2016 Route 66 Trip
July 26, 2016
My neighbor, up early, startled me as I sat in my drivers door studying my phone and googling last minute info. I climbed from the cab and he sent me off with a big hug, saying he loved me and would miss me. Something
had changed for me. For the first time I would really miss my friends
on this trip. Facebook
would keep us connected, and I knew they would all cheer me along on my route like a
marathon runner making her laps. I pulled away from the house at 6:15.
I squeezed through the inland empire commuter traffic and
the road opened up as my motorhome climbed up the Cajon pass.
The vista spread before me, and I inhaled with a pleasant
surprise. I missed the traveling during
the last four months at home. The joy of being on the road again swelled inside
my chest like a lover’s first kiss after a long absence. I was glad to be alone because as I
considered the enormity of the past events in my life, which led up to this
precise moment, my eyes teared up. I was
going home to the flatlands of the Midwest, cornfields and soybeans.. No words could express the deep level of feelings I felt for all the events I had
been through this past year. And soon I would be facing the events of my entire life. As the motorhome's engine hummed like a quiet creek cutting through the land before me, It carried me along with my new intense emotions while I anticipated the road ahead.
My motorhome labored up each steep grade, and rushed down
into every valley like the roller coaster in Happy Hollow at the Ilinois State Fair.As the distance increased behind me, the miles ahead decreased bringing me closer to
whatever the future held.
After an hour
on the road, I exited at Barstow, California, where I choose a TA Truck Stop, Travel
Centers of America, to get a cup of coffee.
My goal this trip, to meet and interview truckers. As I climbed out of my rig, a bulky, black man with a round face, kind smile, and a soft voice for such a big man admired the “Short Story” lettering on my Smart Car.
I slid into the booth
as the trucker introduced me to Tina’s nephew.
The boy looked me straight in the eye and shook my hand. “Nice to meet
you ma’am," the boy said. Even though I found his southern twang endearing the boy succeeded in pulling off a masculine presence of someone much older.
In Newberry Spring, I gassed up across from the Bagdad Café. The rising heat and my waning energy made me choose to ignore the lure of the historic café. After checking my phone, I pushed on.
My goal this trip, to meet and interview truckers. As I climbed out of my rig, a bulky, black man with a round face, kind smile, and a soft voice for such a big man admired the “Short Story” lettering on my Smart Car.
“Are you a trucker?’ I asked and
told him that the hero in my next book was going to be a trucker.
“Yes I am,” he said.
We shook hands and he invited me to join his girlfriend,
Tina, his team driver, and her nephew, a sixteen-year-old boy for breakfast.
His
respectful, grown up attitude, a rare aspect for a teenager these days, delighted me. “How do you like riding on the truck?” I asked.
The boy’s face lit up
and I saw the road’s romantic pull in his eyes.” I love it.”
Their broker called, twice while they ate, assigning them two
loads, one in Los Angeles, which they would deliver to Rapid City, South Dakota.
There they would pick up another and transport to another destination. Tina shared stories of trucking life while Rayman
finished off his breakfast.
In Newberry Spring, I gassed up across from the Bagdad Café. The rising heat and my waning energy made me choose to ignore the lure of the historic café. After checking my phone, I pushed on.
The afternoon temperatures climbed higher and higher as did my stress level. What happens when you break
down out here in nowhere land? You deal with it, I told myself. Drained from
the miles, the events of the day and the anticipation of what lies ahead, I passed
Kingman. Unable to sing out with enthusiasm
in accompaniment to my favorite country singers, I fought sleep.
Seventeen miles past Kingman I pulled off I-40, topped off
my gas tank and checked
into Blake Ranch RV Resort. Parked and with the air-conditioning blasting, I stretched out on the couch and waited for the interior to cool down.
into Blake Ranch RV Resort. Parked and with the air-conditioning blasting, I stretched out on the couch and waited for the interior to cool down.
The TV scanned for stations on the cable provided by the
park while I heated up a serving of my baby back ribs and green beans, and straightened
up. I ate dinner, watched Judge Judy, and unwound. After my first meal on the road, I carried
Sportster outside. Like the King of his castle that he believed he was, he lounged under a tree while I cleaned road dirt off the car and rig.
Chores finished, I returned Sportster to the motorhome and walked
over to the campsite across from me and introduced myself to a
man and a younger woman sitting at their picnic table. The temperature had dropped
to a bearable range.
The man smiled. “When I registered they told me there was
another Howard in the park. Is that you? My name is Howard, too. This is my daughter, Debbie.”
With last names in common, the conversation took off. Of course, I
went into my book spiel as the man cooked hamburger patties on a small grill. I
wished I had not left mine at home. When the burgers were cooked, we rose and I
said goodbye. The man reached out his
hand and said, “My name is Jack.”
“What?” A light hum
from the interstate in the distance as we shook.
“My name is Jack Howard.”
“That was my husband’s name,” I said.
The woman Debbie said, “That’s weird.”
“Yes it is,” I said. “Yes it is.”
COAST TO COAST WITH A CAT AND A GHOST
“The book is a narrative, both of physical travel and of emotional and spiritual evolvement,” says Howard. “It leads the reader through the hills and valleys and provides insights to fear and bravery.”
Howard aims to weave an emotionally-charged narrative with humorous anecdotes and a unique perspective on life, engaging and inspiring the reader. She looks to take the readers on a ride into her new stage of life, through the joys of travel, over unexpected bumps in the road with glimpses of the world through her eyes and even the eyes of her cat to a final destination that is hope.
