Tuesday, March 09, 2004
HIGH ROAD, LOW ROAD
When morning came it was time for our goodbyes. It’s always the worst part of the trip for me….I love hello’s but I hate goodbyes. It runs in the family….my grandmother Stricklett would only say, “So long” I never heard her say goodbye. Usually we go one step at a time towards the car….inch by inch…being followed by the family host……finally getting there….one leg in….then two….then sit there with the motor running. It prolongs the torture and stops all hopes of getting an early start but in defense of the ritual we always knew it would be a long time before we would get to see each other again.
My dad, on the other hand, preferred getting up about 3:00 am, slipping out and eating breakfast 200 miles down the road. No complaining by my mother ever changed his mind. In my senior years I can see that dad hated it as much as the rest of us but he had the tactic of avoidance. Leave them sleeping was his motto.
This particular morning we had a compromise. Since we didn’t drive out together, we decided to follow one another all the way back to Missouri. Becky and Di Di were going to ride with mom and dad in the back of the pick-up, in the camper. John and we would be in our car. We left Louis and Gail standing at the picket fence waving and smiling while they grew smaller and smaller in the distance. We all had a lump in our throat.
Popping up over the hill was the work-a-day world. Traffic humming a monotonous sound of engines taking commuters to work. We had previously decided to gas up at a nearby station and pulled in by the gas pumps. Plans were made to follow I-90 and I-82 down to the Oregon line. We finished at the pumps first so pulled over to the side to allow others to fill at our pump. We were visiting and waiting for dad to fill and take the lead when we saw their pick-up shoot out of the parking lot and barrel down to the InterState below. He was driving like the devil himself was after him and by the time we came over the hill to see where he had gone, we lost him in all the traffic. We didn’t see them anyplace.
Then the perplexity hit us. We were at our starting point so how would we ever hook up to follow them home? We had the girls luggage with us and they didn’t have any money to eat on. We drove like mad on the pre-planned route and then were afraid we might be ahead of them so we would stop and wait. We spent the whole morning driving fast to maybe catch them and then stopping to see if they would catch us. By late afternoon we decided it was a lost cause and we may as well just give it up. We continued driving until we crossed the Oregon line, caught I-84 and stopped at Huntington. We were starved and decided to go ahead and get something to eat.
Warren, my husband, pulled into the parking area and we got out of the car shaking off the stiffness from riding so long. We went in and were pleased with the appearance of the place. It was clean and friendly so we ordered and sat there discussing the events of the day. We couldn’t figure why dad drove off so fast and why we never saw them on the road anywhere.
As we were sitting and thinking about it all, I happened to look towards the large window in the place and saw mom, dad and the girls walking to the door. My chin dropped to the floor and I jumped up as they came in to let them see us. It was their turn for the “chin drop.” They had been as puzzled as we had as to how we got separated. As dad’s story unfolded we could see the problem.
Dad had finished filling his tank and gone in to pay. In the meantime we had pulled over on the opposite side of the lot. He, coming out, saw we weren’t where we had been, looked towards the InterState and thought he saw us going over the hill the wrong way. He drove like mad to catch us but never saw us again. So all day they drove fast, stopped to see if we were behind them……on and on…..until they gave up the chase and decided to eat at Huntington.
For some reason, a giant revision of plans brought us both to the same place to eat within 10-minutes of each other. It was something we laughed about and puzzled over it’s happening for many years. I am still amazed as I write this that it all came out so well.
Of course, after that we were VERY together the rest of the way home. It was a story book ending of a wonderful trip…….
Until tomorrow,
Essentially Esther
My dad, on the other hand, preferred getting up about 3:00 am, slipping out and eating breakfast 200 miles down the road. No complaining by my mother ever changed his mind. In my senior years I can see that dad hated it as much as the rest of us but he had the tactic of avoidance. Leave them sleeping was his motto.
This particular morning we had a compromise. Since we didn’t drive out together, we decided to follow one another all the way back to Missouri. Becky and Di Di were going to ride with mom and dad in the back of the pick-up, in the camper. John and we would be in our car. We left Louis and Gail standing at the picket fence waving and smiling while they grew smaller and smaller in the distance. We all had a lump in our throat.
Popping up over the hill was the work-a-day world. Traffic humming a monotonous sound of engines taking commuters to work. We had previously decided to gas up at a nearby station and pulled in by the gas pumps. Plans were made to follow I-90 and I-82 down to the Oregon line. We finished at the pumps first so pulled over to the side to allow others to fill at our pump. We were visiting and waiting for dad to fill and take the lead when we saw their pick-up shoot out of the parking lot and barrel down to the InterState below. He was driving like the devil himself was after him and by the time we came over the hill to see where he had gone, we lost him in all the traffic. We didn’t see them anyplace.
Then the perplexity hit us. We were at our starting point so how would we ever hook up to follow them home? We had the girls luggage with us and they didn’t have any money to eat on. We drove like mad on the pre-planned route and then were afraid we might be ahead of them so we would stop and wait. We spent the whole morning driving fast to maybe catch them and then stopping to see if they would catch us. By late afternoon we decided it was a lost cause and we may as well just give it up. We continued driving until we crossed the Oregon line, caught I-84 and stopped at Huntington. We were starved and decided to go ahead and get something to eat.
Warren, my husband, pulled into the parking area and we got out of the car shaking off the stiffness from riding so long. We went in and were pleased with the appearance of the place. It was clean and friendly so we ordered and sat there discussing the events of the day. We couldn’t figure why dad drove off so fast and why we never saw them on the road anywhere.
As we were sitting and thinking about it all, I happened to look towards the large window in the place and saw mom, dad and the girls walking to the door. My chin dropped to the floor and I jumped up as they came in to let them see us. It was their turn for the “chin drop.” They had been as puzzled as we had as to how we got separated. As dad’s story unfolded we could see the problem.
Dad had finished filling his tank and gone in to pay. In the meantime we had pulled over on the opposite side of the lot. He, coming out, saw we weren’t where we had been, looked towards the InterState and thought he saw us going over the hill the wrong way. He drove like mad to catch us but never saw us again. So all day they drove fast, stopped to see if we were behind them……on and on…..until they gave up the chase and decided to eat at Huntington.
For some reason, a giant revision of plans brought us both to the same place to eat within 10-minutes of each other. It was something we laughed about and puzzled over it’s happening for many years. I am still amazed as I write this that it all came out so well.
Of course, after that we were VERY together the rest of the way home. It was a story book ending of a wonderful trip…….
Until tomorrow,
Essentially Esther
