And So It Begins...

It all started with the idea of a family trip out west, Brady Bunch style.  Ghost towns, burro rides into the Grand Canyon, preferably in a 1972 Ford Wagoneer with faux wood paneling and a nausea-inducing 'back-back' as we used to call it.  The 'back-back' was a set of pop up seats that faced one another and were situated just behind the rear window, where pre-regulation unfiltered exhaust poured in with abandon.  But my husband, Rob, had something bigger in mind; way bigger.

I should have seen it coming.  One day, driving along the highway on our annual summer pilgrimage to Bethel, ME, we passed an RV dealership.

 "Wonder what that's like,"  he tossed casually to me as I tried to nap.

"What what's like?"  I shifted my position so I could see out the window.

"RVing.  I think it would be fun to take a western trip in one."

"Do you?"  I answered and he dropped the topic, but I knew not for long.

We've been together for twenty-eight years, long enough for me to recognize that glint in his eye and hear that lilt in his tone when he's on the edge of a Big Idea.  Small Ideas are easy.  They are the kind of thing I call someone else up to do:  painting the porch furniture; lowering our Verizon bill; etc.  Big Ideas involve time, commitment, and usually way more money than either of us imagined.

Over the course of the year, the conversation regarding a trip out west continued at regular intervals.  The impending graduation of our oldest son lent an air of urgency to our trip.  It might be our last family trip ever.  So I got on board, so to speak.