road trip

August 19, 2019

Our first road trip was two weeks after Jason and I met. We rented a car in Florence and drove through Tuscany and Umbria for a few days. We barely knew each other, and with no radio in the car, we threw ourselves in at the deep end. We didn’t talk all that much, and it wasn’t lost on either of us how natural it felt to be quiet together. In the years that followed, we drove through Western Canada, California, Baja and Mexico. And when I say we drove, I mean Jason drove and I co-piloted. I’m hopeless with a map, so I actually didn’t even do that. I’d listen to music, (Frank Sinatra took us through the Rockies) tidy my thoughts and cuticles, and take in the scenery. To this day, we talk very little in the car, only the car is far from quiet. With three children in the back, snacking, eye-spying, bickering, whining, kicking, crying, and drowning out Jason’s yacht rock with their iPads, our car is not what it used to be. Road trips en famille are equal parts adventure and ordeal. There are the tedious, monotonous, pull-your-hair-out stretches. “Are we there yet?” “I need to pee!” “I feel car sick.” But the pay offs — spontaneous swims, exquisite scenery, unpredictability, adventure, and bonkers, loud, beautiful, messy hours all together — make it worth it. I admire families who travel across the country –– our destinations are never more than a day away –– and who camp along the way. That’s a whole other level of challenge. Maybe one day we’ll be up for it. Maybe one day, when more than one in the pack has a driver’s license!


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