I have had such an horrible itch to go on a trip. I call it "horrible" because when you want to do something so bad but can't do it, the feeling you have is best described as horrible.
I don't know what it is with this time of year but ever since I got married and moved, I've had this intensity to travel during the fall. I really shouldn't say I don't know what it is because I think I do: there is a very great lack of color in this town I live in when the rest of our country is changing. The bright reds, oranges, yellows, greens and all the lovely colors of fall, this friendly town of ours just doesn't have. The leaves turn brown and fall off, end of story. There's no dramatic entrance into the colder months with a grand finale of summer's goodbye and falls colorful hello.
Fall kinda just sneaks up on us here. The weather stays mostly hot but a few frost nights will tinge the green leaves with brown and suddenly, without knowing what happened, you look outside one morning and notice the trees are no longer green. The next morning, after a particular windy night, you see that all the leaves are on the ground. All the leaves. Fall comes in just one night and leaves by morning.
I can't seem to get it out of my mind that fall needs color because to me, fall is color. Being the Wisconsin gal that I am, it's just in my blood to have a bit more excitement in ones life during this dramatic season. Maybe that's why I tend to paint my house and bring new colors to our walls this time of year since nothing else around here is changing.
So, I want to travel and see some color. Experience some excitement. It seems like instead of sitting in my friendly, bricked roads farmer town, I should be watching the changing scenes that so many areas have. There is no ticket one must purchase to watch the show; the only expense would be gas. And food. And lodging. Yeah, I guess there would be expenses.
No wonder why when I brought the subject up with my husband, he barely glanced over the top of his book at me and said, "Really?"
As if to say, "you REALLY want to spend that kind of money?" when I didn't even say anything about money. But I guess trips are money.
So, instead of just saying "I want to go on a trip," I decided to get a little more specific. A trip could mean a road to anywhere but when you name a destination, that helps to narrow it down a bit.
A few days later, I told my husband I wanted to go to the Grand Canyon. He wasn't reading a book this time but was instead walking through the room. He stopped, looked at me and said, "Oh, really?" as if it really was a possibility this time.
I almost asked if he really wasn't thinking about the cost. Then I remembered that he has already seen it and maybe his really meant that at one time he could really identify with someone who had never seen it and he could see why someone like myself would really want to see it.
I knew what he was probably thinking when I brought up the Grand Canyon... Did I mention yet that he has already seen it? If I did, I should've said that he barely saw it.
It was long before my time when Toby took the trip with his friend Matt. They were both equally bachelored which meant neither one had a prospect at all in the future that would perhaps give them a possibility that they wouldn't actually die a lonely bachelor. In other words, they had time to kill. Lots of time. They used to take trips just for fun. I think it helped them forget how lonely and sad a bachelor life is.
Once the car they were driving was missing a tail light and they decided one weekend to see how many warnings they could get from different states. So they drove through Nebraska, Iowa, South Dakota and Minnesota in one night. I think they got 3 warnings by the time they got home the next day.
Another time they drove to Florida and through the tips of other states, turned around and came back home, just to say they had been to this state and that state. I think Toby slept most of that trip and most of it was done in the dark so the beautiful and unusual scenery was hidden by the dark.
Then one weekend, they decided to drive to the Grand Canyon. They got in the car, drove to the canyon, looked at the hole in the ground, got in the car and went back home. I was surprised that they even got out of the car. I guess they did walk around for like two hours (no exaggeration there -- you can ask my husband) and saw what they wanted to see and went back home. I always thought there was more to see there than just what two hours would give you time for. I guess that's not so for bachelors though.
You have to understand that the Grand Canyon is quite a great distance from where Toby and Matt lived. It wasn't just a quick drive down the road. It took them twenty four hours to just get there. 24 HOURS! It's probably a good thing they didn't "waste" time sitting around the canyon looking at trees, rocks, mountains, rivers and crevices. I guess since neither one had a lover's hand to hold as they watched the sunset, it wasn't worth enjoying the beauty more than a couple hours.
I have to say that it almost seemed like when he said, "Oh, really," to me when I brought up the Grand Canyon again, Toby's "really" seemed to have that hopefulness and anticipation of one who had always wanted to experience something but never had. Maybe he has never really experienced the thrill of seeing the Grand Canyon. Oh yeah, he saw it but he didn't get that thrill go down his spine like one gets when they go there, or so I'm told.
I hope that if Toby takes me serious about the trip and will decide to go, he'll make his plans include sticking around for more than just a couple hours. Now that would really be a bachelor's way to enjoy the fall season: drive to the Grand Canyon, turn around and come home. Talk about real excitement. At least we could see the fall colors on the way that this town of ours is lacking in.
I wouldn't complain.