It’s practically miraculous, the way this road trip works. We mapped out our route, we drive on it, and if we perservere long enough, we make it just where we planned to be. The maps don’t lead us astray. It’s not like the city, where you can look at a map, say that it doesn’t look that far, set out and find yourself waylaid in a traffic snarl more often than not. For the most part, when the map says that it will take 9 hours to get there, just about 9 hours later, we pull in.
Except when there are surprises. Like the medical emergency that required a helicopter to land on a bridge a half mile in front of us, while we stood baking over a swampy river.
There aren’t any shortcuts. 90 miles to our destination means driving every single one of those 90 miles. There aren’t special routes that only we know about. If you want to cross the Achafalaya swamp, there is only one bridge that goes there. So stay on it, keep going, and you’ll find yourself pulling in to your parents driveway.
And that’s the beauty of this whole adventure. Because some things are better in person, and we’ve travelled a lot of miles just for them. A friend’s newborn baby, a sister’s new house, even the new flowers my mom planted just aren’t the same over the phone. It’s just one of those challenges that we have to drive this far to see them, but it’s wonderful to be able to do it.
New homes, babies, friends, family. We drove all this way to see you, and we coudn’t be happier.