Posts Tagged ‘cross country’

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What we aren’t going to get while we are there

April 11, 2012

As I put together the list of things to pack, I’m trying to save room for a few acquisitions. “Been there, done that, got the tshirt” is the phrase so I think there will indeed be a few tshirts. Plus, C’s mom is an expert shopper so I suspect there will be some malling in Connecticut and Boston. We don’t need to pack everything we need, it will do us good to stop at local places to pick up yogurt or a hat.**

However, I want to make a list of things that we do not plan to acquire. I make this list in hopes that C will read it and realized the futility of convincing me otherwise. Even though we are renting a small SUV, we should not fill it.

  • Quarter-ton fossil from Montana
  • A pie safe like his mother’s (which I have always drooled over)
  • Any additional pets animals
  • A new house in any part of the country
  • A painting or other artwork worth more than a new car
  • A toboggan
  • More than a single instrument, well, definitely not more than three
  • Any more computer gear (unless something breaks)

I’m sure I’m leaving a few things out. I wonder what…

** There was this time that C and I met his parents for hiking and dinner somewhere outside Solvang. I found out after the hike that dinner was formal (as in dresses and jackets). We had an hour to purchase formalwear (and shoes!). Good times, really, good times. He will never, ever live this down.

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Somewhere between disbelief and awe

April 10, 2012

When I tell people, that we are going to drive across the country, the responses are distinctly bimodal. Some people gleefully enthuse about awesome road trips, gushing about a trip of a lifetime. The ones who have done it want to discuss routes and stops, things that we just have to see and tourist attractions that just weren’t worth it (ahem, Niagra Falls, I’m looking at you). The ones who haven’t done a trip like this seem to be ready to pack a bag and come along with us, wistfully saying “if only”.

The other end of the spectrum expresses confusion and doubt, “So why don’t you fly?” (Sadly, if I was the hearer instead of the teller, I’m afraid I’d fall into this end of the response curve.) If I opt to explain about people on the does-not-fly list (that would be different than the do-not-fly list), then they ask about drugging him. They can’t conceive of wanting to drive.

But I’m starting to get it. I’m starting to get excited about seeing all these places. I’ve read about chile roasting in New Mexico, I don’t think we’ll be there at the right time, but I bet we can still get some green chile cheeseburgers (I believe those are the required eating in NM).

And between Flagstaff and Albuquerque is the petrified forest. We are going to stop there, I agreed to a long first drive so we’d have time to dawdle. I bet it will be amazing. I’ll finally get to see real weather in Oklahoma and Arkansas, though I don’t want to be near a tornado. (Hey, earthquakes are fine but I watch Stormchasers, I don’t want to be that close to an F-anything.)

And in Memphis, I totally want to go to a blues club. And maybe see Graceland.

I want to know- how do the Appalachians compare to the Rockies, really? Not from a topology perspective but from actual feet on the ground view.

Washington DC, our nation’s capital. I’ve never been but I hear the Smithsonian is spectacular. Art, Air and Space and Natural History, we can do all those. And the mall and the monuments. I want to see if I can find my book in the Library of Congress. Oh, and maybe we can go to the spy museum. I bet their gift store is the best. Three days in DC is going to be enough to be thoroughly exhausting but not surely not enough to get bored. Then we’ll rest up with C’s parents in Connecticut before the whirlwind starts again.

Is the east coast really that different from the west coast? I hear antique means something very different out there. And coming from the ivory tower of Silicon Valley, I think I want to know what the rest of the country looks like. The economy here seems better but what about everywhere else? Will the socio-economic-political attitudes be glaringly different?

I bet Boston feels like home though. I want to see MIT (how would my life have been different if I’d gone there?) and the Boston Library (wonder if they have my book?). And then we’ll go with the family to Plymouth which is going to make me appreciate Thanksgiving more, I’m sure. And Cape Code, a place I’ve only really seen in lovely pictures.

We’ll see friends in Ohio and Michigan. And maybe Massachusetts and New Jersey if we can organize it. I may finally get to see Rob’s giant apple tree (it caused problems dropping branches on his roof, which is two or three stories high).

I want to see one of the amazing baseball parks, either Wrigley Field or Fenway Park. The Sox are playing a home game the weekend we’ll be there but we are supposed to be doing family things… hmmm… it may be difficult to sneak away. Shhhh….

In Wisconsin, there is a manufacturer of large fiberglass sculptures (think of the Bob’s Big Boy sign). They have a sculpture graveyard the public can walk around. Can you imagine the surreal photos?

And we cannot pass up a spin around a small portion of the mall of America once we get to Minnesota. I wonder if the northern, mountain states feel big and clean.

We are stopping an extra day in Yellowstone. I don’t have any plan for that but I already know a day won’t be enough.

One of the guide books said that being spontaneous is great but if you utterly lack a plan, what you’ll find is what the middle of nowhere looks like. Because there is a lot of nowhere. I want to see a lot of somewheres.

