Think back on your most memorable road trip.
I love road trips. I honestly really enjoy spending time in the car with my husband. Over the span of the almost 25 years that we have been together, every trip we’ve gone on has been a road trip. At least the ones that we’ve taken together. It’s hard to narrow down the one that is the most memorable for him and I.
Though I love going places with him, I especially enjoy road tripping it alone. My family lives 700 miles north of where I live and when I visit them, it’s about a 10 hour drive. It’s kind of rough doing it all in one day. In fact, there was one time I was hell bent on coming home early and I left their city at 6 pm on a Saturday and figured it would be no problem to drive through the night because I stay up late on Saturdays anyway. I got home at 2 a.m. and vowed that I would never do that again. Being a lone female driving in the middle of the night does not inspire confidence and safety when it comes to stopping at rest areas to use the bathroom. So I didn’t stop. I got gas not long after I left and I didn’t get out of my car again until I had driven the 700 miles back home. I was in actual pain from sitting in the driving position for so long. Not to mention I have no idea how I actually made it home during the last 10 minute stretch because my eyes were seriously heavy when I got within spitting distance of home.
But, still not the most memorable. I think the trip I took this past summer to a knitting camp in Syracuse was probably the most memorable, in recent memory anyway. There really have been some awesome road trips. I wrote about my experience on this epic trip in these two posts:
Things that are making me happy (part 6)
In a nutshell, I drove through a whole bunch of New England states that I had never been to. Drove through NYC which is a bucket list destination of mine, though I swear on my yarn stash that I will never drive my own car through that city again. I barely scratched the surface of all that NYC contains, but even that little sliver of Manhattan that I drove through during the evening rush hour was enough to make me hate the idea of ever driving through there again.
I made it to Syracuse for my knitting camp, after picking up a friend outside of Boston and driving across New York with her. And I did eventually make it home. But after my car engine died outside of Richmond, Virginia—aka, four hours away from home—I didn’t get back when I originally intended. I got back a day later. That was in July. My car got home four months later in November. Word of advice: Don’t buy a Kia! I think all in all, that trip was the most memorable because of how epic it was. There were so many moments of that trip, just in the driving up and back that make it one I won’t ever forget. Of course, the destination was pretty great too. I spent four days with my online knitting friends at an air B & B that we chipped in and rented (as we do every year) and we sat around and knit and chatted (as we do every year). They were the people who had supported me all through grad school and the year of principal hell that I went through. They, my husband, and my administrative assistant at work (now my friend) were the only people who knew what was really happening with me. It was incredibly important for me to go and be with those friends for our annual in-person gathering. It made all the drama of the journey to and from absolutely worth it.
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