Our children learned early on how to prepare for travel, and to do so quickly. No packing a week ahead of time. We never had that kind of notice. They also learned the principal:
"If you pack it, you carry it. If you can't carry it, you don't take it."
"Parent" was not synonymous with "pack mule" in our family. They didn't realize what a burden we placed on them until high school when the class trips began and other girls showed up with ENORMOUS suitcases that they had no hope of carrying, and just assumed the boys would do the load bearing for them. I was there to see the shocked looks on their faces, complete with eye rolling. So we raised some attitude problems. Oh well.
But even with our packing savvy, we've still never accomplished what I can only dream about. Handsome and I were preparing for a trip recently, and I was struck with two things. First of all men can get away with very little. They don't even have to take a razor if they don't want to. They can roll out of bed, throw on a semi clean pair of shorts and tshirt, and a baseball cap and look fine. I envy men for that. I'm not a natural beauty, and now that age has entered the equation, it takes a bit more "paint on the barn" to look presentable. If I rolled out of bed and donned the same ensemble as men can pull together, I'd scare small children and embarrass my family. That means I take longer to pull myself together, and I pack more. Not more than I can carry, mind you!
But I've always wanted to be like my dad when it came to travel preparation. I think he was a wannabe truck driver. He loved the sound that just the right tires made on the pavement. Used to say they "sang". The open road intrigued him and he took great pride in tying the canvas water bag onto the front grille of the car in just the right way.
I don't remember ever drinking from one of these, but I DO remember him pouring water from it over the car radiator cap. We actually traveled through Death Valley more than once with a couple of these tied up front.
Dad talked about "Brownies", and double clutching, and other trucking things. He had an International Harvester pick up at one time and taught me to drive a stick in it. It was quite the man truck. Interesting that he always said he didn't care to travel. But I think he actually meant that he didn't like the kind of travel mom aspired to. She had a little more extravagant taste. Dad was happy camping. He was a simple guy that always wore work boots, blue jeans, a plaid western cut shirt with the pearly snap buttons and short sleeves, and a trucker cap. Always the trucker cap. You know the kind that are plastic mesh in the back and some kind of stiff foam in the front with a logo or slogan? "I'm spending my children's inheritance" or "D**n seagulls!!" complete with a very realistic looking bird dropping on the bill. That was actually my personal favorite. But I digress.....
What really intrigued me about dad when we traveled was the way he packed. It took him a grand total of 5 seconds to shove a pair of clean skivvies in his jeans pocket and he was packed and ready for the road. Needless to say, it drove............. my mom.............. crazy. I can still hear her saying "NOOOooooORRMM!! She was able to turn a single syllable name into three and voice her displeasure in considerably less than the amount of time it took dad to pack!
I've had to resign myself to never being able to walk out the door without even a purse in hand to go on an adventure. I'll always have to carry a bag of some type with more than one clean pair of skivvies. But I'll always envy my dad's simple approach to travel. As long as I don't have to carry my gutchies in my pocket!
Hundreds of thousands of miles on these bags
You who ride on white donkeys,
You who sit on rich carpets,
And you who travel on the road-----
Sing!
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