Wednesday, August 11 |

Road Trip, Pt 2: Musings

The thing that struck me the most about being on a bike trip, or maybe it was just this particular trip, was the freedom. There was no agenda. No clock ticking away. No schedule. We just got on and rode. We knew, generally, what route we wanted to take, and we knew, generally, where we wanted to end up at the end of the day. That was it. And as a mother and wife, that was a freedom I haven't felt since I was a teen, living at home with my parents.

I told Hubby I kept feeling like I was supposed to be doing something - weren't there dishes to wash? Clothes to fold? Mouths to feed? Not only did I not have to worry about what time we'd end up at our destination, I also didn't have to worry about what time Hubby was coming home. Or what time I needed to start cooking dinner. Or what time the kids had to be in bed. Or what chores were being neglected. I didn't have to think about anything at all, except for how much the road kill stank. Or how beautiful the mountains were. Or how much going sixty on a motorbike felt like flying. Or how much my butt hurt. Or... was that a rock? Did I just get hit by a rock? Or how great it was that my husband actually wanted to take a road trip with me. We didn't even do anything 'special'. We were just ...... together. And you know, there's a lesson to be learned here - vacations don't have to be about activities. Activities take away from the moment, from the quality time, from interacting. Time together should be about being, not doing.


Road kill. You just don't notice how many dead animals there are out there until you're on a bike. Cause you smell them. Every one of them, in all stages of decay. After the first day, I learned how to keep an eye out for them and hold my breath till we went by. Not that this always worked, but it helped.

Kudzu. Anyone not from the south probably wouldn't even know what that is.
It's the stuff my brother and I spent our childhood battling. The stuff that strangles every flower, kills every tree, and buries every building in it's path. There are whole mountains covered with this stuff. It's a plague.

In the spring, however, it produces a beautiful purple flower, and smells just like lavender.
Other than that, it's horrific.

Farms. When you live in the city, or even in the outskirts, you have no idea there are miles and miles and MILES of land where there is only grass, animals, and crops. Those are good smells. To me, anyway. Once, at my aunt's house, I wrapped my arms around the neck of one of her horses and buried my face in it and breathed deeply. She looked at me in a kind of grossed-out way, and asked 'You like the smell of that?" Oh, yeah!

Road kill. Did I mention road kill?


covnitkepr1 said...

I love the title of this blog. There would be no divorce if more people felt this way.
I came across your blog through another blog I follow and have signed up as a follower. When you’re free, please do visit me and let me know what you think of my blog and leave a comment. If you like, do follow as well. I am always open to great new people and interesting websites. Look forward to hearing from you.

Suzanne said...

I love your statement, "time together should be about being, not doing." So true. There's a lot to be said about just spending time together interacting without having to have something planned to do. I actually became envious of your trip while reading the post. It sounds like a really exciting thing for a married couple to do.

Jenny said...

It was! I'm just so thankful that the Lord worked it out for us to go. It's a bit difficult for me to get away like that, since I have the little ones, and the nearest babysitter is an hour away. I was blessed with fantastic in-laws. We couldn't have done this without them.

Post a Comment