We have been planning a cross-country road trip for quite some time. It started with a proposed trip to my brother’s house and morphed into a Great American Road Trip. And then it almost broke down before we left the garage.
Our projected itinerary follows Route 50 eastbound and Route 66 westbound. I initially wanted to drop some things off at my brother’s house in St Louis, and then we decided to keep going to Annapolis to visit our son. And since we have to get home, we decided to do the return trip via Route 66. Then we added a couple of stops with friends and family…and viola…our delivery trip became a national expedition.
Last month, I spent two full days sitting (without moving) at the dining room table with my laptop planning the itinerary and stops, complete with hotels and lunch and dinner spots. I scored 2 bags of maps and guidebooks from AAA, and my husband ordered me a complete Route 66 library from Amazon so I consulted piles of maps, books and guides in the process.
My husband also found some guy on-line who plotted and posted the coordinates for Route 66 on his Garmin, so my husband was in charge of plotting our exact driving route and making our hotel reservations.
As of 3 days before we were scheduled to leave, I noticed that the hotel reservations hadn’t been made. Which wasn’t critical, since we could always make them as we went. Two days before we were scheduled to leave, I finished my packing list and all that was left for me was the actual packing. I glanced at my husband’s To Do list, and noticed it was two pages single-spaced, including the laundry.
Then disaster struck. Two days before we were scheduled to leave on our trip, we returned home late that evening from a family event. I remarked that the house seemed rather humid, and I was getting ready for bed when my husband rushed in, looking like a doctor with a grim prognosis. He stated very seriously “We may have to delay our trip. I’m serious.” He went on to explain how he had discovered a broken pipe under our house that was spraying water in the crawl space. The most worrisome part was that this probably had been going on for a while since we had heard a mysterious whooshing sound coming from below our dining room for months. We were concerned about mold. I started researching mold and water damage, and then flights to Annapolis.
My husband turned off the water (no laundry!) and decided to call the plumber first thing in the morning. We woke up at around 6:00 AM and drove 1 block to the YMCA to use their toilets (I told you the YMCA membership was a lifesaver). After we called the plumber, the pool guy showed up. I only heard part of the conversation but some important “cell” was broken and in need of repair or replacement. At that point, I decided what would be the most helpful was for me to return to the YMCA for my Gentle Yoga class. I also did what I am getting much better at since I retired – I turned the entire situation over to God and decided I would be at peace with whatever outcome, which was looking less and less like an extended road trip.
Two hours later, I returned from yoga to discover that my heroic husband had everything under control. The pipe had been repaired, there was no evidence of mold, the pool part was ordered and the washer and dryer were going. He had made arrangements with the plumber, pool service and our house sitter to have everything handled while were gone.
When I asked if he thought we would still be able to leave, perhaps a day later (since with all the house problems I assumed the To Do list still needed tackling), my husband informed me that we would be able to leave right on schedule. And we did – having begun our adventures before we even left the house.