Epic Road Trip Day 2

In my monumental effort to skip the holidays, I decided a road trip was in order. I tried to plan it out. I looked at apps that map routes and highlight attractions along the way. I browsed air b and b listings and read dozens of hotel ads. I overthought destinations. In the end, I just threw some clothes in a bag, and told Shayne we were headed out. He asked if Carl’s Jr in Walsenburg was a possibility, so we headed south.

I know every inch of the highway between Pueblo and Walsenburg. I can still see the ghosts of the billboards from my childhood, the site of the gas station in Apache where we often stopped to adjust the styrofoam cooler from squeaking. I automatically look for the metal roof of the barn Shayne and I rented for a few months outside Colorado City. I keep my eyes peeled for the white tail of antelope and the subtle movements of coyote. And I feel my dad next to me when I am on that stretch of the highway.

Shayne asked me if we were going to Albuquerque. I guess that made sense in a way. My daughter can’t come home for Christmas, so we go to her, but I had something different in mind, because I took the cut-off towards Amarillo. I have only been on that part of the highway twice, both times with my father. That’s when I knew that my dad was coming along on this trip with us. I always feel my mom around me, but my dad only comes when I really need him. I told Shayne that we were just going to let the road show us the way. He just put his seat back, and settled in for a nap. I turned up the radio.

We spent the night just outside Dallas. I told Shayne that we used to go on roadtrips when I was a kid and back in the day, there was no on line booking for hotels. You watched out the window and looked for the vacancy signs. I told him how we used to pull up at a motel and watch my dad enter the the lobby, hanging all over the front seats wondering if the pool was heated, if there was a diving board, if there was a TV in the room, because in the 70’s that wasn’t a guarantee. We’d try to read our dad’s expression when he came out. Sometimes he grinned and put his thumb up, sometimes he’d shake his head. Sometimes he’d shake his head, but then hold up the key after we sank back into the seats, groaning over another search. Shayne laughed when I told him that story. I think that’s my favorite part of traveling with Shayne. The voices seem to take a backseat and set him free.

When we turned toward Shreveport instead of Austin, “Shayne said, “Louisiana?” I said, “I think.” He said, “I call alligators, then.” I asked him if he wanted to stay in a hotel or an air b and b. He said, “I picked alligators. That was my decision.” At that moment, we passed a restaurant called Felix’s and I saw a billboard for The Golden Nugget in Biloxi. I remembered my dad so excited to show us the Golden Nugget our first trip to Vegas. So here we are–a bougie room at The Golden Nugget in Biloxi, Mississippi. Getting ready for a swamp tour to see alligators. How is that for skipping Christmas?