A friend from way back when contacted me out of the blue today – what a happy surprise!  The last time we saw each other, I was younger, thinner and hardier.  I could make a 15-hour drive with nothing to sustain me but my husband, diet Coke, Pop-Tarts and a Weird Al cassette tape on endless replay.  Now I need more rest stops and less Weird Al (sorry, kids), but I still love to travel by car.

I have been re-reading A Little House Sampler by Laura Ingalls Wilder and her daughter, Rose Wilder Lane.  Laura definitely loved a road trip.  She wrote about returning to De Smet for Old Settlers’ Days when she was seventy-two and her husband, Almanzo, was eighty-two.  They drove, of course.

One of my German professors drove over eight hundred miles through Mexico with her husband, who didn’t drive, on a vacation trip.  She was a young girl in Germany during World War II.  She was probably in her sixties when she took her Mexican road trip.

That’s how I’d like to be, should God grant me that many years.  Have car, will travel.

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