Each morning of this trip, we wake up early.
Earlier than usual. And we’re early birds in our real life
Maybe it’s the fact that we’re in beds that don’t belong to us.
Maybe it’s because we feel some level of urgency when we become semi conscious.
But we get a move on.
Feed the dog.
(Though not in that order. The dog eats first.)
Put everything back in the car.
Then we drive.
We take turns.
Brent does a lot of the driving. But I do some.
We have pre-arranged stops that align with meeting up with friends for a meal.
Last night, it was Mike, someone Brent went to school with. He lives in Sacramento. Henry drove a car from San Francisco to join us. We ate a meal, caught up, then we came back to the hotel where Stanley was waiting.
Today, we get to see Brent’s friend Alan and finally meet his son. We also get to have dinner with Randy and Nona.
Both of those things will keep us going, because tomorrow is a big day.
I honestly don’t know how the truck drivers on the road do it.
How they can drive as their jobs.
Hundreds of miles a day.
I’m halfway through our 1300-mile trip, and I won’t want to take a long trip in the car for a good long while.