Hertz supplied us with a big ol', gas-swilling Expedition. (This rental rig brought about fond(?) recollections of our 1998 Exped., a.k.a. the Lumbering Moose. Yay for 13 MPG!) We packed a few bags, then hit the road bright and early in the morn. Once we made it to OKC, we called my dad to seek his sage advice.
Me: "Dad, what is it you have always told us to do when we come to a fork in the road?"
Dad: "Take it."
Me: "Right. Should we still take the fork if it means we'll end up at your front door?"
Dad: "Where are you?"
Me: "OKC"
Dad: "What are you doing there? Does Mr. Smith have a meeting there today?"
Me: "No. No meetings. It just seemed like a good day for a road trip."
SILENCE
Me: "So... Should we take the fork?"
Dad: "You're not driving to Indiana today, are you?!"
Me: "Yep!"
Dad: "Then you'd better take the fork!"
I'm normally not one for surprises, but this was epic! We got my daddy good. (Yes, I realize that is not proper grammar, but it stays.)
The joy in the journey is half of the fun. I don't know why, but our family loves road trips. Well, four out of five of us do. One prefers to sleep. The sleepyhead never complains, though.
Somewhere in Missouri, #3 was awake enough to ask why she never, ever gets to ride shotgun when all five of us travel together. Much to her surprise, at the next gas stop, Big Brother relinquished his position in the comfy chilled seat. She could NOT believe it! It was a first. Photo worthy, even. Oh, the responsibility (and JOY!) of being a co-captain/navigator/chooser of the tunes.
It won't be long until she'll be asking to sit behind the wheel. Sigh!
Fourteen-ish hours in the car of pure family togetherness is sooo much fun. Really! I'm being serious here, folks. We played all of our usual silly games in the car. There's the one where each person adds one letter at a time and tries to not spell a word on their turn. Or the variation of that game where each player supplies a word on each turn and attempts to make a crazy, nonsensical sentence that must be repeated on each player's turn without missing any details. Run-on sentences are encouraged.
When the gaming spirit fades, it's time for a song. Or two, or more.
Singing along (at a very loud volume) to every single ELO hit is a requirement of a Smith family road trip.
Don't bring me down,grroosss
Don't bring me down,grroosss
Don't bring me down,grroosss
Don't bring me down.
Other suitable road trip sing-a-long "oldies" include, but are not limited to, songs by Supertramp, The Moody Blues, The Cars, Michael Jackson, K.C. and the Sunshine Band, Kansas, ABBA, Boston, and on and on... Guess we're stuck somewhere in the late 70s/early 80s. For fun, we sometimes sneak in a Veggie Tales song from our kids' formative years. I'm not sure why, but singing produce is still funny.
We stopped for food in Missouri and parked next to this car. Yes, I had to take a picture. Obviously, the owner of this vehicle prefers to travel alone. No four-part harmony for this trashy, solo act.
Once we made it to Grandpa's, the fun REALLY began.
"Hot dogs roasting on an open fire..."
I'm certain there's a song in there somewhere.
Group shot!
We drive friendly, the Texas way.
How special it was to get to see my daddy on Father's Day!
Grandpa Thompson posed with his Smith kids.
Even the Smith dad was shot with his trio.
While back home again, we visited neighboring Illinois, so the Smith kids could see the birthplace of Heath Bars. I remember taking a class field trip to see the Heath factory tour sometime during my awkward junior high years. It was a memorable trip; probably because chocolate was involved. Although factory tours are no longer offered, we were able to visit the candy bar museum in downtown Robinson. Heath toffee is Mr. Smith's mostest favorite candy, so we HAD to buy a bag, or two, of unwrapped minis.
Since we were on a trip down tastebud memory lane, I requested that we make a stop at the Dairy Queen in Sullivan, IN, so I could purchase one of MY favorite childhood things, Krunch Kote. As a kid, I thought that a chocolate-dipped crunch cone from DQ was the best! As an adult, I don't think it's the best, but it is still pretty tasty.
Last summer I purchased the crunchies and paid nearly $25 for the gallon-sized carton of goodness. This summer, my purchase of the exact same sized item from the exact same DQ cost $15. I should have bought two. Who knows what the market for crunchy topping will look like next year?! It's nuts! (I'm sorry, I just had to.)
After the trip to the DQ, we drove on some not-so-heavily traveled Indiana backroads. Dad showed his grandkids some other interesting things about where their mother grew up -- old family cemeteries, lakes, ponds, succotash fields, old abandoned buildings, and a strip mining operation. (No, the miners are not strippers. What kind of place do you think I'm from?!)
The Bear Run Mine (Peabody Energy) is the largest surface coal mine in the eastern US, with an annual production capacity of 8 million tons. In order to see this operation, we were forced to take the road less traveled.
What's the harm in a little Hoosier clay?
We drove our very dirty rental beast back to the Lone Star State, singing oldies and munching Heath toffee along the way.
No explanation was necessary to the nice lady at the rental car return. She seemed to understand that a little mud may fly when you're "traveling at the speed of Hertz."
