“Hey, let’s go on a road trip!”, may be one of my all-time favourite suggestions. The plan was to travel across the United States for two months from top to bottom, and coast to coast, trying to visit as many national parks as possible along the way. When the envelope from the US National Parks Service arrived in the mail it became real. We had a ticket to fun burning a hole in the dashboard.
It felt like a good time to leave the city. The day before we left, a cigarette butt (Thanks a freaken lot, guy upstairs) landed on me burning a hole through my clothes, I was stung by an angry wasp, and was popping a power-pack of antibiotics to stop my head from exploding (sinus infections are the worst). I was really at the end of my rope.
So we packed up the car and headed out on an adventure. I nestled into my sleeping bag feeling all of the feels-burning and freezing, imploding and exploding, wondering whether I needed a doctor or an exorcist. The good thing about the long car ride was that there was nothing to do but rest in the passenger seat. The bad thing was that Doug had a front row seat to the disgusting-human show: something no one should have to witness up close.
And this is how it began…a stuffy, sweaty, achy break towards freedom. First stop: Chicago!