Road Trip Rules, Fiction

Gail asked if I had trip treats.

I held up the bag of carrot sticks in one hand and the large bag of gorp in the other.

She laughed, “I see a Buckee’s stop in our future.”

She wasn’t wrong. I always have such grand plans. I am going to eat healthy this time! Only to inevitably dive headfirst into endless bags of Beaver Nuggets.

That’s why our trips worked. We understood each other. We had the same taste in music and podcasts. Our bladder capacities matched. We were willing to tolerate each others foibles. For example, Gail had this thing about stopping at Welcome Centers. Whenever we crossed into a new state, she would have us pull into the official first rest area off the highway. She liked to walk around the room that held all of the paper brochures. She never took any. She never stopped at any of the attractions, as far as I knew. One time, I pointed out that all of this information is available online.

“Yeah,” she said, slightly distracted, continuing to wander about. “I like to see what each state has to say for itself.”

To give myself something to do, I started a PhotoPhile account with pictures from each rest stop. It has a weirdly large number of followers. Or maybe not weird. It was interesting to see how the same basic concept differs from state to state. Or maybe Gail is rubbing off on me.

Gail travels for work & I can work from anywhere, so I have become her semi-permanent roadtrip companion. In return for sharing the driving and being the companion to her Doctor Who, I get free mini-vacation in cities all over the country. Frequently on short notice.

Philadelphia next week? Sure.

Leave for Nevada in three days? Sure.

I know that she will be chatty on the way out and sleepy on the way home. At the destination, I see her rarely. She is scheduled from breakfast meetings to dinner conferences. Honestly, I’m not completely sure what she does, except that it pays well and keeps her on the road.

Keeps us on the road.