Category Archives: Travel

Home stretch…

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I was in the home stretch this afternoon. Four turns and maybe 2 miles from the house. I was even running a few minutes ahead of the normal arrival time. It was good right up until I approached the start of a sharp series of turns running alongside the state forest and saw the flashing lights blocking the road. Apparently some doucheknocker took the turn a little fast and a little wide and ended up getting his machine mangled for his trouble. I know from experience that the turns in that spot are tricky. The road is narrow, with guardrails and 20 foot drop offs on either side. It’s precisely the kind of turn you don’t want to be in when you realize you’re driving beyond your meager abilities. I’d be hard pressed to tell you the number of days a year I pass through that stretch and see fresh damage on the guardrails, thrashed car parts off in the woods, or the shimmer of freshly broken glass dust catching my headlights in the morning. It’s easily in the double digits. Those days are going to get more frequent now that the trees are filling in and you can’t see what’s coming in the opposite direction.

I wasn’t able to tell the full story this afternoon, but there’s a good chance I can read the road and tell you what happened when I drive through there in the morning. It’s not so much that care if someone outdrove their abilities. It’s not so much that I care they closed the road at just the moment I was trying to go through. It’s mostly that based on where I decided to live, a road closure in that one stretch of road causes me a 20-odd minute detour because there’s really no other good way to get here from there. Sure, that’s more of an inconvenience for the driver who smashed up his ride than it is for me, but it was just one more in a series of reminders today that this week has been and apparently plans to continue being one pain in the ass after another.

Sea Fever…

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I must go down to the seas again, to the lonely sea and the sky,
And all I ask is a tall ship and a star to steer her by,
And the wheel’s kick and the wind’s song and the white sail’s shaking,
And a grey mist on the sea’s face, and a grey dawn breaking.

I must go down to the seas again, for the call of the running tide
Is a wild call and a clear call that may not be denied;
And all I ask is a windy day with the white clouds flying,
And the flung spray and the blown spume, and the sea-gulls crying.

I must go down to the seas again, to the vagrant gypsy life,
To the gull’s way and the whale’s way, where the wind’s like a whetted knife;
And all I ask is a merry yarn from a laughing fellow-rover,
And quiet sleep and a sweet dream when the long trick’s over.

– John Masefield © 1902

Out of practice…

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Once upon a time, I could pack a bag and be out the door in half an hour. That probably has as much to do with spending three out of every four weeks on the road as it did with having any actual skills worth mentioning. When you pack, unpack, repack, keep the bag under 30 pounds, narrow enough to fit in the overhead, wash, rinse, and repeat six times a month, you get proficient if only through the force of habit. It’s apparently one of those skills that atrophy when it’s not in regular use.

The reason I know this is because I had to swap out the bag that use to work for a week on the road for what use to be the “two week” bag. Then I added a backpack for good measure. And then I thought, “Eh, I’ll just throw in a cooler in case I need it at some point.” I’m pretty sure the planner in me died a little bit with that decision. It strikes me that a normal person would be able to know up front if they were going to need a cooler, but apparently now, I just stock one for “just in case” moments. One of the great drawbacks of traveling by truck instead of airliner is that it doesn’t actually force you to make decisions. You’ve got a nearly limitless maw of emptiness just waiting to take on all the junk you might, but probably won’t, use at some point in your journey.

Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to go rent a pallet jack to get my luggage outside.

OCMD…

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In about a month, I’ll be recovering from my first trip to Ocean City since sometime around 2002. If I’m remembering history correctly, that trip involved a one-night layover and an excessive amount of drinking at Seacrets… and I seem to recall that it was March, so not exactly beach weather. That didn’t prevent NAME REDACTED from dragging his Ocean City Postcardhungover self across the beach to jump in the water on a dare… ah, the dumb shit 20-something guys do when they don’t have any adult supervision. Of course, that’s not really the point.

If you grew up in Western Maryland in the 1970s and 80s, Ocean City was the place to be in the summer. That was before the mass exodus to Myrtle Beach for a more “family friendly” beach experience. OCMD was grittier to be sure, but it’s where my impressions of what a beach vacation is were built. I’ve spent time on beaches up and down the East Coast from the Jersey Shore through the Carolinas. I’ve enjoyed beach time on the Adriatic and on the worn smooth stones in the shadow of the Brighton Pier. I’ve sucked down rum drinks in the protected coves of St. Thomas and had three months of weekends parked on the sand at Waikiki, but Ocean City is still where I think of whenever I think of “going to the beach.”

