The countdown to our next grand adventure is well underway. Look out Los Angeles, the Hinckley hillbillies will be cruising your freeways and streets, dining in your restaurants, and taking in the sites of the big city in less than forty-eight hours!
The Jeep received a clean bill of health, reservations are made, and the caretaker of the castle (our son) is well supplied. Packing for the expedition is in the capable hands of my dearest friend. The office is being left in the capable hands of my cohort.
There are a few last minute adjustments to the itinerary but these, when coupled with the unexpected and unplanned, are what give travel its zest. A road trip is the great escape, the shattering of the shackles that bind us to the grind stone day after day.
We have but two appointments that will require a diligent eye on the clicking clock – our stop at Auto Books – Aero Books in Burbank, and the interview with Jay Leno. All other obligations will be fluid with only the flow of traffic to dictate the speed and direction.
According to the latest weather reports our planned walk on the beach will now require an umbrella and rain coat but we will no be deterred. Our visit to Wrightwood may be tinged with snow enhancing the sense that we are are no longer in Kansas, or in our case, Arizona but we have coats. We may have to forgo the open air farmers market in Malibu and instead venture into the very belly of the beast for a visit to the original Farmers Market in Los Angeles but this will be mere blocks from the Peterson Automotive Museum.
As often happens in the days before a grand adventure begins, the Fates and Sirens work together in an effort to dissuade, discourage, and lead you astray. When the faint pulsing in my jaw turned into full fledged throbbing last evening, just two days after learning that at least one day of the vacation would be spent in a doctors office having a section of my nose removed and less than three days from my biggest break to date, discouragement and frustration threatened the euphoria.
Upon learning that unless it was an absolute emergency, I would be unable to see a dentist until the 29th, the fog seemed to thicken. Likewise with the realization it would be impossible to finish the task of cleaning out my mothers house before our departure.
So, with the proverbial “big break” at hand, and an opportunity to have a weekend with my dearest friend as well as an adventure on Route 66, there is little to do but exercise a bit of the faith talked about so often, and take to the road.
