After two and a half weeks and over 3,000 miles, I'm back home in Colorado. My back is just starting to forgive me after it had to endure eight different beds, all very nice beds (except one and the less said about that the better), but none had the 4-inch memory foam to which it's become accustomed.
I used to love flying when I needed to get somewhere. The added security and the cheapening of the airlines changed that. Driving is my choice nowdays, even if it takes longer and may actually be more expensive.
That's okay, though. I build in extra time for a leisurely drive. No 12-14 hour drives at one shot. By then my whole body is vibrating and sleep is hard to come by afterward. Nope, seven hours is the max. And when I can, I avoid large freeways. Weird, huh? Of course, that's impossible when one needs to get through Nebraska and the only way to do it is by taking I-80 with its sea of semis. But if I'm heading down to Chicago from Wisconsin, I find as many small roads as I can in order to avoid Illinois tollways and their drivers.
Besides, it's prettier on the road less traveled. Its less stressful. Yeah, sometimes you get behind a farm vehicle on a road with few passing zones, but that's the perfect time to relax into it. Some can't. Oh, I've done my share of fruitless swearing at oblivious people in cars, but that whole "fruitless" thing has pretty much hit home. That's when I turn on some music. It might take five minutes or half an hour to finally get around that tractor or for it to pull off. Some would say that's five minutes or half an hour they'll never get back. I say that's five minutes or half an hour I enjoyed some music.