Recently I planned a fabulous, inexpensive holiday for myself. But, it's interesting how journeys take on a life of their own.
When I found out my daughter had a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to play music with her high school band on the steps of the Lincoln Memorial, my parent gland fully engaged. I decided I had to make the trip, too. After all, it's only 10-1/2 hours from southern Indiana to Washington, D.C. I have a relatively new car that gets great gas mileage and plenty of audio books to keep me company. Road trip! I haven't taken a serious road trip by myself, since . . . scanning memory banks ... gasp ... since before parenthood. This trip was way over due.
Then, a week before departure, my son expressed interest in going, too. I'd imagined full days of uninterrupted quiet time for myself (sole introvert in a constantly wound-up family of social creatures—see R.L. LaFevers recent article to appreciate my frame of mind), but I was willing to be flexible and trade in my solo trip for an interesting parenting experience. After all, how often does a teenager ask to spend time with his mother? I checked with his teachers and arranged to get his 7th-grade homework assignments done beforehand. We were set. Our adventure was to be an educationa____l opportunity for both of us.
This was the basic plan:
- Day 1, Thursday - Drive east all day. Stay at my friend Tina's house in Maryland.
- __Day 2, __Friday - Be a Smithsonian museum geek all day.
- __Day 3, __Saturday - See and hear the band play at the Lincoln Memorial in the morning (the focal point of the trip), and then tag along with the band for an afternoon of memorial hopping.
- __Day 4, __Sunday - Sleep in and lazily head back west sometime in the afternoon. Spend the night at a state park in the Appalachians.
- __Day 5, __Monday - Hike a short trail in the morning. In the afternoon, drive another 6 hours home.
Here's what really happened. (Brace yourself. The facts aren't pretty):
- __Day 1, __Thursday - Drive until the car breaks down. Get towed to a college town in West Virginia, and pay $100 for a hotel room. (Reminder to self: still need to pay for the tow.)
- __Day 2, __Friday - Spend the morning in a auto service shop waiting room. Pay another $100. Spend the afternoon driving to our destination.
- __Day 3, __Saturday - Daughter's once-in-a-lifetime-concert at the Lincoln Memorial is canceled due to weather. Dodge thunderstorms and downpours. Skip the National Archives because the line is too long and make it to only three crowded and stuffy museums in a city where there are too many museums to count, and apparently enough visitors to stuff them all.
- __Day 4, __Sunday - Find out the bicycle tour of national monuments is already booked. Rent bikes for a self-guided tour, during which the chain on one bike falls off and jams.
- __Day 5, __Monday - Drive west all day. Arrive home after 10, thoroughly exhausted, needing a week of rest to recover from the trip.
Before Day 1 was over, my son summed up the trip this way: "Sucky." I thought he used restraint with his language choices, and I was ready to give him gold stars for demonstrating exceptional maturity and an even temper in the face of serious distress.
Those made of weaker stuff might have bailed that first day. But when the oil plug cracked, we were already more than 2/3rds of the way to our destination. We didn't yet know the Lincoln Memorial concert would be canceled. Yes, rain was in the forecast, but I've seen these kids march in a drenching downpour. Understand, they're among the elite from a state filled with highly competitive band geeks. Nothing stops them. How could we stop? So we pressed on, determined to make the best of it.
To find out how we survived our five day holiday, fraught with unexpected disasters, read Part 2 of my story, coming soon.
