WHEN We Go Back

My husband keeps saying when we go back to Ohio again, we are flying.

Two things I’d like to note here:  1.  He must have had a good time because he said WHEN we go back.  2.  He must have had a good time because, again, he said WHEN, and we did not fly, we drove.

I loved the road trip.  I loved looking at things and that my son loved looking at things.  I loved reading the weird signs and the funny names of places.  I loved the local places to eat we don’t have at home. I love that my son is STILL hung up on the fact that the “Liquor Barn” in Kentucky did not actually look like a barn.

We came back with bourbon, bourbon chocolates, and wine from Kentucky.  Yep, bought at the barn that looked like a car dealership.  T-shirts from Cedar Point in Ohio.  T-shirts from various Harley-Davidson dealerships along I-75.  Peaches, pecans, syrup, and jam from Georgia.  And pictures and memories from everywhere in between.  You can’t do that when you fly.

Sure, we would have had more time to do things at our destination had we flew, but to me there is just something special about visiting different places, even if it is just to use the bathroom at their local McDonalds.  You’d think that things were the same across this country, but they are not.  We have different stores, different restaurants, different people, different architecture, different ways of life.  The only way to truly see that is to experience it.

Yeah, we’ll be going back to Ohio.  And if I have my way, we may just be driving again.

Hopefully, one day we’ll have the time to drive to other parts of the country we have not experienced before. 

With me driving, so I don’t have to grab onto my seat when we’re driving in heavy traffic and slamming on brakes. Ah, but that’s why they have wine.  If only I had had some when my husband was going through downtown Atlanta…