A Presidential Weekend - Part One
The Boyfriend is a very ambitious fellow. He believes we can, and should, do anything and everything possible, to drive harder, to go further, to wring the towel of life dry and then smack each other playfully with what remains. And I love that, I do. I love being out on the road with him, our sidecases packed with everything we need to ride, hike, camp, cook, and take amazing pictures. But The Boyfriend can also be an overly ambitious fellow.
Let us begin our story on Friday. I think I began our trip with a cranky state of mind due to my last two days at work. Another teacher was out due to minor surgery and no one had been scheduled to replace her. I had been illegally over ratio (teacher to child ratio) and was feeling stressed, unappreciated, and like biting that new kid Johnny back, dammit. (I think he sits at home sharpening his teeth while watching WWF and eating sugar-coated sugar.) The situation made me feel unprofessional for being associated with an organization that would let such an occurance happen--they were well aware that we were going to be facing this situation almost a month ago and did nothing. Sigh. More to the point, it was very difficult for me to get off of work early on Friday but I managed to be out the door at 3:00 pm and The Boyfriend and I were on the road by 4:00.
It was also cold that day. The sun didn't even peek out while I was outside, which is for at least an hour a day during recess. Granted, cold in Arizona is usually what the rest of the world considers balmy. Being a Colorado girl, I appreciate that sentiment. But, I also know how much colder even balmy can be when when riding on a motorcyle at 80 m.p.h. I also know what happens when The Boyfriend (who is also the driver) gets sick while on the road and the cold definitely doesn't help that. Needless to say, I was nervous about the whole trip and had my crank on. And by the time we stopped for dinner at 7:00 in Safford, AZ, I was looking into all the lit windows we passed. Hey look, they're in there watching TV and I bet there's a nice afghan blankie across their feet. Look, they're warm and fat and happy. I was then informed that we wouldn't be rolling in to our final destination for the evening until approximately 11:00 p.m.
Eleven?! Eleven?! I think I was told about 9 or 9:30! So we ate pizza and my throat began to swell up in fear. Plus, oh gee, I almost forgot to tell y'all one very imporant part--we were planning on camping, that night and the whole trip. Setting up camp at 11:00, in the dark, in the cold. From that point on, I was looking at every cheap motel we passed and thinking about how that fifty bucks could be so worth it. Sure, I knew how many hours I would have to work to buy that bed, that bed sheltered by four walls, elevated off the cold ground. That was not planning on dropping below freezing that night like the rest of the outside world. And they would have hot water! My chin was chattering when we stopped for gas, after 10:00, outside of Farmington. And I was soooo tired after the week I had at work. So, you know what I did?
I cried. I cried like a little girl in my class named Mariah. In gulps, in wet gasps of air with nonsensical half-sentences blurting their way out. I think I freaked The Boyfriend out quite severely. I'm not usually to sort to burst into tears. Needless to say, we did end up getting a motel room--relatively inexpensive--and got to bed at 11:15. Imagine if we had pushed on that extra 60 miles and then set up camp. I slept under two blankets all night and wished they were thicker.
Well, so The Boyfriend can be overly ambitious. It was all for a very very good reason, though. It gave us time to explore our main destinations without too much rush. So often on these trips, we drive through and must go on before experiencing all we would like to in order to churn those miles back home or to the next campsite. This hard night allowed us the two beautiful days that followed. I must say I was also quite ashamed of myself. For letting The Boyfriend down, for falling short of his high expectations for me. For being a strong, tough girl and crying because of a little cold and a bad day.
Let us begin our story on Friday. I think I began our trip with a cranky state of mind due to my last two days at work. Another teacher was out due to minor surgery and no one had been scheduled to replace her. I had been illegally over ratio (teacher to child ratio) and was feeling stressed, unappreciated, and like biting that new kid Johnny back, dammit. (I think he sits at home sharpening his teeth while watching WWF and eating sugar-coated sugar.) The situation made me feel unprofessional for being associated with an organization that would let such an occurance happen--they were well aware that we were going to be facing this situation almost a month ago and did nothing. Sigh. More to the point, it was very difficult for me to get off of work early on Friday but I managed to be out the door at 3:00 pm and The Boyfriend and I were on the road by 4:00.
It was also cold that day. The sun didn't even peek out while I was outside, which is for at least an hour a day during recess. Granted, cold in Arizona is usually what the rest of the world considers balmy. Being a Colorado girl, I appreciate that sentiment. But, I also know how much colder even balmy can be when when riding on a motorcyle at 80 m.p.h. I also know what happens when The Boyfriend (who is also the driver) gets sick while on the road and the cold definitely doesn't help that. Needless to say, I was nervous about the whole trip and had my crank on. And by the time we stopped for dinner at 7:00 in Safford, AZ, I was looking into all the lit windows we passed. Hey look, they're in there watching TV and I bet there's a nice afghan blankie across their feet. Look, they're warm and fat and happy. I was then informed that we wouldn't be rolling in to our final destination for the evening until approximately 11:00 p.m.
Eleven?! Eleven?! I think I was told about 9 or 9:30! So we ate pizza and my throat began to swell up in fear. Plus, oh gee, I almost forgot to tell y'all one very imporant part--we were planning on camping, that night and the whole trip. Setting up camp at 11:00, in the dark, in the cold. From that point on, I was looking at every cheap motel we passed and thinking about how that fifty bucks could be so worth it. Sure, I knew how many hours I would have to work to buy that bed, that bed sheltered by four walls, elevated off the cold ground. That was not planning on dropping below freezing that night like the rest of the outside world. And they would have hot water! My chin was chattering when we stopped for gas, after 10:00, outside of Farmington. And I was soooo tired after the week I had at work. So, you know what I did?
I cried. I cried like a little girl in my class named Mariah. In gulps, in wet gasps of air with nonsensical half-sentences blurting their way out. I think I freaked The Boyfriend out quite severely. I'm not usually to sort to burst into tears. Needless to say, we did end up getting a motel room--relatively inexpensive--and got to bed at 11:15. Imagine if we had pushed on that extra 60 miles and then set up camp. I slept under two blankets all night and wished they were thicker.
Well, so The Boyfriend can be overly ambitious. It was all for a very very good reason, though. It gave us time to explore our main destinations without too much rush. So often on these trips, we drive through and must go on before experiencing all we would like to in order to churn those miles back home or to the next campsite. This hard night allowed us the two beautiful days that followed. I must say I was also quite ashamed of myself. For letting The Boyfriend down, for falling short of his high expectations for me. For being a strong, tough girl and crying because of a little cold and a bad day.
posted by Gnomey G at 8:22 PM
1 Comments:
I love camping. In the sense of getting a hotel room with a nice view and room service and a hospitality bar.
There's nothing more romantic than sitting in that room, gold light spilling out into the dark cold night, and peering out to see if I can catch someone miserable on a motorcycle going by.
But then again, I'm a bastard.
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