Possibly the bimodal nature of the responses is due to my own ambivalence. I’m certainly hesitant about leaving my comfy home and life. But as I get more excited about seeing these places and think more about all the neat things I’ll see, maybe I’ll hear more joy from other people.

It is a trip of a lifetime.

So now, a quiz: Is it a trip of a lifetime because
a) Oh, the amazing things you’ll see…
b) Traffic and weather statistics indicate this will shorten life expectancy.
c) Been there done that, on to other adventures. No need to do ever it again.
d) Only an idiot would do it twice.

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OMG We’re going to drive?

April 9, 2012

Seriously? I admit that sitting at my desk, staring at a computer, for six hours straight is a normal part of my day (well, when I’m working hard at something). However, six hours in the car makes me feel like a wild animal with a foot caught in a trap.

I don’t like to drive.

I hate to commute, I left a job without a plan B when I couldn’t handle the 15 mile commute (which could take between 12 to 57 minutes depending on traffic, weather, phase of the moon, etc.). And family trips, driving between San Jose, San Luis Obispo, and the LA area, are always a horrible grind, even via the lovely coastal route. We have friends in sunny San Diego who keep asking us to visit, stay in their new home but we never manage because I don’t like to drive that far.

Why would I agree to spend eight to twelve hours in a car for five days there and back? That doesn’t even count the back-and-forthing along the east cost. Sadly, I’ve heard they are called flyover states for a reason.

I’ve lived my life in California, born in SoCal, went to college just east of LA, and moved to Silicon Valley for work. Heck, we even honeymooned in Camel-by-the-sea, only 90 minutes from home. It was great. I did spend some time in Mexico as a child and a summer in Pittsburgh during college, both of which were mostly forgettable. And, it is hard to not visit Arizona (Havasu!), Oregon (hey, look, trees!), and Nevada (Vegas, baby!) when you’ve spent this long in California. I’ve visited New York, Utah, Florida, Washington, Alabama and Colorado for work. And I popped over to New Mexico for a girls weekend once.

But other than the closest states, those all involved planes (and one train). And I don’t really remember much of being there, it was just about getting things done and going home.

How in blazes did I agree to drive across the country, across a whole continent? (Curiously, it sounds bigger when I put it that way, somehow it sounds smaller when I say “drive across the nation” though. Terminology is perspective.)

Well, you see, it goes back to the honeymoon, or really, shortly before that when I got married to C. He’s a wonderful man and we are still in love with each other. Nicely, we also still like one another and find time spent together to be interesting and fun.

Well, except when he’s driving around a parking lot, making me car sick when there were three open spots we’ve already passed. I suppose neither one of us finds that time particularly rewarding though it happens all too often.

But he doesn’t like to fly. He says that this short video describes some of the fears he has about flying.

Since I’m a homebody, that isn’t much of a problem. However, his parents and sister moved to the east coast about a decade ago. They don’t fly either but they’ve driven out to see us several times, about once a year now that I think about it. In May, his sister is giving a graduation performance as part of her Masters program.

People have asked about drugging him to get him through the flight. That isn’t the problem. The problem is the anxiety leading up to the flight there (or if I surprise him, the time before we fly back). He’d be as whiney as I get when he’s looking for a parking space. But it would be all the time (until the flying part was over and done with) and not just until the car stops.

So flying is out, at least for now. Though I promised him a weekend at Disneyland if he gets over it. But that is a different adventure.

For now, we need to get to Boston by May 4th. The one train trip didn’t work out that well: I liked playing cribbage with the old guy in the lower level cantina (there is always one) but C didn’t care for the experience, due to land sharks, I believe. And I admit I got sick of the cramped space.

A cruise around the world would maybe work, though we’ve never taken a cruise. I’ll put that on my maybe-next-time list. Because we are going to drive across the country, err… continent, err… nation. So, I’m a little nervous about this trip. In life in general, I tend to spend most of my time and energy focused on the destination.

One of the goals of this blog is to stop focusing on the drive as a means to an end and instead start thinking about the drive as being part of the journey.

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We’re going on a trip

April 7, 2012

My husband and I are going to take a cross country trip. We are driving from San Jose to Washington DC to Connecticut to Boston. On the way there, we are going The Southern Route: Arizona, New Mexico, some other states I forgot, Tennessee and Virginia. I expect we’ll spend a fair amount of time listening to Route 66 for at least the first part of the trip. On the way back, we’ll go to north… way north: Illinois, Wisconsin, Minnesota, North Dakota, Wyoming, Montana (Yellowstone!), Nevada and home.

The goal is to see the graduation performance of my sister-in-law as she finishes up a Jazz flute master’s degree. And to see the country but I keep forgetting that part. I’m pretty focused on goals and forget to see that the journey is the fun part. This is a road trip of epic proportions. Hurrying along is going to make it worse, not better. Yes, I’m excited to see Washington DC (I’ve never been!) and looking forward to seeing family. But if we don’t do something every day, something to make us to look around at where we are and think “yeah, this is awesome”, I believe we are doing it wrong.

Yeah, that is a metaphor for life. The goal here isn’t subtlety.