It’s not fancy. It’s not built for old money… but It’s where Maryland goes when it goes to the beach. Salt air, liquid refreshment, Thrasher’s fries, and good company… Yeah, it’s hard to believe it’s taken me 730-odd days to make the trip.

Business travel…

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The following is an excerpt from an email I received this morning. The worst part, perhaps, is I was well into the discussion on changes to lodging policies before I realized it was supposed to be farce. When you work for Uncle sometimes it’s hard to tell the difference between real life and comedy… and even then sometimes real life is comedy.

ALCON,

Please be advised of the following changes to TDY per diem allowances:

TDY/TAD Travel: In keeping with the latest round of DOD budget cuts, changes will be made to the Joint Travel Regulations (JTR). Effective Monday, 11 February the following revised procedures apply:

Lodging: All DOD personnel performing temporary duty (TDY) are encouraged to stay with relatives and friends while on government business travel. If weather permits, public areas such as parks should be used as temporary lodging sites. Bus terminals, train stations, and office lobbies may provide shelter in periods of inclement weather.

Transportation: Hitchhiking is the preferred mode of travel in lieu of commercial transport. Luminescent safety vests will be issued to all personnel prior to their departure on TDY. Bus transportation will be used only when work schedules require such travel. Airline tickets will be authorized in extreme circumstances and the lowest fares will be used. For example, if a meeting is scheduled in Washington D.C., but a lower fare can be obtained by traveling to Omaha, NE, then travel to Omaha will be substituted for travel to Washington D.C.

Meals: Expenditures for meals will be limited to an absolute minimum. It should be noted that certain grocery and specialty chains, such as Costco, Hickory Farms, General Nutrition centers, and occasionally Safeway often provide free samples of promotional items. Entire meals can be obtained in this manner. We realize many of you survive your weekends this way.

Travelers should also be familiar with indigenous roots, berries, and other protein sources available at their destinations. If restaurants must be utilized, travelers should use “all you can eat” salad bars. This is especially effective for employees traveling together as one plate can be used to feed the entire group. DOD Personnel are also encouraged to bring their own food on business travel. Cans of tuna fish, Spam, and Beefaroni can be consumed at your leisure without the bother of heating or costly preparation. Cost of these items will not be reimbursed.

Miscellaneous: All DOD personnel are encouraged to devise innovative techniques in effort to save tax dollars. One enterprising individual has already suggested that money could be raised during airport layover periods, which could be used to defray travel expenses. In support of this idea, red caps will be issued to all personnel prior to their departure so that they may earn tips by helping others with their luggage. Small plastic roses and ballpoint pens will also be available to personnel so that sales may be made as time permits. Proceeds must be turned into the Defense Finance and Accounting Service at the conclusion of the TDY. We welcome any suggestions for further fiscal innovations, cost avoidances, and waste reduction techniques.

Style and comfort…

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In the few brief decades I’ve considered myself a traveler, I’ve come to loath almost everything associated with getting from Point A to Point B. The one grand exception is when I get to drive to wherever I’m going. I still love going, but I really, really wish there were better options when it comes to getting there from here.

Since age 18, my ire is almost exclusively reserved for airlines and the whole air travel experience in general. Today, though I’m reminded that there is one mode even more evil than your standard issue economy flight… That would be the bus. If airlines have become the busses of the air, I suppose busses have become, well, nothing really. They’re still loud, slow, uncomfortable, and leave you feeling vaguely grimy at the end of the trip. At least that part has stayed consistent down through the years.

Whoever it was that said “getting there is half the fun” must have been functionally retarded. Being there can absolutely be both fun and educational. Getting there, on the other hand, has all the style and comfort of dead moose. Let’s just say for the record that I’m happy to be in the last 90 minutes of this trip. I’m looking forward to unfolding myself from this seat, getting back in the truck, and then backtracking 40 minutes to get to the house.

Traveling light…

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It usually takes every bit of room in a crewmax pickup truck to move me and the dogs just about anywhere. In the intrest of having places to be and still not exact idea when the truck might have its airbags installed, we’re going to give it the good old college try in something a little smaller. The Chevy Impala is a fine car, I’m sure, but even with its respectable trunk I’m not sure it was designed with me in mind. I’ve been working on it most of the evening and think I finally have it down to what I’d consider the barest of essentials: A backpack of electronic “stuff”, a rolling garment bag, a medium tote of “dog stuff”, two large dogs, and me. Neither of my oversized crates will fit in the aforementioned trunk, so we’re going to see how the trip goes sans crates. Hopefully they will be at least marginally well behaved and don’t destroy anything while were there. If something goes badly wrong with this plan it’s possible that all three of us may be banned for life from the house where I grew up. I’m cautiously optimistic because they haven’t really destroyed anything in years now… but I’m equal parts horrified that they’ll see the new territory as a good excuse to, I don’t know, shred an entire living room set.

