After tagging on another mile+ back to the parking lot due to poor signage, I change out of my long pants and into shorts, as I'm smack dab in the heat of the day getting toasted.  

I dial Phoenix and Kitt informs me of a 2.5 hour wait time.  I leave a voice message, saying I'll be arriving later; after I finish my conference call with the Casa Grande supercharger.










Thus far, I've been on the road for 109 days, visited a total of 86 different chargers, 55 of them superchargers, and had my picture taken with 45.

I can now start my countdown for the last 10 that are needed to meet my "55" goal. 









I arrive in Phoenix at what must be the height of rush hour.  It is a bustling metropolitan city, much busier than I had anticipated.  When I mention to my husband that the traffic is worse than Los Angeles, he responds "the only way that could be true is if you were going in reverse".  

There's just one evening of line dancing here for me, as the traffic has already convinced me it'll be time to move on along in the mornin'.

I spend the evening learning "The Horseshoe" at Roman's Oasis, a dance hall visited by the friendliest group of regulars.  After a few hours, I retire for the night firmly placing the phone back on hook.