The older I get, traveling seems to be one of my favorite occupations. Not that I get to do it that much. But each summer we seem to try to fit in more and more places to see.
This summer we’ve agreed that the Captain needs some time away from us and vice versa, and he’s spending a month in gorgeous Montana. I lived there for a couple of seasons one summer back when M was born.Why do I say a couple of seasons? Because there it snows anytime from Labor Day to Memorial Day! And often both. So spring, summer and fall take place in a condensed few weeks. But it is beautiful.
I’ve opted to drive him out, so I can visit B in Reno and see the awesome Sierra Nevada Journeys program, research my novel setting in the Glacier region, as well as see our friend Chase in California. What had slipped my mind was the insanity of planning a trip from HERE to THERE and back while co-managing schedules for 6 other people across the country.
The afore-mentioned B will be running camps up in the mountains and not in till the 20th. My Chicago gardening guru sister will be off speaking in the midwest somewhere the weekend of the 15th. My ex sister-in-law is running a full scale dog show the end of the week we wanted to visit and will be distracted big time. Chase pried two days out of her work schedule to meet up, and I hope we can be there at the same time. B’s new live-in (yay!) will need to travel back to Canada by the 28th.
Somehow I also have to remember that I can’t drive 15 hours in a day with three growing kids and the stiffness that fibromyalgia brings. (Because this time the Cabana Boy has to work and can’t go with; a serious blow for the travel guru who prefers to sit back and admire the scenery and take pictures. Bummer.)
So I need to bend and flex around all those other events. But overall, I’m still looking forward, and planning to blog on the road with pictures. I’m amazed each year about what a wonderful land we have–so many climates and landscapes, innovative museums, weird tourist attractions, mountains, lakes, forests and….corn. Lots and lots of corn. For about 1,000 miles across the mid-section.
Soon as I get the wagons rounded up, we’re off. Westward ho!