My dear husband, Mr. GoodLife is an engineer, and as engineers come, a pretty stereotypical one at that… you know the type, detail oriented, practical, logical, systematic (A comes before B and yada yada yada). So when it comes to travel planning he does a pretty good job at putting my creative vision into execution, as long as I write it all down with clear steps… LOL…no I am just kidding… or am I?
Anyway, so when we decided to drive to the Farm during Thanksgiving, I knew he would Google the best route possible. He would check current road work and traffic patterns and research alternate routes. In short, the man would get it done! No worries.
The day of our trip I was coming down with a pretty nasty cold. I hadn’t felt that miserable in years. I would rather not get out of bed at all if possible, even opening my eyes was a monumental effort, but one thing you must know about me is I am not a quitter and I am stubborn as a bull. When I commit to doing something, by God I will do it! We were going to the Farm and we were going to stop at the Sand Dunes National Park, even if I had to crawl there to die.
I hopped on the passenger seat, adjusted my little “belly warmer” (our doggie), reclined the seat and made sure I had water, plenty of drugs and tissues at hand. As far as this trip would go, I was Miss Daisy.
About 30 mins into the drive we were going on the opposite direction I knew we had to go. My throat felt like sandpaper and I could barely afford to breathe through my mouth, much less speak, but my annoyance started flaring and I had to ask why on Earth were we going in the opposite direction?
Mr. GoodLife explained in true engineer fashion that he had researched all possible routes and after some consideration, this route was only 20 mins longer, but would be more scenic, providing plenty of clicking action to my photo addicted fingers. As you can imagine, I felt like a little shit for being so annoyed at him and thanked him for being so thoughtful.
On we go… Up to the mountains through bendy roads and sleepy little towns…the altitude working a number on my clogged ears.
Then we hit a snow storm. Snow, fog, asphalt curves, single lanes… not a good combination. We were driving at 20mph and we were not even a third of the way there. Scenic or not, this was going to be hell! My level of annoyance grew, but I breathed in and out and went along for the ride.
30 mins later, we had barely gone a few miles down the road, the wind picked up and we could not see a few feet in front of us. I was freezing inside a fully heated car and there was nothing in sight I could consider worthy of possibly getting stuck in a ditch, freezing to death. I was shooting daggers at Mr. GoodLife, annoyance level high and no way of making his life hell…my throat was on fire.
I resigned to the fact we would never get there and that we probably would be found in a week, frozen to death on the side of the road.
A few more miles down the road later, moving at the pace of escargots, and now desperately needing to pee, the sky cleared up and the sun came out. Pretty much a normal day in Colorado.
Many more miles and several hours later ( it took us twice as long to get there than the plan) driving through hills and plains, taking in the vastness of the Rockies and enjoying the warmth and incredible display of the almost setting sun over the horizon, I thanked my husband for deviating from his norm and choosing the harder and less travelled road.
Moral of the story: sometimes you need to act like your throat is on fire, trust in your husband/partner, let go of plans and enjoy the ride wherever it may lead you…