MASADA'S MISSION
MASADA'S MARINE
In
this mystery-romance, widow Judy Howard drives her RV along Route 66,
encountering the ghosts of her teenage past when she was drugged, raped, and
forced to undergo an illegal abortion.
Tragedy strikes when Judy is drugged
and date raped on a Saturday night in the parking lot of the town’s roller
rink. But her high school crush Brad comes to her rescue, helping her deal with
the crime perpetrated against her, even going as far as to arrange an abortion
for her, though the practice is illegal. Judy must live in fear as the drug
prevented her from knowing the identity of her attacker. Racked by guilt over
the abortion and panic over the sexual assault, she accepts a college offer in
California and flees to West Coast.
After four decades of marriage, her
husband dies and a high school reunion invitation from Brad threatens to
shatter her illusory peace. Nonetheless, she summons up the courage to go,
loading up her motor home and heading out on Route 66 with her cat named
Sportster.
Judy Howard
is a writer whose debut novel is fictional, even if she happens to share the
same name as her protagonist. She has traveled alone in her motor home with her
cat, Sportster, throughout the country.
Sportster the cat had always
envied the huge cats who lived the big life in the jungle until opportunity
sends the motorhome in which he travels veering into a roadside ditch. When
strangers whisk away not only his Winnebago, but also his chauffer, Judy, he is
alarmed. However, once the dust settles, he purrs a happy tune as he discovers
he is free! I He is in the wild! And he is in the Olympic Forest!
ACTIVATE LION MODE is just what
Sportster does as he spins this yarn in his own words. Living wild and free
brings on encounters he never have imagined. The life he dreamed becomes an
adventure full of bears, pit bulls, drugs and more. Sportster weaves this story
of his incredible journey as only a coddled cat of leisure can do.
When her husband of twenty-five years, Jack, passes away, Howard is faced with an overwhelming sense of loss. She takes to the road in her Winnebago on a journey of self-discovery accompanied by her cat, Sportster, and Jack Incarnate, a life-size stuffed doll she creates with an eerie resemblance to her late husband. During their travels she and Sportster experience the beauty of the land as she resolves her troubled memories through conversations with the doll. She comes to terms with her deep love for her husband despite the abuse that was part of their relationship and discovers how she became a stronger woman for it.
“The book is a narrative, both of physical travel and of emotional and spiritual evolvement,” says Howard. “It leads the reader through the hills and valleys and provides insights to fear and bravery.”
Howard aims to weave an emotionally-charged narrative with humorous anecdotes and a unique perspective on life, engaging and inspiring the reader. She looks to take the readers on a ride into her new stage of life, through the joys of travel, over unexpected bumps in the road with glimpses of the world through her eyes and even the eyes of her cat to a final destination that is hope.
MASADA'S MISSION
Masada, a bumbling golden
retriever puppy, struggles through eighteen months of training to become a
lifeline for a veteran with PTSD.
As part of her training,
the puppy is assigned to prison life, where she matures and adapts to the cold
concrete life of confinement and experiences hair-raising risks, tension, and
the ache of loneliness.
She forms unusual bonds,
first with Roy, her inmate trainer, and in the end, the total prison population
as well.
When she walks point for
her veteran down the graduation aisle, an awe of respect silences the crowd.
Will the readers also be
led down the wedding aisle? Brad and
Judy, founders of the K9s for Warriors training facility, who have reunited after a forty-year
separation, face monumental responsibilities that test their relationship as
they try to build the dog-training program for veterans.
A touching yet educational
story, about the world of service dogs who save veteran lives.
When the subject
of our military arose, I proudly stated my patriotic views and gave a blanket,
but silent ‘thank you’ to all who lost their lives to keep me safe. My heart
twisted in sadness every Veterans Day and Memorial Day. I consider myself an
average American.
When I decided to write MASADA’S
MARINE, I imagined it as a nice story about a puppy named Masada who grows up
to become a service dog and changes the lives of two men.
One man, who began his life as a
patriotic boy, graduates high school, starts his own family and becomes a
gung-ho Marine. The young man has everything to live for until he comes home
from his first tour in Iraq with PTSD and loses it all, even his will to live.
Another man, who began life as the
son of a drug addicted mother, learns how to fight a war of survival on the
streets and exists inside a life of crime. The pressures of the young man’s
illicit career takes its toll, and he ends up in prison, defeated. He, too, has
nothing to live for.
As I penned my story, the
characters took on lives of their own and demanded that this not be a nice
story about a man and his dog. During hours of research and interviews the
characters became people, electric with emotions, and sometimes terrifying,
like the firefight that promises only one victor. As I learned more about the
invisible disease, PTSD, the story’s heartbeat pulsed out of my control, like
the disease itself.
Masada and her littermates, the
real heroes in this drama, matured into valuable service dogs. They changed not
only the characters’ lives, but my life as well. I am no longer the silent
American. I hope Masada will change your life, too.
Every hour a veteran
takes his own life.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Author, Judy
Howard’s mailing address is Sun City, California, but you will rarely find her
there. Instead, you might find the top ranking Amazon author strapped in at the
race track ready to check out the Mario Andretti Racing Experience or cruising down Route
66.
Of one thing,
you can be sure she is living up to a quote by Henry Thoreau, Howard questions,
“How vain is it to sit down and write, when you have not stood up to live?”
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