Kat and I took our first road trip a couple weekend ago. Yes, we did a little overnighter for prom a month or so ago, but the run to Wenatchee would have to classified properly as a real road trip, largely because it required lots of logistics, from hotel rooms to luggage.
For those of you in the civilian, mundane world, a road trip might require a couple bags of clothes and maybe a cooler. When you’re a pirate, it’s not that simple.
This particular road trip required lots of support equipment. There were gun cases, hats, costuming, more hats, food for the potluck, guitar, a small cannon, chairs, food and a lot more stuff that escapes me at the moment.
I must interject that this was not just a two-person road trip. We had two teenage girls with this, doubling or even tripling the amount of support equipment and food required.
We had so much stuff, in fact, that we needed to rent a bigger vehicle. Mind you, Kat and I both have mid-sized SUVs. These are hardly slouches in the hauling stuff category. They can really hold their own, even with all the seats up for a full passenger load.
Unfortunately, our cargo manifest would have barely fit into both SUVs and neither of us relished the idea of driving 2 1/2 hours in separate cars. After all, this was our first official road trip.
We ended up renting a vehicle that came to be known as the Great White Whale. They were short on minivans at Enterprise, our first choice, so they gave us an Infiniti QX80 instead. It was quite the vehicle, complete with cameras all the way around it so that as you parked, you received an overhead view of the surroundings. It even had wipers that could read the rain and decide if, when and how much wiping it should do with no intervention required on your part. Cool and creepy at the same time.
Even with this behemoth we had to leave a few things behind on our first road trip. But no matter. On Friday morning, we somehow got almost all of it into the Whale, collected the girls and headed off to Wenatchee.
As anyone who has entered into a relationship knows, a road trip can be a make or break moment. You may get along fine at the old homestead, but once you hit the open road in a finite space, all hell can break loose.
One or the other may want to stop and ask for directions, everyone in the car has different restroom timings, there are sights to see that may not be able to be seen because there is a schedule, and no one ever seems to get hungry at the same time.
Kat and I have been through a lot of compatibility tests to date. We’re kind of going through the Graduate School of Relationships, mastering all the tests so far with aplomb.
The trip turned out to be something of a lark. We stopped at Zeke’s, which I had never been to, so I could revel in an Elk burger and she in some deep fried mushrooms and memories of her youth. We even all managed to synchronize our bladders for the entire journey.
Once we rolled into town we got the girls in their room and Kat and I unpacked in ours. Within a short time, we were off on the road again to party with friends, Kat showing her great navigation skills without once criticizing my driving skills, or lack of them. We aced the first test.
We also passed the “can we stay in close quarters for more than a day” test, managing to enjoy our time together in our hotel room (minds out of the gutter now, OK, get back in it for just a moment), discovering that our lifestyles and prepping to go out styles are very simpatico, though there was a moment when I overstepped my bounds by eating too much of her warm chocolate cookie and paid for the transgression with four new fresh cookies purloined from the hotel reception desk while they weren’t looking. Phew!
Considering that we were on a non-stop schedule of up-and-at-ems and late-to-beds, we did extremely well. Even with the added pressure of traveling with teens and having to spend long days in the sun, baking in the heat and the pressure of performance, we didn’t have a single disagreement or run in.
Remarkable, given that some of my previous road trips would quickly spiral out of control, the two of us being reduced to oaths, and this was just on a run across the street to the supermarket.
Forty-eight hours can make or break anyone on a road trip and this trip was no exception. After a second day of performing in the heat, I was really wiped. I usually don’t do well on the trip back, even coming close to becoming a traffic fatality in Key Largo one year, as I slowly fell into a trance followed by an overpowering desire to take a siesta. Such is the case of the famed “adrenaline drop” I always refer to after pouring so much of your soul and energy into making an audience laugh.
Once again, Kat and I passed with flying colors. Without even telling me at the time, she fought off more than once case of the sleepies and stayed awake, keeping me company and making sure that I was O.K. Sure, she would have loved to have slept, but as my wingman on this particular journey she wasn’t about to leave me, even for a moment.
It looks like we made it through Road Trip 101. We not only didn’t have a single tense moment, but drew closer because of the experience. And a funny thing happened along the way. I lost my dread of road trips. I no longer have to worry about my other half tripping me up on a road trip or tripping out entirely, turning an otherwise grand adventure on the open road into the highway from hell with the devil riding shotgun.
In the Emerald City, still certain that light was green when I went through it,
– Robb