We left at 9:30 in the morning anticipating minimal traffic and exciting flybys only to meet a line of traffic that went on for miles and miles. After about two hours of crawling traffic, we felt a surge of hope when we spotted this:
It's amazing what a little signage can do for morale. Of course, that quickly faded when we snapped out of our airplane daydreams and once again laid eyes on the ceaseless line of cars before us. To make matters worse, we didn't bring snacks and we didn't fill up the car. As the hours ticked away, our stomachs became quite aware of the lack of food of our surroundings, as did the car's fuel gauge.
Somewhere in the midst of our hunger and fuel fumes, we glanced out the windows and spotted a few airshow planes performing. Knowing that the show was going strong, we snapped what photos we could and forged ahead, promising our bellies mass quantities of food and our eyes much desired flight scenes.
By the time we made it to the parking area, the flight portion of the Airshow was nearly through, the E on the fuel gauge was glowing a bright orange, and the clock forced us to make a decision. If we chose to stay, we would have to park on the lake bed, walk the long unknown distance to the actual static displays, and hope there was food waiting. We would have a maximum of an hour to take in what goodness we could, walk back, and fight through another four hours of traffic on no gasoline. The cheer of "But we came all this way!" was quickly silenced with "We'll have to push the car to the nearest gas station. . . off the base." Without even stopping (well, we had to stop due to the incessant stop-and-go traffic), we followed the parking signs to the exit signs and after about 45 minutes more of crawling, made it to a Mojave gas station and refueled. We then made plans for food at the nearest "nice" restaurant and spent the rest of the evening forgetting the day existed.
Somewhere in the midst of our hunger and fuel fumes, we glanced out the windows and spotted a few airshow planes performing. Knowing that the show was going strong, we snapped what photos we could and forged ahead, promising our bellies mass quantities of food and our eyes much desired flight scenes.
By the time we made it to the parking area, the flight portion of the Airshow was nearly through, the E on the fuel gauge was glowing a bright orange, and the clock forced us to make a decision. If we chose to stay, we would have to park on the lake bed, walk the long unknown distance to the actual static displays, and hope there was food waiting. We would have a maximum of an hour to take in what goodness we could, walk back, and fight through another four hours of traffic on no gasoline. The cheer of "But we came all this way!" was quickly silenced with "We'll have to push the car to the nearest gas station. . . off the base." Without even stopping (well, we had to stop due to the incessant stop-and-go traffic), we followed the parking signs to the exit signs and after about 45 minutes more of crawling, made it to a Mojave gas station and refueled. We then made plans for food at the nearest "nice" restaurant and spent the rest of the evening forgetting the day existed.
