Texas: Day One

We have just wrapped up another successful RV trip, but this time I was unable to access the internet; therefore, I didn’t even attempt to keep up with the daily blog. I am beginning to regret that decision, so I am going to make an attempt at a past tense, recalled version of the events, but before I do, I need to make a complaint about Texas drivers…. I know… I know… How can I make a blanket statement about the drivers in Texas? Well, I once heard an author (can’t remember her name… apologies) say, “It’s not that stereotypes are false. It’s that they are incomplete.” As I write, we have just been cut off by another sedan. I have no idea what these people are thinking! WE.CAN’T. STOP. Why must you people continually attempt to squeeze between us and the other RV-ing family with whom we are traveling? Can’t you see that there isn’t really room? This must have happened 15 times on this excursion! Listen people, I’m sorry I messed with Texas, but you have to stop doing that to me. Could it be that you are so unaffected by size (since everything is bigger in Texas) that you are stupidly willing to challenge a 40,000 pound vehicle? There. I’ve said it. I can move on.

Day one –

We left Franklin at approximately 4:30 in the afternoon. Initially, I was annoyed and frustrated that I had agreed to leave on Grit Day. I was exhausted from teaching all week and was certain that in our haste to leave I would forget something important… like Abby’s inhaler, pajamas, or a box of wine! Of course, Brent was his usual steady and calm self. He assured me during my temper tantrum that everything would end up in the rig and that we would be off for another adventure without a hitch. Besides, whatever I could possibly forget could most likely be purchased at a friendly neighborhood Wal-Mart.

By the time I got home from school, I was feeling better and excited about assuming the position in my passenger throne. Once we got on the interstate in Fairview, I had settled in to my usual “This is my happy place” bliss. The kids were in the back watching a movie, and Brent was once again the family “Highwayman.”

As in 2010, we are again taking a Spring Break trip with the Krebs family. They have four kids, and, with our three, we are traveling with seven kids. Is there any other possible way to travel with SEVEN kids? The oldest among them will be ten in May. This is a rowdy, loud, and young group of buckaroos. The RVs are the only way to go with this crowd.

We settled on a Texas destination for a variety of reasons, but the primary one was that none of us had ever been. After declaring San Antonio too far for the 2010 trip, we revisited the idea for 2011 over oysters and beer at 55 South. Looking back, I am so glad we decided to make the long trek to Texas. That bee had been in my bonnet for a very long time. Additionally, I have no idea how much longer we will keep the RV, and Texas was a large and missing piece of our plan to show the kids as much of their home countries as we can (more of Canada is a must for the coming years).

But I digress….

Brent and Ames drove in a caravanning fashion until three in the morning on Saturday. The men made good time and rarely stopped to stretch their legs. We finally stopped for “the night” at an Exxon station in the middle of nowhere. I have only once before ever seen a place so desolate. Only Western Arkansas is this dark. This Exxon station is somewhere between Waco and San Antonio. Normally, I would have pitched a fit about sleeping in such a place. I am a Cracker Barrel parking lot kind of girl (sarcasm), but I agreed to it only because I was afraid they would drive all night without a break otherwise. My nerves can only take so much at that hour. To Brent’s dismay and annoyance, there was no way I was going to sleep under those circumstances. Like a scene out of the movie Cars in which the semi-trailer that hauls Lightning MacQueen is repeatedly buzzed and annoyed by the little hot rods, we were continually harassed by low-riding Hondas with ground effects and spoilers. I guess there isn’t much for teenagers to do in this part of Texas. I was bug-eyed and strung out on caffeine. “Brent! It’s on your right! What is he trying to do? Get over! Get over!” I feel certain that Brent was grateful for that Exxon truck stop by the wee hours of Saturday morning.