Divermarv

The one where you really have to pee? While driving that is. Ten miles from home, you’re doing alright. But with each mile it gets harder to hold. When you pass the old oak tree that’s leaning way out over the road you know you’re close. And that twinge hits. Oh no, you think. Am I going to make it. Somehow our ancient lizard brain is in cahoots with our bladder. Conspiring against us, our superior intellect — and ability to solve the quadratic equation — not withstanding these ancient artifacts of evolution control us. By the time you reach your driveway you’re about to bust. Slam the car into park and run to the door. Drop the keys. You feel the tiniest of trickles. Door open, you run to the bathroom. Ahhhhhh. Finally.

Actually I’m talking about a different feeling. Though similar. Last Monday I drove from Bloomington IL all the way home to northeastern Tennessee. The magnificence of my adventure on this trip not withstanding, I was ready to get home. With each passing mile I felt the ache to sleep in my comfortable bed growing. Every bend in the road took me closer to familiarity. The trees started to gather and transform into old friends. Another thing grew. Anxiousness. Eagerness. Yes the trip was grand, but there is such a comfort in the proverbial zone. And I hungered for it.

I am working on some pieces to publish orbiting around my trip. A functional article on lessons learned from a car-camping point of view. I’ll go through my pictures and pick some that have clung to my soul, then maybe share what keeps them close. My thoughts on travel. I look forward to the catharsis wringing these from my innards will bring.

So stay tuned if you wish. Or not. It’s all (as they say) good.

Peace and love. Marv

P. S. I also experienced the pee thing as I approached home. So this is a twofer.