I’ve thrown over every bit of extraneous bit of clothing, equipment, and random odd and end that I can think of, but the dogs… the dogs are the wildcard in all of this. If there’s any mercy in the universe, they won’t make me regret gushing about how well mannered they are. Otherwise, I’ll be paying for this short trip for a very long time. For the record, I never intend to travel anywhere within driving distance without the truck again. Trying to economize on volume is just too nerve-wracking.

Down the shore…

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We’re getting into the time of the year when where I really want to be is sitting under a palm tree sucking down rum drinks from little coconut shaped cups. With a house in Tennessee that’s not quite paying for itself and finally getting the costs of a cross country move into the just about paid off range, I’m grudgingly coming to accept that flying somewhere warm and tropical probably isn’t in the cards this year. And that makes me die just a little bit on the inside. I think I’m just having a hard time justifying that kind of vacation while paying someone else for the privilege of living in their house. Maybe my attitude on that will change if I still have a house in Memphis two or three years from now and on indefinitely into the future. I suppose that’s a first world problem and all, but still, I’ll miss my regularly scheduled rum punch marathon.

Since last year’s major vacation involved packing, moving, and unpacking an inordinate number of boxes I’m still determined to manage at least some time sitting on a beach somewhere. Maybe I’ll just pack it up for a long weekend and head to Atlantic City. If I’ve learned nothing else from MTV, it’s that New Jersey is full of tasty adult beverages and people in serious need of mocking. It might just be the best vacation ever.

Mission to Mars…

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Every time I start packing I’m reminded why I so often go out of my way to avoid trips that involve staying somewhere overnight. I’m easy enough to manage; a chance of clothes, a toothbrush, and a bag full of electronics and power cables. I can be packed and out the door in somewhere under 20 minutes. Throw the dogs into the equation and the logistical engineering required for even a one night trip is something that would make the planners of the manned mission to Mars feel inadequate. Food, crates, toys, water, dog-proofing the back seat, the dropcloth to catch massive amounts of travel-induced shedding and stray loss of cookies will get things started. Then it’s a matter of avoiding tripping over them while I get my own stuff backed and loaded since neither will get out of the line of sight once they’ve seen a suitcase come out. It’s even worse once I actually start putting things in the truck. Then there’s unpacking on the other end just to do it all in reverse order a day or two later. Lord knows I begrudge these dogs absolutely nothing, but sometimes they are a real pain in the ass. Still, for all the hassle I wouldn’t really dream of going away without the fuzzy little buggers. That doesn’t mean I wouldn’t love to come up with an easier way of getting their 300 pounds of gear from Point A to Point B without dragging it up out of the basement and getting it into the truck. So yeah, if anyone needs me for the next couple of hours before it gets dark I’ll be spending more time getting the dog’s stuff ready to go than it will actually take to make the trip. Oy vey. The things we do for our kids.

Their spidey senses are tingling…

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Sometimes I wonder what’s going on in the dog’s minds. They definitely know something’s up. As soon as I get one of my suitcases out of the closet Maggie becomes a super needy attached to my feet version of herself and follows me from room to room for the rest of the night. Winston is more circumspect about the whole thing and sprawls out in front of the door figuring that way I can’t leave without him seeing it and still expending as little energy as possible. This makes Winston the easier of the two to deal with right up until the point where I need to start loading the truck – and yes, I’m one of those obnoxious pre-planners that loads everything the night before so the next morning involves only shower, coffee, load dogs, drive.

We’ve been through this experience more times than I can count but the response is always the same mixture of excitement and nervousness from the two furry beasts. What they could be nervous about at this point is utterly beyond me. Fortunately, they’ll both be asleep long before I merge onto 95 and won’t stir much until I start slowing down to pull off the interstate three and a half hours later. By then we’ll have arrived at somewhere vaguely familiar to them and the whole attached at my feet period can continue for the rest of the weekend and then reverse itself two days later on the return trip. After a good night’s rest they’ll be right back to their normal selves. They’re resilient little buggers like that. I wish I recovered from a trip that fast.