misadventures
While engorging on Mark Twain’s tantilizing details of the first sight of the Rock of Gibralter from the deck of a grand Atlantic oceanliner, and grand descriptions of the gilded & precisely manicured property of Versailles, I reflect upon my own travels. Somehow my stories of family vacations to Amish country and a week spent at Grandma’s house miles away from anything interesting pale in comparison. However, there is humor to be found in my misguided travels, and some value in their cautionary message. So I give you short excerpts:
Oh the places I have been, travel notes from a woman untraveled (working title)
1. Harlem, New York: After a late flight and a rental car fiasco, my family became quite turned about in New York City. Upon being stuck in the mother of all traffic jams until midnight, we finally freed ourselves from the unhappy congestion and were smooth sailing through a short-cut. Unfortunatley the short cut was not short nor did it cut to any place we wanted to be. This is how we came to be what is likely the only family of four, driving a 4-door Lexus at midnight in Harlem. A man on the sidewalk with a bright yellow shirt that said “F&*$ the World” on it, welcomed us to his world with one finger raised.
2. Holbrook, Arizona: Just beyond the reaches of the painted desert, the petrified forest and anything else resembling beauty lies Holbrook and a KOA campground. On a cold night some Februarys ago you may have come across me there, singing merrily, swapping stories around a campfire with college friends, too blurred by alcohol and friendship to care about our dreary locale. Our remoteness elevated our volume and overall rowdiness as we cavorted about on a childrens playground spinning each other on a twil-a-bout until we threw up.
3. Gallup, New Mexico: A bird of undisclosed species, nose dived in Gallop New Mexico, and in doing so, maybe because of speed, or maybe because of some innate character trait, shat on my freshly groomed mop of hair. Thats all I have to say about Gallup New Mexico.
4. Pagosa Springs, Colorado: You see the road signs for deer, you see road signs for elk, you even may see an occasional sign cutesy sign for duck crossing, but I bet you have never seen a sign for a bear. Be warned that highway signs cant prepare you for everything.
5. San Francisco, California: One can only truly experience the Golden Gate bridge in all of its fog-encroaching glory, by stolling along its suicide-hotline decorated walking path. But, there is a danger to an ill-informed tourist. Despite being a bridge, the golden gate has hours in which you are allowed and not allowed to traverse its paths. And, if tricked by the sunshine of the afternoon, you reach the island of Sausalito and come to the sudden realization that the reverse path is closed, you may find yourself in a SF pickle. Instead of the quaint island town just beyond the reaches of the bridge, you find Sausalito to be evasive, hidden from your view by a long stretch of winding freeway. If you find yourself in this unfortunate position as I did, I recommend hitchhiking. Be warned not all couples may be as kind as the lesbian variety that came to our rescue.
