8, a bit of a blur.
5 hours 30 mins, 330 miles.
Day 9
But, then we hit Michigan & downtown Detroit. My brother has lived there a long time, & he knows the kind of thing I like to do for fun, so I asked him to take me down town, to the areas of urban decay that I’d read so much about:
It's dodgy down this end of town. There are areas of Detroit that are so bad, even the police stay away. I wanted to go & check stuff out. Now, because my brother is now an American citizen, he is also a fully paid up member of the gun carrying community- a necessary companion, I'm afraid,for the next part of our journey. Some of these ares are bad, really bad,& it's the kids growing up in these bad areas that suffer,so my brother goes out with a crew on a regular basis to cut the grass in the parks, so the kids can have somewhere to play. But, they go prepared for the hassle ,& so did we. Loaded & locked, we headed on into the ghetto areas.
During his grass cutting endevours,they stumbled upon a deserted velodrome - which was just aching to be driven round:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=earalX1e0Ow
Urban decay,Detroit style.................
In front of the once grand main station...........
