On the Road with Joe Rodeo & Chickenhead

2013 has been a big year for my family.  My dad turned 70, my sister and her family moved from Massachusetts to North Carolina, my parents had their 45th anniversary, we had a week long family reunion in Wapiti, Wyoming, my mom turned 65 (that's happening today, actually - happy birthday, Mom!), and my little family moved from Portland to Asheville.  Quite a collection of milestones.

Despite the evil speculations of my anxiety-ridden brain, our 2-week journey across the country went quite smoothly, with only a cracked windshield creating a brief delay.  Here are some highlights from our 3511 (but who's counting?) mile trek.

1.  Rockin' the Rest Area
A few hours into the drive, we stopped at our first rest area.  We used the bathroom, checked the cat carriers to make sure our two cats were still alive, gave the dogs water, and walked them around for a bit.  When it seemed all of our tasks were complete, I asked my husband if he was ready to go, and this was his response:  "Yup.  I just need to do a cartwheel real quick."  

And he did.  He did several, in fact.  The other folks at the rest area displayed a menagerie of priceless facial expressions as we got back in our cars and drove away.

"Might we also suggest turning a cartwheel or two..."

2.  Walkie Talkies Are Wicked Awesome
A couple of weeks before our departure date, my husband suggested we get walkie talkies.  I balked at the idea, arguing that we could use our cell phones for communication and that all we would gain from purchasing walkie talkies would be more wretched possessions.  (Nothing like a big move to make a person learn to hate everything she owns.)  But he insisted the walkie talkies would be a good idea, and I finally conceded.

It turns out he was right, because having the walkie talkies was super fun and also allowed us to have vital exchanges on the road, such as this one:
  
Him:  "Joe Rodeo to Chickenhead.  Come in, Chickenhead."
Me:  "Bah-gok!"
Him:  "Did you see that cow?"
Me:  "Sure did!  It was really cute."
Him:  "Mooo!"
Me:  "Ha ha ha!  Mooo!"

Ya gotta love cows

Here's another example of the critical information we shared via our walkie talkies:
 
Me:  "Chickenhead to Joe Rodeo."
Him:  "I'm here."
Me:  "My butt hurts."
Him:  "Mine, too."

3.  Jasper v. Libby
Our two dogs experience car travel very differently.  As soon as Libby enters a car, she becomes a hyperventilating train wreck of panic.  She paces, emits solitary, loud barks at sporadic intervals for no apparent reason, occasionally sneezes right in the driver's face, and pants ferociously.  During one journey from Santa Cruz to Portland, she proved that she could maintain Breath of Fire nonstop for ten straight hours.  Being her chauffeur is a terrible, exhausting experience.

Jasper, on the other hand, loves long drives, or really drives of any duration, because as soon as he enters a car, he does this:   

For Jasper, a car ride means a nap, so as far as he's concerned, the longer the drive the better.  So long as you're not looking for a whole lot of interaction, Jasper makes the perfect traveling companion.  And he's pretty freakin' adorable as well.

4.  America's New Mascot
During our family reunion (which began 2 days into our adventure),we toured a wildlife center outside Yellowstone and were introduced to a cognitively impaired Bald Eagle named Isis.  The folks who run the center don't know if Isis was born that way, got hit by a car, or what, but she is definitely more than a little off.

I was watching Isis' weird behaviors and starting to feel pretty bummed out when I heard my cousin's husband say, "A cognitively impaired Bald Eagle, huh?  Seems like a more appropriate symbol for America."  And that was when I stopped feeling bummed out, because I was so stimulated by the idea of that slight, yet critical, shift in American symbolism, and I imagined presenting the idea to the American populace like so:

"No, it's still a Bald Eagle.  It just happens to be cognitively impaired, just like this country.  So it's perfect."

"Um...is there something on my face?"

5.  How Not to Travel Light
If your goal for a long road trip is to travel light, then make sure not to (a) be in the process of  moving across the country, and (b) have a shit ton of animals.  Our daily setup and breakdown processes were completely ridiculous.  Every evening when we arrived at a destination, we had to empty our cars of the following:

• 2 dogs, including leashes, harnesses, and poop bags
• 2 suitcases
• 3 bags full of computers, chargers, books, maps, etc.
• 2 cat carriers (complete with cats!)
• a litter box and litter
• 3 different kinds of pet food
• 6 food & water bowls
• 2 pet beds
• 2 coolers full of ice, food and beverages
• 3 big plants 
• our wonderful walkie talkies & their charger

Each evening when we arrived at a motel or the home of some wonderfully loving and accepting relative, we'd set up all the feeding/drinking/pottying/sleeping stations, then break everything down, pack it into our cars, and drive off the next morning.  It was absurd.

Although it could've been much worse

But now we're here!  We have arrived in Asheville, and none of us wants to get in a car ever again.

As far as how everyone's feeling, I think this photo of our cat Sid explains it best:

We are super fucking tired.  And quite content.  :)

Here We Go!

Um...are you sure this is the way?

A few years ago, I had a dream that my husband and I were driving over a ridiculously high bridge, and all of a sudden he took a sharp turn, crashed through the railing, and drove us straight out into the air.  As we plunged downward and I felt my stomach respond to the free fall, I looked over at him, wide-eyed and terrified.  He looked back at me, grabbed the shoulder strap of his seat belt and said, "Here we go!"

HOLY CRAAAAAAAP!

That is very much how I feel right now (aside from the fear of imminent death), because tomorrow morning my little family begins our big move to the east coast.  My husband says that if our move were a Sesame Street episode, it would be brought to you by the number 2, because 2 humans will be traveling with 2 dogs and 2 cats in 2 cars over the next 2 weeks.  When those 2 weeks come to an end, provided we haven't driven off any bridges, we will arrive in Asheville, North Carolina.

I'm an anxious person by nature, and as such it's quite easy for me to whip myself into a horrified frenzy through the careful consideration of infinite, absurd "WHAT IF?!?!?" scenarios.  However, in an effort to prevent a full blown panic attack, I'm trying to think of the move as an adventure, rather than a series of potential disasters.  I think this sign is a good representation of my current thought process:

When I find myself thinking, "What if all our tires go flat in the middle of nowhere?  What if the cats escape from the car?  What if everyone in Asheville hates us?  What if we can't find work?  What if (insert worse case scenario here)???" I simply picture this sign and tell myself the following:

Don't focus on the DANGER, Al.  Focus on the WEEE!

Therefore, I have decided this journey will be brought to you by the number 2 and the word WEEE!

Here we go!