Road Trip: Ready, set, GO!

We awoke at 6 a.m. on August 2nd to the view of the drop ceiling of my old bedroom at my Dad’s house, full of anticipation for our new traveling lifestyle. I’d always hated that drop ceiling, how it reminded me of the confines of classrooms in school. And I had a flutter of excitement as I knew that it would be some time before I slept underneath any roof at all again. The eagerness spread into a smile on my face as I dragged myself off the mattress in the dimly lit room, placing my bare feet on the wooden parquet floor.

It took an excruciating 3 hours to get on the road. We couldn’t have imagined how much loading and unloading the trunk of the 1994 Pontiac Sunbird would become second nature in the coming weeks as we attempted to squeeze our belongings into the sedan that first morning. It was like a puzzle without a reference picture. We had two large plastic containers for our food and food preparation, including an old beat up skillet and loads of oatmeal; We filled a tackle box with bathroom supplies- everything from toothbrushes to water purifying tablets; Two suitcases carrying all of the clothes we’d need for the trip, as well as a couple nicer outfits for eventually interviewing when we “landed” in California; Tent, sleeping bags, sleeping pads, etc… It took several tries to make everything fit, as we figured out just what order everything had to go in so that the trunk would close. And then there was the back seat filled to the brim as well. Finally, like the decorative bow on an overloaded present, the bikes perched precariously on the rack attached across the trunk. Those would clank and threaten to leap off the car until we figured out the precise procedure for mounting them and bungee cording them together.

Our first destination was on the other side of Rocky Mountain National Park, where a small green triangle on our map denoted a campground. I was a bundle of nerves, still wound up with the anxiousness to leave that had been prodding me all morning. I examined the map trying to figure out how to get from Highway 74 to Highway 36 in Boulder, having little luck deciphering the tiny streets that might connect the seemingly parallel highways. We were hungry and as we pulled into the bagel shop for breakfast on Broadway, a sign jumped out at us leading to the 36. It was the first moment of relaxation thus far and felt like a good omen as we ate our breakfast, reassured as we’d jumped our first small hurdle.

Finally able to relax, we found our highway and our trip began!