Jackson Hole, Bryce Canyon, Zion, and Las Vegas 2012 - Day 1

The  first song I heard this morning, as we prepared for our road trip, just so happened to be "Caravan," by my favorite artist, Van Morrison.  When he sang the lyrics, “…and the caravan is on it’s way – I can hear the merry gypsies play…” my heart skipped in my chest as I realized that, once again, I get to go on an adventure with my own band of gypsies.  And boy, did this trip come at just the right time.

I rarely use the word “desperate” to describe any aspect of my life—until now.  Folks, we are desperate for a vacation.  We are desperate to slow down, to relax, and to untangle ourselves from this huge knot of obligation that has become our life over the past few months.  Do you ever find yourself dreaming about “getting away from it all”?  When you picture your ideal vacation—one that you would take solely to enjoy a reprieve from the busyness—what do you imagine?  I bet you and I share a similar vision.  Does yours include 4 adults, 3 children and 2 dogs, piling into a motor home and driving through 8 states in 11 days?  It doesn’t?  Really?  Oh.  Maybe we’re not alike after all.

Kenny, Leah, and Spunky arrived at our house at 8:30 this morning and we began our journey.  Our first stop will be to visit our family in Jackson Hole, WY.  We’re driving down in Leah and Kenny’s new-to-them Fleetwood Pace Arrow Motor Home.  At 37-feet long, it’s just a hair bigger than Jane Honda, our trusty Odyssey that now sits at home, lonely in our garage.

After a quick how-to-not-destroy-our-RV tutorial, we settled in for the ride.  We stopped in Ellensburg at the Broadway Diner for lunch, where Leah and I played pull tabs.  I won $1.00, and I shrewdly reinvested my winnings by purchasing a pull tab called, “Living the Dream,” quite certain that the return on that single tab would be enough to fund our vacation—there was no return.  I did not emotionally recover from my loss until we reached Vantage.  By then, I had fallen asleep on the couch, and experienced the single greatest nap of my life. 

We entered Idaho at 2:49 PM and filled up the tank with what I believe was all the fuel available in Post Falls.  We entered Montana at 5:28 PM and eventually stopped at the St. Regis Travel Center for dinner.  Once we got back on the road, Kenny decided it was time for Chad to drive for awhile.  This did not go over well with Leah, who, by the very act of being born, received our mom’s gift of being able to worry about every conceivable catastrophe, no matter how preposterous, in the blink of an eye.  In this case, Leah was certain we were going to tip over whenever Chad maneuvered a corner sharper than, oh, say, a straight line.  She positioned herself flat on the floor in the kitchen, spread eagle, because she was trying to keep the weight low so we didn’t topple over.  Jessie saw this, and belly-crawled across the RV to Leah, and the two of them laid together as if they were a couple of soldiers in a foxhole, waiting for the airstrike to end.

We are now closing in on Butte, MT.  The sky is turning pink, the windows are open, and I’m about to put my headphones back on for some good road-tripping music.  The kids are at the kitchen table behind me playing a Science quiz game with Leah.  Listening to her answer science questions is about the funniest thing I’ve ever heard.  Chad and Kenny are up front, driving in silence, eyes on the road.  We may make it to Dillon tonight.  We may not.  All we know for sure is that this band of gypsies will end up in Jackson. 

"Don't be scared to walk alone

Don't be scared to like it

There's no time that you must be home so,

Sleep where darkness falls"
- John Mayer

-The Niemeyers