Tag Archives: road trip

Thank Goodness My Husband Chases Storms…?

I knew on Thursday that my trip home from Little Rock today might be dicey. I considered, very briefly, to come home last night to avoid the potential danger I could face driving up the Missouri/Kansas border to my home in Kansas City. That (would-be) 7-hour drive (6 hours for ol’ Lead Foot here) was supposed to be smack-dab in the middle of the moderate risk area. Anyone who follows storms like my husband does (literally, he follows them, the fool), will tell you that moderate risk days are not to be trifled with. [ugh, dangling participle]

Mother Nature wasn’t playing around today either.

I made the fortuitous, and educated, decision to leave Little Rock before nine this morning. I only drove through one moderate downpour, and had virtually no issues with rain otherwise, except leaving my gas cap off for 120 miles during said downpour .

Around 1:30, my husband contacted me to ask where I was. “Lamar (MO),” I told him.

“Don’t stop,” he replied. “There’s a storm coming up behind you going about 60 miles per hour.”

“Not a problem. It’ll never catch me!”

(Please don’t tell the cops, but my speed was between 83 and 88 miles per hour nearly the entire trip. I’m not bragging, and if my mother ever reads this, she will no doubt reprimand her 40 year-old daughter, but I am admitting my guilt. Like I said, please don’t tell the highway patrol.)

I was right. I missed all the weather. I missed the tornadoes (plural) that ran along Highway 40 on which I had just sped, my satellite radio blasting, just a few hours prior. I missed the mayhem, the disaster, the lives lost, the property destroyed.

And for that, I thank my crazy, adrenaline-riddled husband who chases storms and worries me constantly every spring. That dumbass (and I mean that lovingly) kept me from harm’s way. Guess he wants to keep me around a little longer.

Probably because he needed clean socks.


Big Girl Trips

I haven’t ever been on my own. Not really. I had roommates in college, a live-in boyfriend during and after (who eventually became my husband), and a baby a year after getting my degree. When baby daddy and I separated for a little while while we both got our shit together, I still had the baby almost every night, so I can confidently say that I have spent maybe a dozen nights alone in my life.

What is an independent woman of 40 supposed to do when she wants to be alone – truly alone – for a few days?

She takes a road trip by her ever-loving self, that’s what.

In fewer than two days, I will get in my car and drive away, far away, from my family and job. I will spend most of the daylight hours in the car, but when I arrive, I will check into a hotel, grab my laptop and my purse, and head outdoors to a literary festival. I’m going to go pick the brains of writers I’ve never heard of. I’m going to listen and soak up the literary genius and the hackneyed advice alike. I am going to sit in caf├ęs, visit a presidential library, and write. No laundry, no dishes, no papers to grade. Just me, myself, and my thoughts…along with a few thousand other people attending the same festival.

I will be on my own for the first time in 40 years, if only for a couple days, and I couldn’t be more excited.

Stay tuned…