Time Behind The Windshield

Last week I returned from an eleven day trip. I don't usually go anywhere for eleven days, much less drag our camper behind the vehicle. And I need to make sure I pay better attention next time when Mr. Slave Driver tells me how many miles we will be driving. As much as I hate to fly, I will admit that there are times it is a necessary evil. I just wish they'd let you get drunk before embarking onto the plane. They used to allow it, and it made flying a much more pleasurable experience for me.

The purpose of our trip was to watch PFC The Kid graduate from Basic Combat Training. Our first night on the road we stopped outside of Loveland, Colorado and camped at Boyd State Park, which was nice enough. We were joined at our campsite by my nephew Kyle and my nephdog Elvis,

 both of whom reside in the area. Also, I finally got to meet in real life "Conscripted Cherry", a member of a group who are fans of the writing duo  Bob Mayer and Jennifer Crusie. She was kind enough to drive an hour and a half one way to visit. Plus she brought me a bottle of wine, so she has my allegiance and undying friendship for life.

The next day we drove to Wichita, Kansas. Now, I lived in Missouri for eight years, and I've been to Kansas a few times. It doesn't change much. We stayed in an "RV Park" that was situated on a major road across from train tracks. In the interest of saving lives, the engineers felt compelled to blow the train horn each and every time they passed by, apparently to keep us from wandering zombie like onto the tracks. So that night we slept forty-five minutes at a time. Thanks, Atchinson, Topeka and the Santa Fe!

We stopped and visited the Oklahoma City National Memorial, which was very powerful. If you're even passing by the area I highly suggest a visit. All those empty chairs... 

I saw my first dead armadillo; I was very excited. My people laughed at me, but I don't care. Nothing quite stirs the blood like a toes up armadillo on the side of an Oklahoma highway. Then it was on to our temporary final destination, Fort Sill. We camped on the base and were lulled to sleep nightly by the sound of artillery fire. I do not recommend this campsite if you suffer from PTSD.

Graduation day came, and we collected our soldier and headed out for San Antonio, Texas.

After we left we were treated to a gorgeous sunset in Texas. 

We spent an afternoon hanging around The Alamo, 

and of course I had to chat with a couple of the San Antonio carriage drivers. They really seem to be big on the Cinderella Carriages out there. And grey percherons. 

Then we had to deposit PFC The Kid at her new temporary home, Fort Sam Houston. The next day it was off to Roswell, New Mexico. I know what you're thinking... Rosewell, that's where John Chisholm, originator of the Chisholm Trail was from.

Oh, yeah, they also have that other thing going on...

We drove to Albuquerque specifically to stop at Trader Joes. Why? Because I'm a wine-o and I like Two-Buck Chuck (Charles Shaw) wines which are actually three bucks in New Mexico. Now, I'm not saying that we brought back seven cases of wine, because transporting liquor over the Utah state line is illegal. But if it wasn't illegal, I might do that. 

We got to see a lot of this while we were driving:

After spending the night in Dolores, Colorado in some guy's back yard advertised as an RV Park, we finally returned to Utah. Back home to our dogs and sitting down in a house that wasn't moving. It was a very long trip, but we were able to spend some time with our soldier, and that made the whole thing worth it. 

I'm blogging over at Wise Words today. Stop by. And if you go to the Virtual Book Tour Cafe you can sign up to win a free copy of my novel The Carriage Trade.