Over the past fifteen years, most of my trips to Montana have been with The Snack Nazi, Caren, driving. She always has her eye on the prize, the destination. We only stop for gas, and if Caren could figure out how one of those tanker planes that tranfers fuel in mid-air could do the same for us, we would never stop. You might think that a road trip with someone that will barely stop to let one pee let alone stop for food would be as enjoyable as a bee sting, but it is quite nice.
We have established road trip traditions: making up word games, me being the book on tape, and NOT doing any sight seeing. We play some of your ordinary travel games like flags, but we love to make up our own word games with our own rules that change regularly throughout the trip even throughout the game. We have even played the games with occupants in other cars with walkie-talkies. We don't waste our money on audio books. I am the audio book. My favorite tradition is NOT doing any sight seeing. Just north of Panquitch, Utah is the Moqui Cave and every year I say, "Hey, Caren, we should stop there someday."She always replies, "Yep, but not today." This conversation is repeated throughout the trip. There are many magnificent places we have driven by: The North Rim of the Grand Canyon, Lake Powell, Moqui Caves, Bryce Canyon, an opal mine, Deere Lodge Prison gift shop, Hoover Dam, Vegas, Chief Yellow Cloud's roadside stand just to name a few. But we can't stop now, it's tradition.
Another long standing silly tradition is when we get to the Idaho border we shout, "Who da ho? I DA HO!" We shout this to each other. We walkie-talkie it to friends in cars following, we text friends and family at home. A silly tradition, but it's ours.
When I die I want all my sistahs to take a roadtrip, and don't let Caren drive. I want my sistahs to STOP at all the places I have never seen and scatter some of my ashes. I want my sistahs to STOP at the Idaho border, get out of the car and as they scatter my ashes shout,"WHO DA HO? I DA HO!" It's tradition.
Paco's Perspective
I like tradition: riding in Caren's purse on the way to Montana, snacks, our walks to the end of the road, snacks, eating ice cream with Dave every night, snacks, spinning three times before entering a room, and snacks.
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