Arriving home after a trip like we have been on is a surreal experience. Spending that much time traveling in a car does strange things to your mind. It seems so strange to sleep in "my own" bed. The bed seems unfamiliar and the surroundings are oddly familiar and foreign all at the same time.
When you are in the car for 6 days, it is almost like meditation. As we would roll along I would have these epiphanies, great ideas about what I should do about something. Then almost as rapidly as they would float into my mind, they would be forgotten. I had composed amazing blog posts in my head, only to arrive at our destination to not even remember the topic.
As I would drive along, I would find other people who drove about the same speed as I did and we would caravan. I would imagine that we would be looking for cops together. Yet, usually it was me, noticing them and hiding. This would put my fellow speeders in the spot light, but there is safety in numbers. Big rig drivers always seem to know where the cops hide. I always follow their lead.
Bob drove the last leg, and I got to sit in the car and knit. This was a nice reprieve from driving, but I still had that same meditative experience. Bob drives along pretty quickly, just like me, but without the infractions. He was less concerned about cops.
It was great to see everyone, but I am very glad to not have to drive my car any longer than a trip to the store for a long time! It is good to be home.
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